Chapter Six

Caroline

Bobby’s Bar smells like sweat and lies. The music is blaring from the beaten down jukebox, and Tahoe looks right at home as he edges in at the bar to grab us a couple of drinks, his monstrous figure forcing those sitting nearby to part. I play with the hem of my shirt and try to focus on the present instead of the way he made me feel in the cab of his truck. He almost kissed me. Told me I could be his girlfriend if I wanted to, basically said I already was. Words like I like you, and more than like, did things to my proverbial armor—pierced me directly in my heart. You’d think there would be something other than stroked desire after his spoken words, I don’t know, maybe something such as anger or disdain, but nothing else came. The words yes please nearly popped out of my mouth the second Malena banged on the window. I could have killed her for ruining that moment, but I was also grateful because I don’t seem to be thinking very clearly when I’m around Tyler these days. Or ever, honestly. A man like him doesn’t pursue a woman like me. If they did, I wouldn’t be single without a solitary prospect. I never pictured myself with an outsider, an intruder, but it’s easy to let my mind reason the magnetic draw to the massive, arrogant stranger. I can’t trust myself around him. It’s why I took the entire month to make a decision about the airport. Can I be around him on a regular basis and keep a level head? Do I trust myself to get closer to him than I already am? In the end, the money offered won out regardless of my feelings toward the man. Plus, my daddy didn’t raise a fool. When a once in a lifetime deal comes along, you take it. Isn’t that what being Tahoe’s girlfriend would be, though? A once in a lifetime deal? How do I adhere to one while abolishing the other?

Casually, I watch Tahoe as every woman in the room watches him. Even old Magdalena who hasn’t so much as looked at man’s foot since her husband Curtis died, has her mouth open as she takes in Tahoe’s physique.

Malena and a group of girlfriends, all of which I recognize, point at him. Even men narrow their eyes with contempt and jealousy as they study him. They don’t know how inside the rough, rogue exterior, he’s a decent guy. A smart man. A man who despite my best efforts, still hangs around after I’ve pushed him away. Sure, he says stupid things once in a while, but what man doesn’t?

Tahoe glances over his shoulder, a lopsided smirk morphing his chiseled features into something more boyishly handsome. I grin back, even though I have no idea what he’s smiling about. Surely being polar opposites never damned a relationship from the start? The possibility of success must be buried somewhere behind our vast differences. As I smile back at him, I’m aware that everyone is looking at me, a fact that would typically send me running for the hills. He’s looking at me, at no one else but me, and I’m basking in that knowledge. I make my way closer to him and grab for the foamy glass mug he’s extending. “What’s so funny?” I ask, sipping the white foam before it spills over the rim. “This place is kind of comical, but anything in specific?” I amend.

Tahoe takes a long swig while watching me over the rim of his beer. After he swallows, his neck working with more muscles than I have in my entire body, he lets out a long, satisfied breath. “Just how out of place you look here. Don’t come here often?” He grins.

“I should have known you were making fun of me. And to think, I was thinking,” I halt my words before I finish my thought.

“Thinking about what?” His laconic voice sends a shiver from the tip of my toes all the way to my head. “What we were talking about in the truck? The g-word?” He nods his head toward the door. “Want to go back and talk…some more?”

I shake my head before he’s finished speaking. “I was thinking that this whole room is staring at you right now.”

He heaves a shoulder up and down quickly. “And while I’m only interested in looking at you, I’d be remiss if we didn’t meet your friends.” Tahoe runs his tongue over his front teeth and he catches me watching his mouth. He quirks one brow in question. “What else were you thinking?”

I chug my beer while staring down the dusty, wooden ceiling. I can’t trust myself around him. Maybe that’s not a bad thing. “That they’re all staring at you because you’re so good looking.”

“Ohhhhhhh!” Tahoe yells, drawing gazes our way once again. “You actually said it out loud. It only took a month.”

Before I can object to his outright vanity he snakes an arm around my waist and draws me to him. Clinking his glass to mine, he then whispers, “I’ve got nothing on you. Looking at you is like looking at the sun, Caroline May. Everyone looking my way is only looking because they want to know what it is about me, that made you fall.” Staring wide eyed at his mouth, I’m aghast at what he’s insinuating, and gutted at the same time because he’s absolutely right. Not about me being the sun, no, that can’t be true, that’s a line, but I am falling for him. I let him hold me in this moment, staring into his mirthful eyes as some 80’s pop song echoes a synthesizer chorus around the small room. “You don’t have to admit it now. But I know,” Tahoe drawls. “Cheers,” he adds “to our first official date.”

I swallow down the bitter beer taste, and let his words float around a second or two before I come back to reality. Never in my life have I wanted to kill someone and kiss them at the same time. It’s a deliciously volatile feeling. Floating. Falling. Fretting. I take a sip of beer, but I don’t taste anything. My body is warming—the heat from his skin melting into me. My face heats, and even though I’d love to correct him and tell him this is our only date, I know for a fact that would be a lie. At this point, I’d do anything he says. Because I want him.

I want him. The admission feels odd and right at the same time.

He releases me, leaving my stomach bereft and cold. The hand holding my beer shakes a little and I have to make a concerted effort to still it. Tahoe notices—his eyes dropping to my hand, and then skimming the rest of my body. A throaty noise lets me know his obvious appraisal is satisfactory. Desire floods between my legs from a solitary noise.

Malena and Britt bound up to us, and it takes all of my strength to muster the ability to say hello. Malena introduces Britt to Tahoe and I smile, wondering how Tahoe can turn it off and on so quickly, when I’m trying not to quake with every emotion he’s invoking. The small talk seems so trivial to what’s happening inside my body and mind. Like I should be sitting alone, sifting through what everything means instead of talking about the approaching hurricane season. My heart is a hurricane. My body is an unloved temple seeking refuge with a man I wouldn’t know how to handle. Tahoe’s laugh breaks me from my horrendous, thrilling thoughts.

It’s also the same moment I see Whit approaching. “You gonna’ introduce me to your friend, Caroline?” Whit asks, the hint of drunken stupor tripping up his vowels. His gaze finds Malena as she appraises Tahoe with all the reverence of Christ on a cross. My heart starts racing.

Tahoe tilts his head to the side. “Whit, right? I’ve heard so much about you,” Tahoe croons, lips pressed together as he threatens everyone with a look. He looks at me conspiringly, and then back to the drunken has-been.

Whit runs a hand through his long red hair once, and then again. It’s a tell. He’s agitated. I hate that I know that fact about him. The negatives of living in a small town. Whit spits out a compliment about Malena because he assumes she’s been talking about him. He has no clue Tahoe knows all about him because I told him dirty secrets. “Congratulations, Whitney,” I say, breaking the awkward silence. “You too, Brittney. We all knew you guys would end up together.” I smile, hoping it looks genuine. Malena rolls her eyes. Tahoe covers a laugh with a cough.

Whit narrows his eyes at Tahoe, and I drain the rest of my beer.

“Looks like congrats are in order for you too, Caroline,” Britt replies, eyes flicking back to Tahoe’s midsection. Her words are hollow. After a couple decades of deciphering the almost imperceptible undertones of small town gossip, I hear the empty snark for what it really is. Jealousy.

Tahoe hears it too. He wraps an arm around my shoulders. “She’s pretty awesome, isn’t she? Landing the biggest contract this town has ever seen. Building and finishing her loft apartment on her own. You should see that thing. It’s beautiful. I’m telling you, it could be in a magazine,” he explains, waving his free palm in front of him, like he’s painting an invisible picture for them. I smile, because what else can I do in this moment? A moment he’s saving me from so gracefully, and mildly, even I have to acknowledge his non-effort.

“Stop it, you’re making me blush. You helped me,” I quip. “Gave it that manly flair,” I tease.

Tahoe brushes my compliment aside and continues on. “You should have a housewarming party,” he gushes. “You guys would come, right?” The horrified look on my face must stoke their curiosity because not only do they agree, they are voracious in their agreement, Malena even offering to help me plan it.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Tahoe,” I say. “We can talk about it later.”

“Nonsense. It’s a great idea. Everyone wants to see what you do up there...I mean see your new house.” Britt says, staring at Tahoe. “Right, Whit?” she adds on as an afterthought, grabbing his elbow.

“Yeah. I’d love to see it. Coming here and snapping up all the prime real estate,” Whit mumbles, slinking back to the bar for a refill without as much as a nod.

Britt brushes him off, giggling nervously. “You’ll be there?” she asks Tahoe.

Malena even looks uncomfortable, shifting from one foot and looking off to the side. Tahoe laughs, all white shark teeth and astonishment. I shrink into myself a little more. Britt is proving why a relationship with Tahoe would never work. He’s out of my league and it’s obvious to everyone around us. Why do I care? “I’ll be there. Caroline can’t keep me away. Right, Sunny?” Tahoe asks. It takes a second for me to realize he’s referring to me.

I let the nickname breeze past in lieu of ambivalence. “Sure, yeah. Why not? This is all your idea,” I reply, handing my empty to Tahoe which he grabs, eyes narrowed, curious about my attitude. Social gatherings aren’t my thing. Ones where I’m the sole focus are of the variety that haunt my nightmares. He has to know me enough to surmise it. Some sleuthing SEAL he’s turning out to be.

Whit returns with a new beer that Britt eyes down with unmasked hatred. He ignores Tahoe in favor of looking at me. With beady eyes, Whit bops his head to the new tune. “Crick’s Beach and now the airport, huh, Caroline? Didn’t take you for that kind.” Neither did I. Wouldn’t have dreamt it up in a million years. Me, entertaining the thought of a relationship with someone who doesn’t know every sordid detail of my entire life. That’s not the way it works around here. Britt and Malena speak quietly to avoid Whit’s accusation. “Maybe that’s what it takes,” Whit adds. That statement is why I dreaded walking into this place.

When I don’t respond, Tahoe does. “Everyone loves fresh blood, man. Lighten up. Not like I’m stealing your girl. She’s all yours. Forever,” he says, his words dripping with sarcasm. The glowing smile Britt has worn since spotting Tahoe vanishes in an instant. It’s probably the opposite of what you’d expect from a newly engaged woman. Whit gets to watch as she seethes in irritation so deep it’s written all over her body. I could kiss him for this—for exposing their false love. Without thinking, I grab his hand and lace my fingers between his. My hand gets lost in his sheer size, and my body shudders at the immediate warmth. It takes several awkward seconds before she realizes Whit is watching her—judging her reaction, scorned in his masculinity in the presence of such a fine example.

Slowly, Tahoe leans over and grabs Whit by the shoulder. Never has he looked larger than life than in this moment. “Congrats again, man. You lucked out,” he says, voice gravelly. Before he leans away he flicks his gaze to a horrified Britt. “I wish you an eternity of happiness.” The wish sounds like a threat. My heart is racing because no one talks to the It’s like that, no one calls them out on the lies so effectively. Tahoe even did it the southern, subtle way.

“Caroline May!” My name is screamed in a high pitched shrill. Bless that girl. Shirley. She bounds to us breaking the circle of awkward. It takes her less than two seconds to assess the atmosphere. “Don’t tell me,” Shirley drawls, “Whitney has his panties in a bunch because this fine ass specimen got into Caroline’s panties before he did?” Shirley runs her hands, spirit fingers and all, up and down in front of Tahoe’s body. I stifle a laugh. Malena, finding a comrade in her appreciation for what isn’t hers nods in agreement. Britt flips her hair over one shoulder while looking annoyed.

Shirley clears her throat when no one addresses her statement. “Oh, yeah. Congrats guys. It was a slow week at the diner.” She shoves a white envelope into Britt’s hand, and then turns to me. “You’re drinking right? Let’s go grab a drink. Gaston will let you out of his grip, yeah?” Tahoe squeezes my hand and the nervous energy in my body morphs into a warmness stemming from where his skin touches mine.

Not once in my life have I been more appreciative of my best friend’s insane, straight forward personality. “Beer. I’m drinking beer. Let’s go to the bar.” She snakes an arm around my waist and the rest of the group moves on, leaving Tahoe alone. “Thank God you showed when you did.”

She skips once, pleased with herself for her social torment. “They’re a mess. Notice neither denied it. Whit has wanted you since the moment you were born.”

“That’s disgusting, Shirley.”

Shrugging she says, “He’s a gross dude. I don’t know what to tell you.”

I lean into her ear. “He asked me to be his girlfriend. Says he’s ready for something more. I don’t know what to think. I told him he could rent air space and equipment, so I gave him what he wanted and he’s still here.” I swallow down the fear of the unknown. Somehow, I know if I agree to take on Tyler Holiday in a relationship capacity, everything will change and probably not for the good.

Shirley catcalls. “I fucking knew it. This is your reward for being a social recluse all of your life. You get to have that.” She eyes Tahoe over my shoulder. “He’s checking out your ass right now.”

Whit grumbles under his breath as he takes another drink off the wet bar top and retreats to his friends. Shirley orders our drinks, flirting with the bartender because that’s her protocol, and passes me another foamy beer without turning around. Some of the amber liquid splashes on my neck and chest before I can sip and I wipe at it with my bare hand, managing to make more skin stink like dirty brew. It’s crowded now that the sun has disappeared and folks are out of work for the weekend. I tap Shirley to thank her and make my way back to Tahoe.

A few people stop me to chat, but I can’t help but seek him out in the crowd as I make small talk. Most are curious about the airport and have heard the news I was taking it over. He watches me, like he’s studying me. I wonder if he regrets what he said earlier, if he’s deciding I’m not worth the trouble and whether he should stick to his status quo. Malena would give him what he wants, so would a number of other girls. He knows I’m more…complicated, though. I’m giving myself a pep-talk when Shirley comes up next to me and links arms. She’s not done telling me what I should think yet. I never get away that easily.

“Have you told him?” she asks. It could mean a thousand things, but without saying a word, I know which question she’s asking because of how he’s watching me—undressing me.

Tahoe drains his beer without taking his eyes off me. Bringing the glass down, he licks his lips. I shudder as heat overtakes my whole body. “I’m blushing right now aren’t I?” I pant out. “Of course I haven’t told him. It’s not like that.” I amend, “It hasn’t been like that.”

“Don’t. I wouldn’t. You should lie,” she says, patting me on my ass as she scuttles away to tackle Caleb in a hug. It’s probably sound advice, with the only problem being I cannot lie. Not for all the tea in China. My poker face looks like a scared cat after being dipped in water. Something tells me a man like Tahoe, a SEAL, will call me out on any lie I try to concoct. One watching me as closely as this one right now? Game over. It will only be a matter of time before he knows the truth about me. He’ll have all of my dirty secrets in the palm of his hand, just like every other person in this bar. The beers have mellowed my mood, but my stomach is flipping wildly with the unmade decision looming in front of me. He’s a breathing masterpiece of masculinity and an untouchable quality that leaves me lightheaded.

When I’m close enough to touch, he runs his knuckles down the side of my face—a feather light touch that seems impossible given the size of his hand. “Head back to your place and hang that fixture?” Tahoe says, leaning forward so he can be heard over the new, louder music blasting around us. “If you want.” It feels like a loaded statement. Does agreeing to this, mean I’m agreeing to everything? I take another sip of my beer the second he brings his hand away from my face. Breathing is hard. Focusing is hard. Everything on his body is hard. Sure I’ve had crushes on men before, but the crackling between my body and Tahoe’s feels like being squeezed to death without care of the outcome.

When I don’t respond, he goes on, “What are you thinking about right now?”

Shaking my head, I remember myself, and decide honesty is best. “How my friends want you. Even the ones that aren’t supposed to want you,” I say, taking another sip of beer. “How I want you and I know I’m not supposed to.”

Tahoe smirks. “Go on,” he prods. “You’re not done yet.”

Shaking my head once again, I guzzle the rest, and slide the mug onto a high top next to us. “I’m thinking it’s a bad idea, wait, scratch that, a horrible idea for me to get entangled with you. You’re going to be working at my airport. What happens when it doesn’t work out? I have to look at you,” I say, waving my hand down his body. “I’ve seen the muscles under those clothes. You’re enormous.” His grin widens—eyes dancing across my face in complete amusement. “I’m also thinking I have no idea how to be a girlfriend. Your girlfriend. I’m kind of hoping you were joking about that back in the truck. Are you asking to hang the lighting fixture, or are you asking to hang my lighting fixture? I need you to be upfront with me because I’m bad at this.” Covering my face with both hands, I let the mortification seep in, then peek around briefly to see who is around. “I can’t shut up. This is horrible.”

“No one heard your tirade,” Tahoe assures, narrowing his eyes. “Though, take heart. No one knows how to be my girlfriend, Caroline. I’ll let you define how to do that,” he says, one dimple rippling next to his smile. “If you’re interested in the gig.”

Looking off to the side to avoid the power of his gaze, I blow out a breath. “And the lighting fixture?” I ask, furrowing my brow.

Tahoe laughs. “Needs to be hung?” he asks.

It does. My God does it ever. “You realize how intimidating it is being in your proximity, right?” I ask. Shaking my head, I say, “I’m glad you used it earlier with Whit, but turn it down a little right now, okay?” I think about the first time I saw him. How I pegged him for a man I wouldn’t approach if my Mama’s life was on the line.

Tahoe rests his hands on my shoulders. “You’ll get used to it,” he says, lips wet and shining. I swallow hard. His hands slide from my shoulders, down my arms.

Shirley clears her throat next to me. “Don’t mind me. I’m just living vicariously through you,” she says, “He’s touching you.”

Tahoe drops his hands and pulls me to his side. “I’d like to touch more of her, but we’re sitting here talking about hanging light fixtures,” he says to my friend, squeezing me a little bit harder for a second or two.

“Shirley don’t be so insane, please. I thought you were hanging out with Caleb tonight,” I edge, trying to change the subject.

She shrugs. “He’s over there talking to Malena. You know when she gets her claws out, he has no choice but to reminisce with her.” Caleb and Malena have had a few passion fueled nights in the past. “Plus, everyone is talking about how Hulk was a jerk to Whit and that’s way more interesting.”

“He wasn’t a jerk,” I exclaim. “I mean, not really, anyways. Whit is incorrigible,” I hiss. High school drama as adults is one of things I wouldn’t miss about this place.

Shirley takes this opportunity to tell Tahoe about Whit’s permanent crush on me throughout high-school and beyond. On one of his breaks from Britt, he pursued me so hard I was confident Britt was going to find out and have her posse pummel my face into pulp. I almost gave in just so Whit would leave me alone. Luckily one of the other wallflowers in our graduating class ended up fooling around with him every Wednesday behind the greenhouse and he seemed to forget about me for the moment. Anytime I had a date to a school event, Whit made it clear he wasn’t happy. It was like I was choosing someone else over him and that’s something he’s not okay with. I saw it tonight. At his own engagement party. Shirley had it right, and everyone knew it.

“Whit wants the wrong things,” Tahoe says, breaking up the lull in conversation.

Shirley harrumphs, “You got that right. Maybe once they get married they’ll keep their evil contained in the confines of their marriage,” Shirley muses. “Wishful thinking, though. I’m sure he’s in the bathroom getting blown by Britt’s best friend right now.”

“This town is far more scandalous than anyone lets on,” he replies, amused by my friend’s musings.

I stay silent, in favor of playing back memories from the past.

“It is Bronze Bay, Tyler Holiday. We keep our tan secrets in the Bay water. Don’t swim here too long. You’ll never be able to scrub the dirt off,” Shirley says, winking at me. “They’re not the type of secrets that wash off with soap.”

“Deep insight, Shirley,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. Looking up at Tahoe I say, “I’m squeaky clean. Don’t worry about having to hose me off.”

Shirley and Tahoe laugh, like they’re in on some joke. “Fine,” he says, biting his lip. “I won’t hose you off…right now, but I do want to know which of the men in here are your exes.” His expression grows wary as he surveys the room.

“None of them,” I nearly bark out the words. A few people look our way, but pretend they’re not interested in what we’re talking about. “Of course none of them, I mean,” I say, keeping my voice lower.

Shirley confirms my truth. “Why are they all looking at me like they want to kill me then?” Tahoe says it with a smile on his face, gaze bouncing from one BB man to the next.

I try to see what he sees, but I can’t make out anything except the normal people who are in my life in some form or another, almost every day of my life. “They aren’t jealous because of me,” I reply. “Probably that muscle we were talking about earlier. Muscle envy.”

Tahoe raises his brow and looks between me and Shirley. “She really has no clue, huh?” He asks, when his gaze lands on Shirley.

My friend cackles. “She never has and never will. It’s part of her charm.”

“Excuse me. I am standing right here,” I say, trying and failing to pull away from Tahoe’s grasp. “Just because I don’t date around, doesn’t mean I’m completely oblivious to…male attention.”

Tahoe clears his throat. “Male attention?” Stifling a laugh, he coughs.

Shirley hits Tahoe on the shoulder. “Show her the ropes,” she says to him. To me, “I expect you to be less oblivious, and not hungover at our shift in the morning.” Then she disappears for what I’m sure is the last time tonight. She’ll be afraid of me when I clock in at the diner in the morning. Tahoe moves us closer to the door and I can’t let another second pass without telling him. “I’m not naïve. I’ve already told you I don’t have time for a relationship.”

“But you’ll make time for me?” It’s not really a question with the way he’s smiling at me. Like he’s just won the greatest victory in the history of victories.

I roll my eyes. I’m doing this. “Only because you’re good looking,” I say, lacing my fingers through his.