Chapter 14
Joy’s hands trembled the next day as she scrubbed at the already spotless table surface. She’d been watching the whole scene unfold for thirty minutes, and every second made her jaw clench tighter.
The Friday night rush at the Eagle’s Nest was in full swing, the familiar aromas of burgers and fries mingling with the sounds of clinking glasses and laughter. It should have been just another shift, but nothing about today felt normal. Not after waking up this morning tangled around Bear on that ridiculously small cot in her playhouse, their bodies pressed together by necessity, leaving her frustrated and wanting.
God, she’d cursed herself a hundred times today for not making it up those damn stairs to his apartment. She could’ve been savoring the memory of his hands on her body instead of trying to restore circulation to her numb extremities after a night in the cramped playhouse.
“More water, please, when you get a chance.”
Joy startled, blinking at the middle-aged couple smiling up at her.
“Of course. Coming right up.” She plastered on a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and headed toward the bar.
Which meant walking directly past the scene that had been eating her alive for the last half hour.
Three women in scrubs sat perched at the bar—travel nurses on short-term contracts at Oak Creek Medical. Joy had served them dinner earlier. Two seemed nice enough. But the blond one—Cassie—hadn’t stopped flirting with Bear since he’d come in from the garage for an after-work beer.
Joy gripped her serving tray so tightly her knuckles went white. Bear wasn’t even working as a bartender tonight. He was just a customer sitting at the bar in a worn Henley that hugged his broad shoulders, nursing a beer and looking perfectly relaxed despite Cassie’s transparent attempts to flirt.
“You must be the best mechanic in town,” Cassie purred, twirling her martini glass between manicured fingers. She leaned forward, giving Bear an unobstructed view of her cleavage. “My car’s been making this weird noise. Maybe you could take a look at it for me?”
Joy bit the inside of her cheek, hovering near the water station as she filled glasses with exaggerated concentration.
“Bring it by the garage,” Bear replied, his tone even and professional. “I’ll get you scheduled.”
Joy caught the subtle shift in his posture—turning slightly away, keeping his beer between them. He wasn’t interested. Not even a little.
But Cassie wasn’t deterred. “I was hoping for a private consultation.”
The water glass nearly overflowed in Joy’s hand. Seriously? Private consultation?
What was Joy supposed to do, march over there and announce: He’s mine. Back off. He spent last night sleeping with me in my playhouse because I’m too neurotic to make it up the stairs to his place like a normal person would.
Yeppers. That would be impressive.
Joy forced herself to turn away, delivering waters to her waiting table with mechanical precision. She had zero claim on Bear. They hadn’t defined anything. A few kisses, one night snuggled together in the most uncomfortable conditions possible. That was hardly a relationship.
But God, the thought of that woman’s hands on him made something possessive and dangerous curl in Joy’s chest.
“Careful with those glasses, tiger.” Hudson’s amused voice cut through her thoughts. “We’re running low on clean ones.”
Joy blinked, realizing she’d slammed her serving tray onto the counter with more force than necessary. Several patrons glanced over.
“Glass was slipping,” she muttered.
Hudson smirked, crossing his arms as he followed her gaze toward the bar. “Right. So, it has nothing to do with Nurse Flirty-Pants over there putting her hands all over Bear?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Joy snatched a clean rag and began aggressively wiping the already spotless counter.
“Uh-huh.” Hudson chuckled. “You’re about as subtle as a hurricane, Davis.”
“Don’t you have drinks to pour?” She glared at him, which only deepened his infuriating grin.
“Nothing I enjoy more than watching you try to pretend you’re not jealous.”
“I am not j—” She stopped herself, exhaling sharply. “Bear can talk to whoever he wants. I don’t care.”
“Sure you don’t.” Hudson’s expression softened marginally. “Which is why you’ve been cleaning that same square foot of counter for the last five minutes while shooting death glares at the blonde.”
Joy dropped the rag, forcing herself to turn away. She had tables to serve, work to do, distractions to embrace. She would not obsess over the laughing blonde at the bar. Would not care about the way Cassie kept finding excuses to touch Bear’s arm.
She wouldn’t.
For the next fifteen minutes, Joy threw herself into the dinner rush—refilling drinks, delivering food, clearing tables with manic efficiency. She was managing just fine until she heard Cassie’s laughter again, louder, more intimate.
Despite her best intentions, Joy glanced over.
Cassie had shifted closer, thigh-to-thigh with Bear now. Her hand rested on his forearm as she laughed at something he’d said, flipping her hair over her shoulder in textbook flirtation.
Joy’s stomach burned.
“Excuse me, miss?”
She turned, finding herself face-to-face with a familiar customer—the hiker who’d been coming in all week. Hair just slightly too long, like a surfer. Outdoorsy clothes too new to have seen any real trails. Eyes that watched her a beat too long. What was his name again?
“Daniel, right?” Joy forced a smile, grateful for the distraction.
“That’s right.” He looked pleased she remembered. “And you’re Joy? You work here every night?”
She nodded, reaching over to wipe his table, realizing belatedly that he was still eating. “Sorry! God, I’m distracted tonight.”
“No problem.” He chuckled, taking a drink of his beer. “I can see why you like working here. Good vibe. Friendly people.” He had a practiced ease about him, smoothness that didn’t quite ring authentic. “Small towns like this, everyone must know one another.”
“Pretty much.” She wasn’t in the mood for small talk, but anything was better than watching Cassie’s hand drift higher on Bear’s arm.
“You from here?”
“Born and raised.”
Daniel nodded thoughtfully. “I’m from Boston. Can’t imagine growing up somewhere this small. Was it a blessing or a curse?”
Joy shrugged, forcing herself to focus on the conversation. “Depends who you ask and when. Small-town life has its pros and cons, like everywhere.”
“Makes sense.” He took another sip, his eyes never leaving her face. “Must’ve been scary, what happened to you.”
The rag in her hand froze mid-swipe.
Her heartbeat kicked up, but she kept her expression neutral. “What’s that?”
Daniel leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “The break-in a few weeks ago. I heard about it. Someone mentioned it the other night.”
A sharp prickle crawled up Joy’s spine. Everyone in Oak Creek knew about the attack, of course. It wasn’t a secret. But a stranger knowing about it? Made her skin crawl.
She forced a dismissive shrug. “It’s old news.”
“Still.” His gaze was steady, assessing. “Can’t imagine that happens often in a town like this.”
The last thing she wanted was to discuss the attack with someone she didn’t know. Especially not with paranoia already creeping back in, making her jumpy and agitated. And definitely not while she could hear Cassie giggling at something Bear had said.
“Well, every town has its problems.” She kept her tone light, fingers curled tightly around the edge of the booth table.
“I suppose.” Daniel watched her for a moment, letting the silence stretch uncomfortably. “Did they ever catch the guys who did it?”
Her stomach twisted. Most locals knew better than to go there. The Kozak brothers were dead—killed after taking Sloane hostage. It wasn’t a mystery that needed solving.
“The sheriff handled it.” Her smile felt brittle. “They’re not a problem anymore.”
“I’m sure that helps you feel much better.” Something in his tone set her even further on edge.
This guy wasn’t being unreasonable. It was natural for people to be curious. She still wanted to crack Daniel in the head with her tray.
She forced herself to take a steadying breath. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Nah, I’m heading out. Just came for a beer.” He dropped cash on the table as he stood. “See you around, Joy.”
She watched him leave, unease prickling at the base of her neck. Daniel seemed friendly enough, but the interaction still left her feeling exposed. Raw.
Or maybe it was just her paranoia resurfacing. One stranger asking questions, and suddenly, she was back to feeling watched, hunted.
“Order up, Joy!” Hudson’s voice snapped her back to reality.
She pushed away the crawling sensation on her skin. She wasn’t going to let one nosy out-of-towner derail more of her progress.
Neither was she going to let Nurse Handsy ruin her night.
Crossing to the pickup counter, she loaded several plates onto her tray and delivered them over to the waiting table. She grabbed dirty dishes from another booth that had been emptied and loaded her tray back up. But as she turned toward her tables, her eyes caught on the bar again.
Cassie had somehow migrated even closer to Bear, once again laughing at something he’d said. The woman’s hand traced patterns on the bar inches from his. Joy’s chest went tight, something fierce and possessive surging through her.
She marched toward the service station beside the bar, slamming her tray down with enough force that glasses rattled. Cassie startled. Half the people nearby glanced over.
“Well,” Hudson muttered from behind the bar, eyebrows raised. “That was subtle.”
Heat flooded Joy’s cheeks, but before she could snap at him or make up some excuse about uneven trays, Bear was walking toward her.
He moved with that easy confidence that always made her stomach flip, beer in hand, looking completely unbothered. One eyebrow arched, lips twitching with barely contained amusement.
“You want to tell me what that tray did to deserve that, Bug?”
Joy clenched her jaw, refusing to meet his eyes. “Nothing.”
“You sure about that?”
“Positive.”
Bear made a humming sound, deep in his throat. “Seems like maybe you’re a little jealous.”
“Of what?” Joy scoffed, grabbing a fresh rag to scrub at another already spotless patch of counter.
Bear leaned in closer, his voice dropping to that low rumble that always made her toes curl. “Of Cassie.”
She froze for a half second, then forced a laugh—too loud, too fake. “Jealous? Please.”
Bear tilted his head, dark eyes dancing with mischief. “You’re cute when you lie.”
Her face went hot. Before she could formulate a comeback, Cassie appeared at Bear’s elbow, clearly unwilling to be left out.
“My friends and I are headed out.” She placed a hand on his bicep. “Rain check on that date, Bear?”
Joy’s hands twisted the towel so tightly it might have snapped with another ounce of pressure.
Bear didn’t even look in Cassie’s direction. His eyes remained locked on Joy’s as he answered. “Not happening.”
Cassie’s perfectly glossed lips formed a pout. “Shame.” She sauntered away, her friends trailing behind her, shooting curious glances back at them.
Joy exhaled slowly, willing her hammering pulse to settle. He’d shut Cassie down without hesitation, without even looking at the other woman. Something warm and satisfied uncurled in Joy’s chest.
Bear took a long, deliberate sip of his beer, watching Joy over the rim. When he set it down, a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
He stared at her, expression patient but knowing. Damn him.
“Fine,” she huffed, flinging the towel onto the counter. “Maybe I was a little… annoyed .”
“Annoyed,” he repeated, voice neutral but eyes laughing.
“Yes.”
His lips twitched upward. “That’s funny, because from where I was sitting, it looked a whole lot like?—”
“Don’t say it.”
“—jealousy.”
Joy groaned, tipping her head back in exasperation. “You are so?—”
“Charming? Handsome? Hard to resist?” The full force of his grin hit her, making her heart stutter.
She smacked his arm, ignoring how the solid muscle felt beneath her palm. “Infuriating.”
Bear laughed, the deep, rich sound washing over her. He leaned in closer, until she could feel his warm breath against her ear. “I liked waking up next to you this morning.”
A shiver raced down her spine. Every nerve ending in her body seemed to stand at attention.
“Come hiking with me this weekend,” he continued, voice pitched low enough that only she could hear. “We’ll leave tomorrow. Stay out for a couple of nights.”
Joy blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“You and me. A couple days away. No distractions.” His eyes held hers steadily. “Let’s not worry about my place or your place. We’ll go somewhere neutral. Just enjoy each other.”
Her body hummed with anticipation, but she raised an eyebrow, feigning skepticism. “Are you inviting me on a romantic wilderness getaway, Bollinger?”
Bear’s slow grin was dangerous, predatory in a way that made her insides liquefy. “Maybe.”
“After you’ve been flirting with another woman all night?” The words escaped before she could stop them.
He set his beer down and moved directly into her personal space, close enough that she could smell him—motor oil and pine and something darker, richer. “There’s only one woman in this bar I’m interested in flirting with.” His voice dropped lower. “That nurse was not her.”
“She certainly seemed to like flirting with you.” Joy cringed inwardly at how petulant she sounded.
“Doesn’t change how I feel.” Bear’s eyes were intense, unwavering. “Doesn’t change that you’re the one I want to take into the woods.”
Heat pooled low in her belly. Joy tried to maintain her glare, despite the smile threatening to break through. “Fine. I’ll go. But if we get eaten by a bear, I’m blaming you.”
He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. His voice was a rough whisper that sent electricity racing through her veins.
“Sweetheart, I am the bear.”
Oh man, she was in trouble.