Chapter 15 Ilsa
Ilsa
“Is this weird?” I asked Spencer as we walked along Pine Street’s shoveled sidewalk.
He lifted a shoulder.
“It’s weird.” I frowned. “Do you want me to hurry ahead so people don’t see us together?”
“Nah, it’s cool.”
Not the answer I’d expected from a teenager walking to school with his math teacher. “Really? You’re not embarrassed to be seen with me?”
“No.” He tucked his hands into his coat pockets.
“Okay. Well, if you change your mind when we get closer to school, I’ll stop to tie my shoe.”
He glanced down to my caramel, knee-high boots. Boots without laces to tie. The corners of his mouth turned up, and it made him look so much like his dad that I couldn’t help but smile back.
“I’m overthinking this.”
“Just a little.” He laughed and hitched his backpack higher over his shoulders.
Spencer wasn’t quite as tall as his dad, but he stood well above my height, and every few steps, he’d glance down. Probably because I was staring up at him.
Did he know about Cosi and me? So far, I hadn’t noticed him acting strange, and I had to believe that if he knew I’d slept with his father, he’d act strange. But this morning, he’d seemed his normal teenage self.
Not that I knew his normal teenage self very well.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.” I waved him off as we reached Main Street and turned the corner to continue on to Dalton High.
I’d been overthinking for hours and couldn’t exactly shut it off, no matter how hard I’d tried to stop.
The gossip was inevitable. Sooner rather than later, people would learn that there’d been a fire at the cabin, and afterward, I’d spent the weekend at Cosi Raynes’s house. If they suspected I’d spent the weekend in his bed too, they wouldn’t be wrong.
Cosi had fucked me again yesterday morning after we’d woken up, then he’d carried me into his shower. I’d never had this many orgasms in a week, let alone a twelve-hour period. And while I was entirely satisfied, I still wanted more.
But the minute Spencer had come home from his sleepover at his grandmother’s house, I’d made sure to keep at least three feet of personal space between Cosi and me. I’d spent a solid hour freaked out and convinced Spencer could smell Cosi’s Zest soap on my skin.
The three of us had spent an awkward afternoon in the living room. Well, it had been awkward for me. Neither Cosi nor Spencer had seemed to care.
Spencer had come home and flopped on the couch to watch basketball on TV. Cosi had taken the recliner, alternating between watching the game and getting up to do laundry or tidy up around the house.
My plan had been to read through Dad’s journal and attempt to make sense of its chaos. Except every time Cosi stood from his chair, my gaze automatically went to his ass. Then I spent the next ten minutes worrying that Spencer had seen me ogling his father’s very sculpted behind.
By the time Cosi had gone to the kitchen to make burgers for dinner, I’d been a ball of nerves.
Thankfully, as far as I could tell, Spencer hadn’t been the wiser. Just like he didn’t seem to know that after he’d gone to bed, his father had stolen me away to his. Again.
So much for just one night.
That plan had disintegrated like wet tissue paper the moment Cosi’s hand had captured mine, and he’d jerked his chin toward his bedroom.
But the weekend was over. It was Monday and time to get my shit together.
I’d slipped out of Cosi’s bed this morning at four o’clock, and as I’d showered and pulled on a black sweaterdress for work, I’d made myself a new promise.
No more. The sex was fucking fantastic, but this could not continue. And tonight, it was time for me to go home.
“My grandma said you used to live here,” Spencer said. “When you were a kid.”
“Yeah. It was a long time ago. I used to come every summer to stay with my dad. His house is on Cotters Lake.”
“That’s cool. Dad takes me out there sometimes in the summer.”
“It’s a nice spot,” I said as we passed Ted’s Taxidermy. There was a stuffed jackrabbit in the window holding a sign that read Closed. “When I was a kid, that jackrabbit also had antlers.”
Spencer laughed. “It still does in the summer. Ted puts them back on for the tourists.”
Dalton was located a bit too far off the beaten path to be a popular travel destination, but enough people flocked to this area on their way to Glacier National Park that Dad used to grumble about the abundance of out-of-state license plates every summer.
This town had a unique charm beneath its rugged exterior. Most of the buildings and signs were familiar from my youth, and in a way, it was like stepping back in time. To the days when life seemed simpler. Happier.
The IGA was the same sage green it had been painted when I was young with the same shopping carts with red handles. Every other building had wooden siding that blended in with the surrounding trees. The new businesses had a shine that both clashed and balanced the older, weathered establishments.
“Dalton hasn’t changed much since I was a kid,” I told Spencer. “Does the ice cream shop still make homemade huckleberry ice cream in the summer?”
“Yeah. It’s my favorite. Dad’s too.”
I’d have to stick around long enough for that.
I’d have to stay in town long enough to see Dalton emerge from these piles of snow.
To see if they still put flags and hanging flower baskets on each streetlight.
To wander up and down Main Street with a bag of popcorn from the popper at the hardware store.
A yellow school bus passed on the road, its back tires covered in chains.
“Are you coming back to our place after school?” he asked.
“I’m hoping I can go home. Give you back your house. Stop making you share a bathroom with me.”
He watched the ground as we walked, his stride shortening to match mine until we were in sync. “We don’t mind. If you have to stay. Especially if your cabin isn’t safe. Don’t feel like you have to go. It’s cool. It doesn’t bother me.”
I wasn’t sure where the glowering, grumpy version of Spencer Raynes had gone this weekend, but I also didn’t want him back. This kid was quickly becoming my favorite person in Dalton. He was funny. Kind. Considerate. Smart, even though he didn’t like to show it for some reason.
“Thanks, Spencer.”
“Yeah. Sure. Whatever.”
The bus pulled into the loop at the school, its doors opening.
As the students streamed out, Spencer adjusted the brim of the baseball hat he was wearing.
He’d have to take it off once we got inside, but it was clearly part of the teenage male dress code.
Every boy came to school wearing a hat along with jeans and cowboy boots.
A couple high school boys walked off the bus, one of them lifting a hand to wave at Spencer.
He jerked up his chin.
“Need me to stop and tie my boot?”
He rolled his eyes. “Come on. Let’s cross the street.”
The students in my last period of the day flew out of their chairs at the final bell. As they streamed past me for the door, each dropped today’s pop quiz on my desk.
Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I didn’t seem to get as many angry looks as normal. No one threw their quiz in my face.
Was I actually making progress with these kids?
I was taking it as a win and calling today quits.
Opening the drawer of my desk, I took out my briefcase, stuffing the quizzes inside to grade later.
Then I pulled on my coat and, after collecting my purse and jar of water, flipped off the classroom’s lights and hurried down the hallway, dodging students as I made my way to the exit.
“Miss Poe.” Principal Harlan’s voice bounced off the walls, mingling with the sound of lockers slamming and kids laughing. Mizzz Poe.
“Ugh,” I muttered, turning to find him strutting my way, his chest puffed. I feigned a happy smile. “Hello, Principal Harlan.”
He made a show of checking his watch. “Leaving already?”
“Yes, I’m so sorry. I’ve got an errand to run.” Not exactly an errand but he didn’t need to know the details.
“I heard about what happened at your house. The fire.”
Already? News was traveling fast in Dalton. “Oh. Yes. It was rather . . . unsettling.”
“I imagine. You’re staying with Sheriff Raynes?”
What the hell? How could he possibly know that already? “Yes,” I drawled. “It was just for the weekend. I didn’t realize the motel was closed for two months.”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I don’t need to remind you that he is a parent.”
“I’m well aware.” Where was he going with this?
“While relationships between teachers and parents are not explicitly against our rules, they are frowned upon.”
Heat crept into my face, more anger and embarrassment than guilt.
This was not a conversation that should be happening in a busy hallway full of curious students. Harlan must really dislike me if he couldn’t even call me into his office for a modicum of privacy.
“Understood. Good day, Mr. Harlan.” My hands balled into fists as I turned and walked away.
The few students who glanced my way read the murderous expression on my face and shied away. Smart kids. I stormed to the door, pushing it open with too much force.
God, he was such an asshole. At least I knew how long it would take for rumors to swirl around town. Less than one business day.
The gossips must have been working at light speed for word to have reached the school already. “Shit.”
People must be speculating that Cosi and I had something going on. They were right. But that didn’t make it any easier to know strangers were talking about me behind my back.
It was definitely time for me to get out of Cosi’s house and go home.
But first, I had a stop to make. Frustration fueled my steps as I marched down Main to the bar. Trick and Sully’s parking lot was empty, not a single vehicle parked out front. Good. It would be easier to talk to Trick without an audience.
Just like the last time I’d visited, music from the jukebox greeted me as I opened the front door and stepped into the dimly lit room. The scent of cigarettes wasn’t as strong but a faint cloud cloaked the air, a haze I suspected was permanent. Beneath it all was a hint of bleach and citrus.
“Hey there, trouble.” Trick gave me a crooked grin from behind the bar. In front of him was a cutting board loaded with lemons and limes.
“Hey, Trick.”
“Wait.” He pointed at me, setting down the knife in his other hand. Then he spun for the shelf at his back and picked up his baseball bat, setting it beside that cutting board. “This time, I’ll be prepared.”
I laughed, the anger from my conversation with Harlan fading as I slid onto a stool. “Sorry.”
“I’m just teasin’. Don’t worry about the other night. Beautiful woman in town, everyone takes notice.”
“No, I jinxed it by talking about a bar fight.”
“This is true.” He laughed. “I hope Paul Johnson knows you were looking out for him.”
“Uh, no. That kid hates me.”
Every day, Paul called me Miss Crone. And every day, he’d make a veiled threat about me being sorry. I had a feeling that when Harlan did eventually fire me, Paul Johnson—or his father—would be the driving force behind that termination.
“His loss,” Trick said.
“Thanks.”
It would have been so easy to flirt with Trick, except after this weekend with Cosi, all I could muster was a wobbly smile.
“I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind answering a few more questions about my dad.”
“Of course. Want anything to drink?”
“No, thanks.” I picked up my jar and set it on the bar. “I’ve got water.”
He barked a laugh. “You know, Ike used to carry a jar around everywhere. Left a few behind from time to time too. I think I’ve got a marinara sauce jar around here somewhere. Not a conventional water bottle but it worked for him.”
“Works for me too.” I unscrewed the brass lid and took a sip. “I was wondering if Dad ever mentioned anything about an atlas or a key.”
“An atlas or a key.” Trick’s forehead furrowed. “Like the keys to his truck?”
“I don’t know.” I sighed. “Hence why I’m here. He left a few letters behind and, in one of them, mentioned a key and an atlas. There was no context to the note, so I can’t tell if it actually means something or if it’s nonsense.”
“Sorry.” Trick reached out like he was about to touch my hand, except a bright flash filled the bar and his gaze drifted over my head to the door. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Boots thudded as a rugged voice sent tingles down my spine.
My heart skipped.
That voice had kept me awake most of last night.
I didn’t bother turning as Cosi came to stand beside me, stretching a hand across the bar to shake with Trick.
He was dressed in the same clothes he had been this morning when he’d left the house for the station. Wrangler jeans that molded to his ass and hugged his thighs. A dark green button-down shirt that brought out the mossy flecks in his eyes.
“Can I get you anything, Raynes?” Trick asked.
Cosi shook his head. “No, I’m good but thanks.”
“You two are bad for business.” Trick winked at me. “Though maybe I can convince Ilsa to stick around and have dinner with me. Sandi should be in shortly to bartend tonight. We could even hit up the café if you haven’t been there yet. What do you say?”
Oh, hell. Trick was cute and sweet, but the only man I was interested in dating was currently wearing a gun and a scowl. “Oh, um—”
“No.” Cosi didn’t so much as look at me as he answered Trick’s question, but the possessiveness was clear.
Trick’s gaze swung between us. “Ah. Got it. I’m too late.”
“Sorry.” I gave him a sympathetic smile.
“Don’t worry about it.” He winked at me again, picking up his bat to stow beside the cash register.
As Trick moved away from the bar, I looked up at Cosi with my own scowl, lowering my voice. “So much for not broadcasting this. Whatever this is.”
“This is me coming to pick you up from school only to find out you walked to the bar.”
“Well, I would have driven except you won’t take me home to get my truck.
” If that truck would even start. It was still cold, but the temperature had warmed a little.
I was keeping all of my fingers crossed I could get Dad’s pickup going.
“Wait. You came to pick me up. Why? Does that mean I can go home?”
“No.”
That momentary glimmer of hope died a quick death. “Why not?”
He took the stool beside mine, sitting sideways to face me. The moment I looked into his eyes, my stomach dropped.
Cosi wasn’t here to make some macho claim on his latest romantic fling. He was here because something bad had happened.
“What’s wrong?”
He put his hand on my thigh, and in true Cosi fashion, he didn’t hesitate. “Someone vandalized the cabin.”