Chapter 6
Owen
Bee fought and kicked, thrashing around as I carried her through the building, past the tourist knickknacks, around the deep red of the scratched vinyl booths of the snack bar, and back toward the launching dock.
I hefted her up higher, repositioning her unexpectedly heavy overnight bag so that I could radio down to Azi. “Hey. Can you call Benny and tell him I got Bee, and we’re headed down? I got my hands full at the moment.”
The entire time I coordinated with Azi, Bee hollered nonstop. “This is kidnapping! I won’t go down without a fight! You aren’t the boss of me. Oh, how much are those chile socks? No. Not the time. Unhand me!”
“I can hear that.” Azi laughed. “Who was it?”
“Bee.”
“Are you saying ‘bee’ like a bumblebee?”
This was not happening again.
“Bee Perkins,” I ground out. “Works at Grizabella’s.”
It was hard enough to manage her, let alone trying to explain things to Azi. How could he not know who she was? What was wrong with this town?
“I don’t know who that is,” Azi said.
“Typical,” she grumbled. Bee groaned and relaxed her muscles so she was somehow both harder and easier to handle.
Unexpected protectiveness surged in me. It was one thing for me to be enchanted and annoyed by her, but it was another thing entirely for Azi to have never noticed her. As far as I was concerned, this was mostly his fault. I mean, aside from it being very obviously her fault. Where had she been when he closed up shop earlier? Had he not seen her? I was close to snapping at him, the anxiety of the upcoming trip down the tram making me irritated.
“Are you ready to get us down?” I asked instead of scolding him.
“Ready when you are. I was starting to sweat it, Soupman. It’s rough out there and getting worse every minute,” Azi said, not helping my churning worry.
“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this.” Bee slapped at my back and smacked my ass in the process. “Sorry,” she squeaked in a high voice. “I didn’t mean to—hey!”
I patted her ass lightly in retaliation. I hadn’t meant to. It was a reflex. We both stilled, neither acknowledging the weirdness before I kept walking again.
“Ah! Stop! Do my needs mean nothing?” she continued. “Can’t you just pretend I’m not here like the rest of the town? Why, of all the times, does somebody actually care about where I am?”
I had no idea what she was talking about, and I was too absorbed in my growing trepidation to focus on her ranting. I set her down just inside the tram doors, blocking her from any chance of escape. It was at least twenty degrees colder outside the shop on the loading dock. She huddled her arms tight around herself despite the fury that made her cheeks rosy. The cheeks on her face. Though there was a chance that now her ass …
I cleared my throat, determined to stay attentive. I scanned her from head to toe, then dropped her bag on the bench in the tram behind her. We had to get going, but that weird excuse of an outfit wouldn’t cut it.
“You’re going to freeze out there. Get your heavy coat on. And any other layers you have.” I jutted my chin in the direction of her duffel, which should have clothes along with the bricks that had to be in there.
“I came from work. I didn’t have time to change,” she said, not meeting my gaze.
“Is this all you have to wear?” I reached out to feel the material of the long coat she wore, which was hardly warm enough for a mild spring storm.
“No touchy.” She smacked my hand away.
I narrowed my eyes at her but lowered my hand. She huffed with annoyance. “I hadn’t planned to go outside.”
“Ever?”
She crossed her arms and glared.
“It’s winter. On the mountain,” I added.
“Thanks. I didn’t see that,” she said dryly.
I gestured to her high collar, and she flinched back again, turning away. “What have you got on under there?” My curiosity was piqued.
“Absolutely none of your business.”
I pinched the area between my eyes where a growing headache named Bee formed.
“Anything warm at all in that bag? The tram has a heater, but the wind cuts through.”
“I’ll just stay here where it’s nice and warm then. As planned.” Her face was scrunched up in a stubborn scowl.
“Hang on, Azi. Five more minutes,” I said through the radio as she glared at me.
“Really gotta move out, Soups,” he said.
“I’m trying,” I ground out. To Bee, I said, “Stay. Here. Or there will be consequences.”
She eyed behind me.
“Don’t even think about it,” I said.
“You can’t control what I think. I’ll think whatever I want.” She held my gaze, dark with fury. “I’m thinking about things so hard right now.” She was defiant even as her teeth chattered just from standing near the threshold.
I didn’t like how my body reacted to her words. Even at the worst, most annoying moment of my life, a part of me still crushed on her and liked her defiance, her lack of fear. What would she trust me with? What would she let me do to her?
“Fine.” I scooped her back up, not even breaking a sweat, as she yelped. There was less resistance this time as I carried her over to the dusty old nylon snowsuits.
“Pick your size.” I set her down, holding her shoulders in place while facing the rack.
“I’m not buying these. Aside from being grossly overpriced, they’re very out of fashion,” she said with a curl of her lip.
I took a deep breath in and out, calming myself. “Benny Jr. will pay. Work expense. Now pick something, and let’s get going.”
With every second that ticked by, my anxiety grew. If even Azi, the most mellow dude, was getting anxious about the snow, then we didn’t have time for this.
She hemmed and hawed between two different suits. Pulling one out, she held it to her waist with a thoughtful hmm before doing the same with the other.
“You pick, or I will,” I said.
She blew out a breath, making her lips raspberry. “Fine.” She grabbed one off the rack. “At least the style matches my hair. If we happen to travel thirty years into the past, I’ll fit right in.”
I glanced back at the waiting tram. “Come on, put them on.”
“Right here?” she asked.
“We don’t have time. Let’s go.” Anger made my tone sharp, and she flinched.
Shame lanced me. Up until that point, she’d not seem to fear me even a little. My anxiety made my temper short.
Her gaze shifted from side to side. “Turn around.”
“Nice try. Not letting you out of my sight,” I said.
“Well, I’m not getting dressed in front of you.”
I sighed. “I’m not asking you to get naked; just take off that pointless coat and throw those on over your clothes …”
As I spoke, her hand crept to the high collar and gripped it tighter.
“Tell me you’re not naked under there.” The headache pulsed along with a flash of heat down my neck.
“I am not naked under here,” she said robotically.
What sort of weird, kinky shit had she been up to up here? Why was my heart hammering suddenly? Why was I desperate to see what was hidden under that coat?
“I don’t want to know.” I scrubbed at my head. “Look, we really don’t—Just. Fine. I’ll turn around, but you better keep a hand on me at all times”—she opened her mouth to argue—“or foot or whatever. Something better be touching me, or I’ll turn around, finished or not.”
She made another petulant sound but nodded.
I turned around before I could blush. Ridiculous. She was just a woman. I’d seen plenty of women. But whatever it took to get her out of there and not make her flinch away from me again.
There was a soft sound of fabric brushing before the coat fell down the back of my legs to pool on the floor at my feet. I was keenly aware of her at my back, not naked but wearing something indecent. My mind was having a field day, imagining what she was up to.
I cleared my throat. “Hurry it along.”
“It’s not easy with one hand,” she said as the loud material shuffled.
“I can reach out a hand and hold you if that’s easier.” I hadn’t meant for my voice to come out so deep.
“No. This is … I’ll just.” The flat, dainty expanse of her back pressed against mine as she leaned into me. Her heat and round edges rubbed against me with every movement as she shifted and wiggled. She smelled so sweet and clean, and her half-cut hair brushed my shoulder. My head moved ever so slightly to the side, and her shampoo’s sweet smell had my eyes falling closed.
I jolted, head up and eyes open. I counted the spots in the ancient popcorn ceiling, teeth clenched.
“Okay. Done,” she announced.
I turned around to find her swimming in the too-big snowsuit. The bright pinks, purples, and oranges of a neon sunset striped across a faded, yellowing white. “Good enough,” I said.
“I am much warmer.” She shrugged.
“Funny how that works.” Some of my tension released to finally be moving forward.
I frowned to find her feet hardly covered in thin canvas tennis shoes that provided no protection.
I grabbed a pair of thick socks.
“Yay! Chile socks,” she said, snatching them from me.
I held her material by the sleeve and dragged her back to the dock, gathering the outerwear I’d set down earlier. I shut and locked the door to the gift shop behind us.
“Loaded and ready,” I said to Azi as we gathered into The Can.
Bee gazed pitifully at the building we’d just left behind, but I couldn’t move fast enough.
“Okay. Let’s go,” he said. After a beat, the familiar whirring of the engine kicked to life. “Hang on tight.”
I shot one last look at the storm before the tram engaged. She sucked in a breath when we lurched into motion. As soon as we left the half-housed safety of the dock, a massive gust rocked us to the side. My palms were damp in the thick gloves as my stomach roiled and attempted to spin out and up my throat. I clamped onto the pole, breathing through clenched teeth.
The mission was almost over. Bee and I would be down this mountain in twenty long minutes. Benny would pay me, and I would ring in the new year in peace, just like I wanted. I just had to get through twenty minutes. One thousand two hundred seconds. Easy.
Bee went to one of the bench seats, threw her bag on the floor, and slumped into the chair. The smooth texture of the chair combined with the suit’s fabric meant she kept slipping down and then had to push herself back up every so often.
Her antics distracted me for a while, but the motion sickness returned. Or maybe the fear of plummeting to our death.
This was the longest tram ride of my life. Every minute passed like an hour. I tried desperately not to look out the windows because there was only darkness and wind and unimaginable horrors.
I held on to the rail in the middle, not letting my anxiety show. The last thing I wanted was for Bee to get scared and have to worry about soothing her too. She kept glancing at me to check for safety, the way the passengers of a plane looked at the flight attendants when turbulence got bad.
I put on my most placid, stoic face, pretending not to notice her glances.
For once, my strength and size might provide comfort.