Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
May sat back in her chair, pleasantly full.
Rudolph had gone all out with thick steaks seared just right, the edges crisp and the centers tender, alongside sterling potatoes swimming in butter and herbs.
The scent of rosemary and garlic still hung in the air around their table, mixing with woodsmoke from the fireplace and the yeasty smell of beer.
She set her napkin on the table and let out a satisfied breath. “I think that was one of the best dinners I’ve had in a while.”
Ace leaned back, one arm draped over the back of his chair, watching her with that slow, pleased look that made him appear sexy and satisfied all at once. “Not as good as breakfast, though, right?”
She smiled. “Yeah, your breakfast was amazing.”
He caught her hand again, his thumb brushing across her knuckles. “Are you coming home with me tonight?”
“Well…” She hesitated. This all felt too right, and that was terrifying. “I don’t have electricity, so maybe?”
His green eyes warmed on hers. “You actually do have power, but I’d still like you to come home with me.”
She blinked. “My power is back on? Did you go by my place?”
“I did.”
That was fantastic. “I didn’t think it was supposed to be back on for a few days.”
“It’s not,” he said casually. “You’ve got a generator now.”
Her mouth actually fell open. “I don’t have a generator.”
“You do now.” He didn’t even flinch. “It’s hooked up. Automatic transfer switch and everything. When the power goes out, it flips on.”
“Ace.” She had to get his full attention.
He studied her. “What?”
“You can’t buy me a generator.”
“Why not?”
How could she explain this? “Because it’s too much.”
He shrugged, like they were discussing extra fries. “You needed one. Now you’ve got one.”
“No. No, that’s not how this works.”
“Too late,” he said mildly. “I hooked it up a couple hours ago.”
She gulped. “You can just unhook it right now.”
“No.” His face was completely impassive, almost serene.
She stared at him. “Well then, I’ll pay you for it.”
“Absolutely not.”
Installing a new generator took time and talent. That was kind. Even so, they’d just started dating. In fact, this was their first actual date. “Now listen—”
“Nope.” He glanced at his watch, then across the room where his brothers were still gathered near the fire. Damian was slipping papers back into his briefcase and standing to leave. “Give me a sec, will you?” Ace pushed back his chair and stood. “I need to talk to D.”
“We’re not done arguing about this,” she called after him.
“If you say so.” He kept going toward the fireplace.
She narrowed her eyes at his retreating back.
The tavern had shifted into its evening rhythm.
The dinner crowd was thinning, a few tables lingering over drinks.
Someone fed another log into the fireplace, and the flames flared, painting the stone in amber light.
Daisy wove between tables with a tray balanced on one hand, laughing at something a couple of fishermen said.
May stood and walked over to the bar, where Amka worked. “Give me the bill, would you?”
Amka shook her head. “I’m sorry. He already paid it.”
May stared at her. “Are you kidding me?”
“No.” Amka leaned in, studying her face. “Is that bad, for some reason?”
“Yes, it’s bad,” May hissed. “He bought me a generator.”
Amka’s brows shot up. “That bastard.”
May huffed. “That’s not funny.”
“Huh.” Amka’s lips twitched. “Some women get flowers. Some get a generator.”
“Amka.” May swatted lightly at her arm.
Amka grinned. “Seriously. You must be really good.”
“Oh yeah?” May shot back. “You want to play?”
Amka snorted. “What are you going to do?”
May’s gaze slid past her to where Christian sat with Brock and Ophelia. He was halfway through a conversation, his posture relaxed but alert like always. “Hey, Christian?” she called out sweetly.
Amka’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”
“Amka really needs to rest,” May projected just enough. “She hasn’t sat down in hours.”
“Okay, first of all—” Amka started.
Christian was already on his feet.
“May,” Amka warned.
“Doctor’s orders,” May added, trying not to laugh.
Christian crossed the room in three long strides and scooped Amka up before she could dodge him, right over the bar, one arm under her knees, the other braced at her back.
“Tell him I’m fine,” Amka called from somewhere near his shoulder, slapping at his chest.
May hadn’t realized he’d move so quickly. “Christian, she really is okay. I’m just messing with her.”
“She can take a break anyway,” he said calmly.
“Dinner crowd’s thinning, and I just got called out for a quick job for the troopers.
So, she’s resting now.” He carried her back to the table by the fire and dropped into his chair, settling her securely on his lap like she weighed nothing.
Brock shook his head. Ophelia looked delighted.
May felt a flicker of guilt. She wasn’t acting very professionally, but Amka had started it.
Across the room, Kyle sat with Peter and Jack, nursing drinks and pretending not to watch. Kyle had sent a couple of looks her way while she’d been eating with Ace, but she’d ignored him. The man didn’t get to claim her discomfort anymore.
She retook her seat at the table, waiting for Ace to return so they could argue some more about the generator.
Mick Thompson drifted past her table, cue stick balanced over his shoulder, his bandaged hand cradled securely against his chest. His brothers were loud on the far side of the room, locked in a rowdy pool game with a couple of tourists who clearly had no idea what they’d gotten themselves into.
“I guess you do date,” Mick said, slowing just enough to grin at her.
“Yeah,” May replied evenly. “I’m selective. How’s the hand?”
“It’s pretty good. Hurts a little, but I’m wearing a bag on it tomorrow. I promise.”
She did appreciate when a patient actually listened to her advice. “Good. I hope you manage to make it through the day tomorrow without getting injured.”
“God, so do I,” he muttered, already angling toward the bar. “The way Greg’s drinking, he’s not even gonna make it tomorrow. See you, Doc.”
The tavern hadn’t quieted so much as shifted. Dinner plates were gone, and the night crowd had settled in. Laughter rose near the dart boards, glasses clinked, and the fire in the hearth burned lower and steadier now, throwing long shadows across the floor.
Ivy emerged from the restroom, standing by May for half a second. She’d come in earlier with a cluster of friends, all loud and bright and already tipsy from prefunking, according to the spirited nurse. “It’s so fun to see you and Ace on a date,” she whispered, eyes sparkling.
“Thanks,” May whispered back. “I guess we’re not keeping it a secret.”
“Not in this town,” Ivy said dryly. She waved at Jack across the room, and he waved back. She then grabbed two margaritas from the bar before heading toward the dart boards where her friends were already arguing about rules with the flannel-wearing Thompson brothers.
May stiffened as Kyle and his entourage stood and headed her way, just as the door opened and Lance walked inside, wearing ripped jeans and thick boots. He caught sight of her and moved her way. “Hey, Doc.”
She frowned. “Lance? You can’t be in a bar. You’re not twenty-one yet.”
“Bruh.” He looked around. “They serve food here, so I can be here.”
She lowered her chin. “Only in the daytime.”
“Whatevs.” He glanced at his phone as Kyle approached. “You ready, dudes?”
Kyle paused. “Ah, sure. Dude.” He gave May his patented campaign smile. “We’re going night fishing until morning at a pond called McDougals.”
“McDucks,” Lance corrected. “I’m assisting my uncle Dirk since he’s taking charters again.”
May smiled. “I’m so glad.” Dirk had suffered a heart attack earlier in the year but was in much better health now, and he’d been cleared to pilot his plane again, which had made him so much happier. “Have a good time. I’ve heard the fish are really hopping at night.”
Jack quirked his lip. “I don’t see why they jump any better at night than the day, considering it’s light outside.”
Lance scratched his elbow. “They do, man. I think their internal clocks don’t know how light it is outside. I promise you’re gonna love it.” He turned toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Doc.” Peter and Jack started to follow him.
Kyle waited. “Would you like to join us?”
“Not in a million years,” she said evenly.
He sighed and turned, following the other men outside.
She unclenched her jaw. When were they leaving town for good, anyway? They had to have the pictures they needed by now. She took another sip of her water, reminding herself to stay hydrated.
The door opened. Cold air swept across the floor, carrying the scent of damp earth and something metallic. May looked up automatically.
Brad Connor stumbled inside.
She winced.
He was in his late twenties, though tonight he looked older.
Greasy blond hair hung in his eyes, and his goatee was patchy and untrimmed.
His clothes were dusty and rumpled, like he’d slept in them, and his boots were caked in dried mud.
He stood just inside the doorway for a second, blinking against the light, his movements jerky.
Then he saw her and made a beeline for her table.
“Hey, Brad.” May set her napkin down and pushed her chair back. “How are you feeling? You okay?”
“No.” Scabs showed across his chin. “I’m hurting real bad. My back’s killing me.”
Up close, the signs were impossible to miss. His pupils were blown wide. His head jerked every few seconds, like a glitch in a feed. His jaw clenched and unclenched.
“I can’t give you anything,” she said quietly.
“Yes, you can.” He stepped closer. “I’m in real pain, Doc. You’ve got to help me.”
She stood instinctively, putting the table between them without making it obvious. The guy was big. “What have you been taking?”
He twitched. “Nothing. I swear. I haven’t taken anything.”