Chapter Two – Man Down
Chapter Two
Beckett
MAN DOWN
Performed by Kelsey Hart
ELEVEN YEARS AGO
HIM: How about Island of Doctor Moreau?
HER: Yuck. No. I need something lighter.
HIM: I’ve suggested a dozen books. You’re up to bat.
HER: You don’t want to read what I do these days.
HIM: I absolutely can’t read porn with you, Maise.
HER: Romance books aren’t porn.
HIM: So why do you hide them from your dad?
HER: Because he turned purple when he saw the cover of my last one. I’m saving him from having a heart attack.
HIM: How about a bet? If you can show the romance book to your dad without blushing, I’ll read it with you.
HER: I don’t bet.
HIM: Bawk. Bawk. Bawk.
PRESENT DAY
I shouldered and elbowed a path through the Saturday night throng, propelling Maisey with me before she could back out.
The throng of people meant she was practically pressed up against me, and the scent of her washed over me.
She smelled light and airy, as always, like the water lilies on the pond near our childhood homes.
A smell I would forever associate with comfort.
With home and acceptance and friendship.
Next to Maisey was where I always felt settled. At peace.
The two of us were more than friends and neighbors who’d seen each other through tough times. We were all but family.
And tonight, my job as her family was to ensure she let loose and had some fun that didn’t involve a book. She wasn’t escaping Frank’s without a few drinks and some laughter.
While the rest of Swift Rivers had traded its rough edges for a bit of shine, Frank’s had stayed true to its roots as a hometown dive, where everyone knew each other and nobody minded the scuffs on the floor.
The river-rock walls and oak-beamed ceiling carried the weight of a thousand stories, and the hand-carved chairs and nicked-up tables had seen generations of laughter, spilled drinks, and long nights.
Aside from the modern touches—some updated wiring, a tin-tile backsplash that caught the light, and a few TVs humming in the corners—Frank’s was still the heart of the town’s nightlife.
“I come delivering your pinch hitter, ladies,” I said to her friends as we made it to the cowhide-covered stools we’d commandeered at the back of the bar.
Fallon rose and hugged her friend.
The two women were as different as night and day.
With a vivacious attitude and flashing hazel eyes, Fallon was a striking blonde who commanded a room just by walking into it.
She was a lightning bolt, while Maisey was the rolling thunder that accompanied it.
Maisey’s brown-haired beauty snuck up on you, slowly surrounding you and lingering in ways that a sudden burst of light never could.
The women had been friends for as long as I’d known Maisey, helping each other through traumas that teenagers and young adults should never have to go through. Or at least helping each other as much as two independent people would allow anyone to help them.
“We had a bet, Wife, and you’re altering the terms with this last-minute team change,” Parker said, eyeing Fallon with a smirk.
Even though he was retired, the dark-haired former Navy SEAL—with his broad shoulders and calm disposition—still had a look that screamed special forces.
Sweeney, his mammoth-sized business partner sitting a couple of stools down, had the same unmistakable vibe.
Fallon stuck her tongue out at her husband. “You’re just afraid I’ll win.”
“Let them bring in Maisey. The sweet little thing only adds to the challenge,” Sweeney said, winking at the woman standing next to me and patting the empty stool on his far side.
“I call dibs on her sitting next to me. It’s been far too long since her sunshiny light has graced me with its beautiful presence. ”
It was far from the first time the black-haired, dark-skinned Hulk had flirted with Maisey in my presence. I swore, he almost made a game of it, each time hoping it would be the time she took a bite, so I wasn’t sure why his words brought a bad taste to my mouth tonight.
I glanced down at Maisey to see a blush coating her cheeks.
Her yellow sundress was glimmering around her like sunrays, and the ethereal glow turned her into exactly the magnificent, avenging angel I’d always considered her to be.
Strong and brave and ready to champion others.
Like a fierce blow to the chest, it hit me just how right Sweeney was.
She was one of the most stunning women I’d ever met, more so because her beauty radiated from the inside out.
“She’s fine right here,” I growled, practically shoving her onto a stool next to the one I’d been sitting on all night.
“I guess I can’t really complain about the change in players,” Parker said with a heated look directed at his wife. “Either way the cards fall, I’ll still be the luckiest man here tonight.”
Sweeney choked on his beer, and the woman sitting between him and Parker laughed.
Fallon’s hotel manager, Andie, was always a bit too buttoned up for my taste—too tailored, too precise, too everything.
Her deep-copper hair was always twisted into a tidy bun, and she clung to business attire like it was armor.
Even on a Saturday night, she’d shown up in tailored gray pants and a sky-blue silk blouse, both so crisp they looked fresh from the dry-cleaning bag.
Yet somehow, that prim-and-polished image had the men under my command lining up to ask her out.
As far as I knew, she hadn’t said yes to any of them, or anyone else, since she’d moved to Rivers.
“What can I get you, Maise?” I asked as Dee, the bartender, headed in our direction.
“Just iced tea, please.”
“No. Absolutely not,” I said, shaking my head. “You just worked an obscene number of days in a row. You need to blow off some steam.”
“I might have to go in tomorrow, so I need a clear head.”
Irritation with Meredith filled me. After three years, she still had Maisey rotating around departments, covering all the empty holes and gaps. But the one time I’d told Maisey she was being taken advantage of again, she’d bit my head off and told me to mind my own business.
Truth was, Maisey was perfectly capable of fighting for herself. I’d seen her do it, but it would take being trampled nearly to death before she’d take the stand. It was her nature to help first. To make everyone else’s lives easier, regardless of what it did to her own.
“You need at least one shot to even the odds,” I insisted, waving a hand between her and the group. “We’ve all had a couple. Your clear mind would give you an unfair advantage.”
Maisey tugged at a tendril of hair.
I didn’t wait for her to argue more. I simply ordered the group a round of tequila shots that Dee delivered with lime and salt.
When Maisey’s tongue darted out to lick her hand before tossing back the shot, heat hit my gut, and visions of pulling her to me and replacing her tongue with my own filled me.
And that was just all sorts of wrong. I didn’t think of Maisey that way. Not ever.
It had to be the alcohol making me see and think things I shouldn’t. The alcohol and the long-assed time it had been since I’d had sex.
One thing was certain—kissing Maisey was not in the cards.
She was my best friend and nothing more. I wouldn’t sacrifice what we had for a night of pleasure that wouldn’t last beyond a few hours. I wouldn’t risk Maisey for anything. She was one of the best things in my life, just as she was.
When the trivia game resumed, I was grateful to replace tormenting thoughts of kissing my friend with smack talk, as the three of us testosterone-driven men battled it out with the three whip-smart women.
We’d purposefully broken up the seating in guy-girl order so that we couldn’t share answers with our teammates.
It left me with Fallon on one side, Maisey on the other, and an empty stool beside her.
As the night progressed, that empty seat became my nemesis.
Several of the firefighters in my crew and a handful of other single men in town stopped by, using the stool as a perch to do their flirting with the women.
One scowl from Parker had the guys leaving Fallon alone.
And sandwiched as she was between two He-men and with her rejection-prone reputation following her, Andie only received a few shallowly placed offers, which left Maisey open to the remainder of the shots.
Our newest recruit, Leon, was one of the first, stammering out, “H-hey, Maisey. You sure look pretty tonight.”
The bad taste I’d had with Sweeney complimenting Maisey returned.
I was about to give him a huge setdown and send him on his way, but all it took was one quiet, “Thanks, you look good tonight too, Leon,” from Maisey to send him running for the back with his pale skin turning the same color as his carrot-red hair.
It was Tejas who caused the most problems as he slid up to the bar to order a drink.
My second-in-command was dark-haired, tan-skinned, and had a reputation as the most charming firefighter at the station.
He had a wide mouth that never shut up, earning him the Motor-mouth nickname with the crew, but he was also famous for popping out smooth lines that had women dropping their panties right into his hand.
“Maisey, it’s been far too long since you’ve been out,” Tejas said, leaning into her space.
Maisey didn’t notice. She was more focused on the trivia question on the screen above the bar than on Tejas as she responded. “I’ve been working extra shifts, covering for staff brought down by that summer cold winging through town.”
“Sounds like you’re long overdue for a good time,” he said, voice dropping low. “I know how to deliver a good time.”
I envisioned pushing him off his stool and barely stopped myself before biting out, “Back off, Motor-mouth. Maisey is here to spend time with friends, not get laid.”