Chapter Four
Puma pushed through the door into Crazy Shades, pausing to let his gaze adjust to the darker interior. He recognized a few regulars, but no one paid attention as he strode over and grabbed a stool.
Sitting at the bar brought back a lot of memories for him. He used to come here with his dad back when it wasn’t taboo for kids to be in bars. He’d sit at the same polished counter while his dad enjoyed a draft and Puma a milkshake. He’d listen to Rory LeGuard and Storm chat for hours.
“I’ll be with you in a minute.” He scanned the nearly empty bar, searching for the owner of the familiar voice. His heart raced, bouncing around in his chest. Then he saw her. She came from the kitchen carrying a big box that blocked her view.
He swallowed hard, anticipating the moment she saw him. It didn’t come soon, though, because once she set the box down on the floor, she rummaged inside, took out the whiskey bottles, and stacked them neatly on the glass shelf.
This wasn’t just any woman. This was his wife. Hard to believe they’d been married for a third of his life and hated each other just about that long.
Her back was to him, so he couldn’t see her face. But her hair, which had once been so long it touched her waist, was now cut to just below her shoulders and darker in color—a black cherry color. Every time she bent over, the thick fringe of her cut-off shorts lifted higher on her bottom.
Puma tilted his head and focused his full attention on her. He’d thought about her off and on for the last ten years, but nothing could have prepared him for the emotions that shimmied through him when he saw her again.
“What can I get you?” She swiped her hands together and turned, still not looking at him.
“Is a divorce on the menu?” he said low enough for only her to hear.
She snapped her head up, and her blue eyes narrowed on him like ice-blue lasers full of heat. She was even more beautiful than when he’d fallen in love with her. Her soft, shiny hair lay over her bare shoulders like a satin blanket, with chunky streaks of red. A tiny silver hoop glistened from her nostril. He skimmed her long, toned legs down to the cowgirl boots.
His dick stood to attention. Good to see his body still worked.
“What are you doing here?” Her attitude rolled off her in a wave of loathing.
“I’m sure by now you’ve been informed that I’m back in town.”
“I’m asking why you’re in my bar?”
“It’s open to the public, right?” He pushed back with an attitude of his own.
“Public is a term used loosely. I reserve the right to serve who I want.” She cocked her head a few inches to the side. “Even a toilet seat can only serve one asshole at a time.”
She hadn’t changed a bit, at least not in personality. She still had the attitude of a wired lead singer for a rock band. He’d been on the receiving end of her evil glares enough that he knew her bark was much worse than her bite. He remembered that she liked to bite, especially when she was coming.
“I’d like a draft beer,” he said calmly.
“I’m busy. The Basset House has a liquor license now and serves alcohol. I’m sure they’ll be glad to see you,” she said in a clipped tone. “If I remember correctly, Barbie, she owns it now, always thought you were bread and butter.”
He scanned the few patrons. No one had even bothered to play the jukebox. “Yeah, you’re so busy.”
“Too busy for you .” As if she needed to release some pent-up energy, she stomped on the empty box, crushing it under her boots. “Go visit some of your old acquaintances.”
“I’m not visiting, Bryar. I’m staying in Shades Cove. We’ll have to see each other at some point.”
“Maybe so, but not in my bar,” she said firmly.
Normally, he’d simply walk away. He disliked conflict, particularly with a black-haired ballbuster who took pleasure in getting under his skin. “You’re attracting the interest of your patrons, sweetheart. Can’t we handle this civilly?"
It was then that she must have realized they’d gained the attention of others because she placed her hands on the edge of the severely scratched and chipped bar, leaning in, taking her tone down a notch. “Let’s get something straight, shall we? Nothing between us will ever be civil. You made that choice ten years ago.” She raised a thin brow over her flaming blue eyes.
“Let’s agree to disagree.” He pushed through tight lips. There was a lot he wanted to say about the past, so many things that were left unspoken, but he refused to conjure up the demons that had taken him years to bury. If she wanted to think he walked away and forgot about everything they shared, then so be it.
She slapped her hands to her hips. “Excuse me?”
“You don’t really want to get into this, do you? So how about that drink?”
“Do I have a choice outside of having you removed?”
“You wouldn’t do that, would you? And who here could throw me out?”
Without a word, she spun and poured him a drink. She slapped the glass down in front of him. “Don’t choke on it.”
“Thank you. I’ll try my best.”
“You really have some nerve coming in here, knowing that if Daddy or Lane caught you, they’d grab the shotgun.”
“That’d be tough for Lane to do from prison. Your pa might have some energy left, but I hear he hasn’t worked at the bar for a while, not since his stroke.”
She blinked as if shocked that he knew the details. “You’ve been doing your homework.”
He tipped his head. “Lane called me.”
“From inside?” Creases developed around her eyes.
“Yeah, from inside. He asked me to come and visit you.”
“Wait. My brother, the one who hates you passionately asked you to come here?” Her cheeks flamed.
“He didn’t seem to hate me that much, especially after I sent him a supply of cigarettes and enough Reese’s Cups to last him for a year.”
She stared at him a minute, then crossed her arms over her chest, sending her small breasts up. “Why did he call and want you to come here?”
Although she didn’t have much up top, what she did have suited him just fine. He’d never been into big tits. She was petite and slender, but she was too thin, and that, with the dark circles under her eyes, told him she wasn’t eating or sleeping much. “How about you and I talk, in private.”
“Whatever you have to say just say it.”
He downed his beer, suddenly very thirsty. “How about another?”
With a sour expression, she poured another.
“You’re being awfully generous,” he said.
“It’s not on the house.”
He chuckled. Still fiery enough to sear the hair off his balls. He liked it.
“Start talking since you were so gung-ho to do so a minute ago,” she said with a sigh.
“Lane asked for a favor.” This time he sipped the frothy beer. He needed to keep his wits about him.
“I don’t believe you,” she said without apology.
“You haven’t even heard the favor.”
“I don’t need to.”
“Would I know about the trouble he caused with Reno unless he told me?”
Her nostrils flared. “What did Lane want?”
“To return the favor.”
“And what did you ever do for him?” She tilted her hip.
“Not me, sweetheart. A favor he owes you. He’s asked me to watch over you while he’s locked up.”
“Now, why would he do something like that?” One thin brow lifted over her sky-blue eyes.
“Could be one of several things. He got wind that I’m starting up a security business over at Storm Pass. He knows even with the shit between us he can trust me. And then there’s the small fact that you and I are still married. That makes you my responsibility.”
“Shh!” She glanced around to make sure none of the patrons were listening. “People around here have forgotten about that.”
“You really think they have?” He snapped his back straight. His intention of drinking slowly flew out the window. He downed his drink and wiped a hand over his lips.
“Why would Lane ask you something so ridiculous?” She completely ignored his question.
He leaned in, holding her gaze. “Reno isn’t one to fuck with, Bryar.”
She frowned. “I don’t have much of a choice. Anyway, I have it all under control.”
“Nothing is ever under control with a man like Reno unless he gets what he wants.”
She shrugged. “This is my business.”
“What did you—”
She cut him off. “You need another, Mickey?” she asked the silver-headed man at the end of the bar.
“I’m heading out, honey.” The man slapped down a few bills. “Keep the change, darlin’.” He stared at Puma for a good three heartbeats as if he might have recognized him, but then Mickey said, “Nice hat, feller.”
“Thanks,” Puma responded.
“You be careful out there, Mick. Zip that jacket. The rain’s coming,” Bryar said.
Once she had tucked the money into the register and placed Mickey’s glass into the sink, Puma wasted no time. “Explain to me how you have things under control?”
“Look, this isn’t your problem. Lane shouldn’t have dragged you into this.”
He could see the worry in her expression. “He wouldn’t have unless he felt you were in trouble.”
She snorted softly. “You’ve been back in Shades Cove for less than a week, and already you’re finding your way back into my business. Not this time.”
“Whether you like it or not, you are my business. And, whether you want to admit it or not, you may be in over your head.” He slid off the stool, pulled out a large bill, and dropped it onto the shellacked bar.
“Why do you care?”
He shrugged. “Who says I care?” The second the words were out, he wanted to fish them back. He didn’t think he’d ever stopped caring for her.
“Why are you here, Puma?” Her voice was barely audible as if he’d opened a door that let out strong emotion.
“I told you. Lane asked me to come.”
“I’m talking about in Shades Cove Why? This town isn’t big enough for the two of us.”
He smirked. “It better be because I’m not going anywhere. You and I need to talk. Work it out. Find some peace.” He swept his gaze around the bar. “In a more private setting. I’m sure you can still find your way to Storm Pass. I’ll see you after work.”
She sighed and shook her head. “What makes you think I’ll show up?”
He set his jaw. “Because I know you. Let’s keep this real, shall we?” He didn’t need this shit. Didn’t need to feel like one look from her and his heart raced like he’d just finished a mission. He also didn’t like all the memories being released from the deep recesses of his mind. It had taken him a long time to bury them.
“Still full of yourself, huh?”
“I’m confident in how much I know you.”
“Don’t bank on that.” She turned her attention to a man who stood at the jukebox. “Play something that’ll get this place livened up, Tommy.” Then she turned her back to Puma as if ending any further conversation.
Puma left the bar feeling like he might have made a grave mistake by coming off so self-assured.