Finding Alfred (Foggy Basin Season Two)

1. Chapter 1

Chapter one

So many people came out to Book Beans and Buns to help decorate the store for Christmas, it was nearly surreal.

It had never been a tradition, and Brock’s pops had never done it.

I doubted seriously that Brock would have done it either, if it wasn’t for Eddy.

Brock would have told Evelyn, who asked him to decorate the store, to fuck right off, but his new husband, Eddy, had softened my cranky friend.

So much so that he wasn’t even the slightest bit cranky anymore.

He was fucking happy all the time. And honestly, I loved it.

He was my brother in everything but blood, and I enjoyed seeing his happiness.

I spent the last hour circling around Alfred, Eddy’s employee, thinking he hated me.

Or regretted me. He wouldn’t even fucking look at me.

Despite my best efforts, we hadn’t kept in touch after our hook-up at Brock and Eddy’s wedding.

I texted occasionally, but he never answered like I wished he would.

But then Brock said he’d caught Alfred watching me when I wasn’t looking, and…

Alfred slowly rolled the tinted glass down, showing more and more of his lovely face.

He had a goatee, which nicely accentuated his looks rather than a beard that would have covered up his chiseled jaw.

He wore a pair of sunglasses, which made me want to see his hazel eyes again.

And kiss those perfectly molded lips one more time.

And what I said was, “Uh, hey. Al. Um…leaving already?” Suave was normally my middle name, but not while staring at him.

I had a way with words. Hell, I made my living from writing a blog and sometimes other online magazine articles.

But Alfred reduced me to a stuttering fool.

I imagined myself like a cartoon dog with my mouth falling open, jaw on the ground, and tongue lolling about.

Oh yeah, and hearts popping out of my eyes.

“I have to get back. You know, work.”

“You can’t stay for maybe dinner? I mean, I’d like to take you to dinner. Or something.”

He smashed his lips together as if he were thinking about it, which was at least something. “I, uh, really can’t. Not this time.”

“Can I call you?” Yep. I’d also tried to call but he never answered or returned any of my attempts. I probably should have taken the hint, but he was so sexy and fun, and I didn’t want our time together to end. Not that we were together.

“Jackie…” he sighed. He literally fucking sighed. “I’m really busy with work. And…”

“That’s kind of bullshit. I know your boss, right? He wouldn’t ever, not ever, make you work this hard. So hard that you can’t even go out to dinner or return a phone call.” I leaned in, challenging him. I wanted him off his game. I wanted him undone beneath me and moving frantically.

Alfred scoffed, “You’re just so sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Huh? Yeah?” And I was the one who lost the plot, instead of him.

He shook his head. “I have to go. Sorry.” He rolled the window up, probably wishing the damn thing would move faster. Then he backed out of the parking spot and drove away.

Fuck him.

I didn’t need that shit. I really didn’t. Driving down to Sacramento to find someone to hook up with wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities for me. I had fuck buddies there. I didn’t need Alfred Burke and his attitude.

But damn, I sure wanted him.

Later that night, I scrolled through Instagram.

Okay, I scrolled through his Instagram profile.

He’d already posted pics from the Books Beans and Buns holiday decorating party.

His coffee, some of the décor, and…several of me.

Taken from a distance or angle that screamed I hadn’t known he’d taken them or was even looking at him.

In fact, I was probably looking for him in each one of them.

I admit, there were plenty of Brock and Eddy, and even Evelyn and some of the others, but the ones of me were… special. Secretive.

And what the fuck? He labeled them all, “Jackie Corbin, Brock’s friend.”

That’s who I was to him? Brock’s friend. Well, I mean, I was, but I wanted to be more to him than that. And why the fuck did I care so much? Maybe seeing Brock get all cozy and domestic with Eddy left me wanting more than a fuck buddy.

I had a decent life, though. Didn’t I? I did whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted.

I didn’t answer to a boss. I’d made my own way, doing what I loved.

And I got to hang out at the old town bookstore all the time.

Even though Brock got married, I still saw him a lot.

Honestly, I loved Eddy for him; they worked.

And I lived in my own house. One that I owned, not the bank.

It had been a family home, inherited, but still.

It was all mine. Everything was great. Right?

Yeah. So why was I still the joker, the prankster, the one cutting up? And no one wanted me for anything more. Pretty sure the whole town disliked me, still merely putting up with my shit. Wasn’t I built for more than that? Didn’t I deserve more than that?