Chapter Four
I stared at my phone after she all but hung up on me. “Fuck this,” I said to myself, shoving it in my pocket and grabbing my keys from the bowl on my coffee table.
One of the only perks about living on Main Street above my shop was that I could walk just about anywhere I needed. As a mechanic with a truck, a car, and a motorcycle, it felt excessive to own all three some days, but oh well.
It was a bitterly cold night, three days after a massive snowstorm. Grayish snow piled up to knee height lined the streets and salt crusted the sidewalk. Making my way to Tilly’s Tavern, I contrived my plan. I would find someone to be with tonight. By filling a woman’s void, I literally filled my own. Call me a red-blooded male, but sliding into a warm pussy made everything feel all right in the world. We all came out of a woman hoping to get back into another one our whole lives. It was a known fact, kind of like how food while camping always tasted better and nothing good ever happened after 2 AM. These were the untamed truths you didn’t get from Buddha.
Besides, I liked most women. There was a certain mystique only women could conjure—a distinct smell, a lightness in laughter. It was addictive. They were insightful and funny. They actually talked about things that mattered, unlike some of my guy friends. Sometimes I just needed to literally feel not so alone, like there was someone beside me, witnessing the same reality as me, breathing in the same air. Plus, the sex wasn’t a hardship. Were mornings a little lonely? Yeah. Did I wonder what it would be like to have the consistent aroma of a woman I loved on the sheets? Sure. But I just couldn’t say no to the quick yeses I got from tourists.
I tilted my neck to the side, letting the crack calm my nerves. The din of the tavern welcomed me along with a couple of townies. The bartender, Bronn, picked up a glass for my usual whiskey with raised brows. I nodded, silently confirming that was what I was drinking tonight.
Waiting for my drink, I looked over my shoulder. There was a gaggle of women chatting over wine. Ever since a lodge nearby had started offering weekend spa packages, more and more women tourists flocked here in deep winter. I scanned their shoulders for ribboned sashes, like what they’d wear at beauty pageants. Usually, sashes meant divorce or bachelorette parties. I’d learned they couldn’t stand to celebrate without accessories. The divorce parties had black sashes and were down for hate sex. The bachelorette parties had hot pink or white and were usually more competitive, so you got the potential of a threesome. They unknowingly color-coded themselves for me.
Without a sash in sight, I continued inspecting my options. All eight or so women blended in a mass of pastel-blue crew neck sweaters with something cheesy scrawled across the chests. Ah, so they’d elevated from sashes to sweaters, fucking fantastic. I was sure they were keeping some Etsy shop in Iowa in business with this embroidered bullshit.
One woman in particular caught my attention. She seated herself in the center of the semicircle booth, ensuring all eyes were on her. She had dark hair at the roots that morphed to brownish blonde at the ends that I’d seen on other women. I’d been told it was called ombré. As a guy, I didn’t really get it, but I could tell she’d curled it in a way that must take skill, so I’d give her props for that.
She forced her laugh, making it extra loud along with how she threw her head back. A few other women, more even-keeled, sat toward the edges of the booth, watching her with either annoyance or envy. I didn’t care. My sight was set. A couple more seconds confirmed her ring finger was empty and it was time for liftoff. As I got closer to their table, their conversation quieted.
“Excuse me, miss. I couldn’t help but notice you're having the time of your life.”
Her hand flew to her chest as she looked around at her friends in amusement before answering, “I am having the time of my life.”
“Care to make it better? I’d love to buy you a drink at the bar.”
“Um, sure.”
Enjoying their eyes on me, I remembered my manners. “That is, of course, if you ladies are okay with me stealing your friend for a bit?”
The other women bobbed their heads with airy agreements. The one next to her shooed her by tapping her hip. Three of her friends had to get out of the booth to free her, but I stood there, waiting to take her hand to help her stand, knowing damn well I’d just started some silent reverb of gossip that would fuel her ego for the foreseeable future.
“I’m Dane, by the way.”
“Cami,” she said breathlessly.
As we walked away, the murmurs of her friends made her smile. Once at the bar, she ordered a Moscow Mule as I took off my jacket and pushed up the sleeves of my thermal.
“Wow! Oh my gosh, I love your tattoos.” She ran a nail up the black-and-gray scissors and roses just below my elbow, not bothering to ask me what they symbolized. “Do you have a lot?”
I held up my other arm and then tugged at my neckline. “Yeah, covered. Well, not entirely. Maybe you’ll see what I mean.” I winked at her, bringing my whiskey to my lips.
A half hour later, she was leaning into whisper, “I leave tomorrow. I’ve always wanted to hook up on vacation. Wanna fuck?”
“Yeah, I live just down the street.” I rubbed her back. “I’ve been tested recently. You’re clean and single, right? No surprises?”
She nodded, twirling her hair. “No surprises.”
“Well, then let’s go have some fun.”
She leaned in again and whispered in a baby voice, “I want you to gag me with your big cock, Daddy.”
What the actual fuck?
I couldn’t be limper if I tried. I never wanted to shame anyone, but baby talk grossed me out. Pairing that with the whole daddy thing gave me the biggest ick. To spring that on a stranger seemed extreme, even for me.
Completely at a loss, but not wanting to embarrass her, all I could say was, “Oh yeah?”
Her flat eyes drifted to my lips as she traced them with a fingertip. “Yeah, and I want you to call me filthy names.”
I leaned in closer, moving some hair off her shoulder. “Only if you live up to them.” I gently pulled her face to mine for a kiss, immediately comparing her lips to the last person’s I’d felt. This wasn’t as electric or consuming as kissing Maisie. My mind didn’t melt away the second we touched. The world didn’t go silent with only the low thud of my own pulse. Instead, it was a hollow, transactional moment I’d easily forget. Sure, Cami was sexy and fun, but she wasn’t my Maisie.
She let out a little coo of pleasure when I stopped kissing her, a smugness pinching her features. “I’m going to go say goodbye to my friends.”
“Meet me at the front door.”
I watched her walk away, only mildly intrigued. Pulling my gaze back to the bar to hunt down Bronn to close my tab, I was met with my own reflection in the stained-glass window behind the taps. I could’ve sworn shadows hung under my eyes as I held my mouth in a miserable line. I wasn’t used to looking rough. Something about seeing myself hunched over a bar, nursing a whiskey while a 20-something-year-old stranger filled in her friends about her fling made me feel like my face was a roadside attraction. Sit on it and take a selfie, prove to your friends you saw it.
A sour taste filled my mouth while an indistinct dread frayed my nerves, like when you realized you’d overstayed your welcome at a party or slept in too long. I didn’t belong here. I could just feel it.
“She deserves better,” I mumbled to my reflection, realizing I wasn’t talking about Cami.
“Huh?” asked Bronn.
I pushed the tumbler across the counter. “Close me out when you get a chance.”
Catching Cami at the door, I put on my friendliest tone. “Hey, I’m sorry, but I can’t do this tonight. I swear it’s nothing personal.”
She balked. “What do you mean it’s not personal?”
“There’s this girl I’m realizing I still have feelings for, and this just doesn’t feel right.”
She rolled her eyes. “What kind of pathetic excuse of a man are you?”
“Guess I’m trying to figure that out myself,” I said, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jacket.
“Listen, Dean—”
“Dane,” I corrected, trying my best not to let that sting.
“I don’t need some asshole embarrassing me in front of my friends. How dare you lead me on!” She stomped her foot.
Feeling petty, I leaned in. “Hopefully you can find some daddy to gag you and burn that snazzy sweater while the night is young.”
She gasped in outrage as I brushed past her to open the door. “Fuck you!”
“You wish you could, sweetheart!” I shot back, not even looking at her.