Chapter Three
Nikki
Mulligan is a tall and lanky man with a handlebar mustache that reminds me of a cartoon villain.
I wonder if cartoon villains wear cheap cologne too.
Given the money he’s about to drop on the lake houses’ sale, you’d think the man could afford something that doesn’t smell like an overpowering blast of car air freshener.
Then again, maybe he spends every dime on real estate and has none left for anything else.
I swirl the ice in my water glass as I lean in, trying to look interested in the details of the conversation he’s started on World War II.
Apparently, the U.S. Army had a plan to use bats as weapons by attaching explosives to them.
I zoned out for so long I’m not sure if he’s talking about baseball bats or flying rodents. Both would be equally stupid.
I have to say, I’ve never been more disinterested in a conversation in my entire life, except for maybe ninth grade history where the teacher droned on for hours about the rise and fall of the Roman empire.
That said, he often flipped into tales of mythology when he was teaching, which I was interested in occasionally.
So congrats, Mulligan. This conversation is the worst in human history.
For goodness’ sake, I think the people at the table next to us are second-hand bored.
They’ve glanced over multiple times, and I know the look of a person when they’re silently judging.
I use it daily myself. It’s one of those passed down, small-town gifts.
Before you realize you’re doing it, you’ve got the eyebrow audit move down better than your grandma ever did.
It’s nice to see growth amongst generations.
“Anyway,” he takes a sip of the IPA he’s barely touched, “I’m glad you decided to have dinner with me. I’m sorry if I came off wrong the other day. Pretty girls make me nervous.”
The acrid taste of bile swirls in my throat and the urge to stand and throw my water in his face overwhelms me. Maybe he’s forgotten that I only agreed to this dinner because he called my father to tattle on me.
I grip my glass tighter, the cold condensation gathering on my palm.
You’re here to make a sale, Nikki. It’s one dinner. One single dinner. That’s all.
“Sure,” I manage, forcing a grin. “I enjoy meeting with clients to talk about investment opportunities. The properties you’re signing for tomorrow at the lake are premier investments.
We typically have sold out rentals in the area from May to November.
Then we see another spike in December and January.
Plus, with all the renovations the guys over at Combat Craftsman did, you’re getting a fantastic deal. ”
Mulligan takes another sip of Alpine Ale and leans in. “You don’t need to sell me on the property anymore, sweetheart. I’m signing for it tomorrow. You’ve done your job. I’m here for you and that gorgeous face.”
Oh God.
He reaches his hand across the table, his poisonous caterpillar brows narrowing inward. “I thought I made it clear this was more than business. I’d like to get to know you better, take my time with you.”
Gross! Ugh, the way he just said that makes me want to vomit!
I tug my hand away quickly, my skin still crawling from his soft, clammy grip as Reed grabs the guy by the back of his jacket and pulls him up out of his chair.
Reed?
My heart swells and thumps hard against the cage in my chest. I didn’t even realize Reed was here yet. In fact, I was starting to think he wasn’t coming. Then again, I didn’t really need this level of intervention just because Mulligan’s hand touched me.
I thought Reed was here more as back up or moral support. Not as a combat trained Doberman with an inner rage he never learned how to control.
The couple next to me must feel the same way, because they’re full-on jaw to the ground, side-eye supreme. Can’t blame them. Lord knows I’d be staring too.
I stand from my chair, face hot, chest tight as I stare up at the giant man whose voice makes my pussy pulse. “What are you doing?”
“He touched you,” Reed groans, dragging Mulligan toward the door like we’re not in the fanciest restaurant in town, surrounded by a room full of people that will be telling this story to every neighbor they have. “He shouldn’t be touching you.”
Good Lord, I should’ve known better than to ask this man for help. I’m never going to hear the end of this.
Mulligan’s eyes widen as though he’s being assaulted by King Kong. Truthfully, he may as well be. The size difference between the two men is stark. I’d be afraid if I were him too. Some big man, walking into the restaurant, yanking me up from the table… I’d meltdown immediately.
“Okay,” I press my hand against Reed’s solid chest as we step out onto the golden hued sidewalk, “he gets it. Put him down.”
“Who is this monkey?” Mulligan groans, flailing his long thin arms back and forth as though he’s trying to squirm free.
If I had to guess, I’d say Mulligan is in his late fifties. Old enough to have picked up a few fighting skills. This is sort of pathetic. Then again, I do tend to judge men a lot on whether they can handle themselves or not.
“I’m the guy that’s going to end your fucking life,” Reed grunts, dragging the man down the street like a rag doll, his biceps flexing as he moves his potential victim.
This should not turn me on.
I clear my throat and follow behind, begging him to let the man go, my heart pounding, my face flushing, my panties dampening with every step.
He weaves in and out of the busier than usual street where tourists are lined in front of nearly every restaurant and shop we have thanks to the lumberjack games. Most shop owners are in heaven right now with the influx of business.
And here we are, putting on a show!
“You’re making a scene!” I say, jogging up next to the giant. “Let him go! He gets it, right?” I glance toward Mulligan who’s given up the fight. “You get it?”
“No, actually. I don’t get it. Why are you doing this?”
Reed stops at the end of the street and laughs, straightening the man to a standing position, though his big, rough hands are still curled into his jacket. “You shouldn’t have touched her.”
“And you’re her keeper?” He glances back toward me as though I’m going to have an answer.
“Yeah,” Reed laughs. “Look at this guy. He’s a quick study.”
A family of four has stopped in the middle of the street, ice cream cones in hand while they stare. The oldest kid, a boy who I don’t recognize as local, holds up his cell phone, as though he’s capturing a bear attack in the wild.
“Please stop. You’re making a scene.”
“I’m not making a scene,” Reed growls, dragging the man toward the end of the street. “I’m teaching an asshole a lesson.”
This is the kind of stuff that makes folks think the mountains are chocked full of rednecks and hillbillies.
Not the good kind with practical know-how, hardworking grit, and a loyalty like no other, although, I guess some could say this current act is an act of loyalty despite reading like barbaric impulse.
Finally, Reed’s fists release their grip as he shoves the man into the brick wall of the diner in one last act of mockery. “Leave.”
Mulligan brushes off his jacket as he backs away from the imposing giant whose broad shoulders are still coiled with tension.
Finally, he glances toward me. “The deal is off.”
Of course, the deal is off. Why wouldn’t it be?
“No, Mr. Mulligan. I apologize for my friend here. He thinks he’s helping but—”
Reeds hand grips mine. “It’s for the best.”
“What?” I twist back toward him. “Clint is going to lose it. You care what he thinks, right? And my dad… this is the biggest sale I’ve ever made. We’re set to make a huge return.”
“We… or him?” Reed stands firm and crosses his big, inked arms over his chest.
Oh my God. I roll my eyes and ignore him in favor of trying to save the deal I’ve just blown up, but Mulligan is long gone.
Can’t say I blame him.
“I’m so screwed.” I lean against the brick wall and rest my head as I stare up at the pink and orange sky.
It’s after seven o’clock, but it stays light until late this time of year.
If it were a tad darker, maybe no one would’ve seen our faces.
Now, I’m pretty sure we’re going to be on every social media site known to man.
At this point, I’d wager to guess even a few intergalactic ones.
“It’ll be fine. The lake houses are in great shape and there’s constant demand. We’ll find another buyer.”
“We,” I laugh, “or me? Last I checked, you weren’t the one on the front lines here.”
“If you need help finding a buyer, I’ll ask around too.”
I love the way he makes everything sound so simple. It’s like he’s a master at everything and just moonlights as a guy who screwed this whole thing up.
Reed steps forward, his giant frame towering over me, the scent of pine and cedar emanating off him. “I’m sorry, kitten, but I don’t like it when men touch you. It makes me crazy.”
I don’t know how many words he just said, but by the time his sentence is finished, my muscles are loose, my breathing has slowed, and my body has shifted into the safe, parasympathetic state I’m usually in when he’s around.
“I appreciate that, but I have to go find Mulligan. I can’t lose this sale.” I stare up at him a moment longer before turning toward my car parked on the opposite side of the busy street.
Thankfully, we’re no longer the center of attention, a pair of elk moving in from the far pasture to graze on the side of the road are.
It’s actually kind of majestic. There’s a bull elk and a single female grazing with the sun on their backs.
I’ve lived up here the better part of my life, but I never tire of seeing nature up close like this.
“Not a chance.” Reed grips the back of my arm and holds me in place. “You’re not chasing some asshole down and begging him for anything. You’re better than that.”
“Am I?” I twist back quickly, my hair flying to the side in the evening summer breeze.
“Every other realtor on the team is selling places left and right. Brenda has sold fourteen houses so far this year. Tim, has sold twenty.” I pause for dramatic effect.
“I have five, Reed. If Mulligan pulls out of the lake house sales, I have two. Two sales. Oh, and one is your house, which I haven’t technically sold yet. ”
“Maybe that’s because you’re doing something you’re not meant to be doing.
” He shifts forward, his hand on my shoulder.
“Your talent is in photography. Let me help you turn it into a business. You could sell your artwork at the market and take new portraits in your free time. Make it work for you.” He smiles.
“There’s demand everywhere. Clint was telling me he and—”
“I’m a realtor, Reed. I sell houses. Taking pictures is a hobby. The same way I love baking cupcakes and sewing little skirts. None of those things are jobs. They’re just for fun.”
My phone buzzes in my purse and my chest tightens. I’m sure it’s my father, and I don’t know what I’m going to say to him.
“You’re far more than whatever it is your father wants you to be, kitten. You’re sweet and creative, and you have a real talent for taking pictures. I wouldn’t steer you wrong.”
Despite everything that just happened, why do I want to fall into his arms? Why do I want him to carry me back to his place and hold me all night while I pretend this day never happened? I should be pissed. Protective is one thing, but he’s gone too far.
And yet… I’m over here wondering which way is the quickest to his bedroom.
My phone rings again. This time, I pull it out of my purse to check the screen.
“I’ll talk to him.” Reed’s calloused fingertips brush my wrist.
Usually, the slightest touch of his body against mine comforts me. Right now, though, the world is spinning and my knees feel weak.
What the hell?
I reach toward Reed to steady myself, but I tip forward and land against his solid chest like my body had been planning the move all day.
“You’re having a panic attack again, aren’t you?”
I nod slowly, my thoughts racing with the various forms of punishment my father could dole out given that I’ve lost his biggest sale of the year.
Last year he held my pay for months because I lost a much smaller one.
I want to leave, but I still depend on him for so much.
That and there’s a lot of invisible pressure to follow in his footsteps.
So much that I could probably spend years in therapy, and I still wouldn’t fully understand it all.
I’m midway through circling a thought when I feel Reed’s giant arms wrap around my waist and lift me from the ground. My hands reach for his shoulders as the center of gravity moves to my chest.
God, I feel safe here.
“Where are we going?” My voice is nearly a whisper.
“You’re coming up to the cabin with me tonight. You can see all the work I’ve done, and I can keep an eye on you.”
“Really, I’m okay.” My mouth is dry, my heart is pounding, and I know I’m not okay, but I don’t want to be alone with Reed. When I’m alone with Reed, weird things happen to my body.
“Then you’ll be even more okay at the cabin.” He clicks the unlock button on his keys as he carries me toward his truck. “I’ll bring you back to your car come morning.”
I’m not sure if I’m appreciative of this or if I’m frustrated.
I’m not sure if I’m glad he dragged Mulligan out of the restaurant or if I’m humiliated and pissed.
I’m not sure if I want to be alone right now or if I want to lose myself in his cabin imagining the life together we’ll most definitely never have.
All I do know is that every flex of his forearm is taunting me, and my panties are sopping wet.