Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
The damn thing was real.
I’d been sitting on the same bar stool for about an hour, just staring at the shirt—the one that shouldn’t exist—and drinking.
Not that either of those tactics was helping.
Three beers hadn’t been enough to wash the piece of clothing away, and, strangely, boring holes into Deke’s logo with my eyes didn’t miraculously change it into something else. All I’d done was make myself tipsy and sullen.
Fortunately, the tavern seemed like the perfect kind of place to be both of those things.
There weren’t a ton of people in the place.
Maybe because it was a Wednesday night, but more likely because there weren’t that many people in Goldwood to begin with.
Other than the drone of classic country tunes coming from the jukebox and a few scattered mumbles here and there, the room was quiet.
Nobody bugged me. No one tried to strike up a conversation. There were no critical looks or judging remarks. Not even from Deke.
Everyone there seemed to be here to do the same thing—shut up and drink.
Usually, this kind of bar was the last place I’d want to spend my time. The tough, overly masculine, sawdust-on-the-floor vibe intimidated the hell out of me. Back home, when I went out for drinks with friends, I wanted a place with light and laughter and a chance to let my hair down.
But not tonight.
Not when the shirt I’d been dreaming I’d die wearing was draped over the bar in front of me, like a wrinkled middle finger to reality.
Finding Deke’s Tavern on the internet after dreaming about the logo had been one thing. Weird? Sure, but not totally inexplicable.
Making the long drive up here, I’d been able to craft half a dozen plausible reasons the image had suddenly popped up in my mind.
Maybe it was a long-forgotten memory. I could have seen clips of Goldwood on television. Or seen pictures of the tavern in a magazine. Videos of the place could have come across my social media feeds. I might have seen it in a friend’s vacation photos or taped to their vision board.
And yeah, I understood that any of those scenarios were pretty unlikely. But that wasn’t the point.
The important thing was that they were all technically possible. There was a sliver of a chance, no matter how remote, that one of them could have happened.
But this T-shirt?
The exact one I’d dreamed about?
After a full half an hour of staring and obsessing over the thing, I still couldn’t come up with a believable story for its existence.
Like I said, the damn thing shouldn’t exist.
“Miss Carter? Hannah?”
Even though the voice at my side said my name, it took me a second to pull myself out of my existential stupor.
“What?” Blinking, I wrenched my attention away from the T-shirt and turned my head to find that one of the military police guys from the cafe had taken the seat beside me. The kind of cute one—Franklin. “Sorry. That was rude. I was…lost in thought.”
“No worries.” The MP shrugged off my curt tone. “You’ve got a big week ahead of you. The whole town is talking about you. Even the guys at the base are excited.”
“They are?” I grabbed my beer and downed the last few sips. Crap. My lies weren’t just getting a small town’s hopes up. Now they were involving the military. “About that, I…I…”
“Can I buy you another beer?”
Now that was a very bad idea. And not just because the balance of alcohol rushing through my bloodstream was quickly tilting away from tipsy and all the way toward drunk. But because even though Franklin had a baby face, the way he was currently looking at me was anything but childish.
“I don’t know.” I shook my head. “One more and I might not make it back up the stairs to my room.”
Franklin’s lips lifted slightly. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get tucked into bed, safe and sound.”
Eww. No.
That was absolutely not going to happen.
I didn’t do one-night stands.
I didn’t do anyone.
Sex, casual or otherwise, wasn’t really my thing.
“Did you find out if there was anyone named Tauren at the base?” I tried to change the subject.
A dark cloud passed over the soldier’s face. “Why do you care so much about this Tauren guy when you’ve got a nice guy next to you right now?”
Yeah, I’d had one too many beers to deal with a nice guy right now.
I pushed myself up and off the stool, impressed that my knees only buckled a little as my feet hit the floor. “What I need is some air.”
“Hey, I can help with that too.” I should have known I wouldn’t be able to shake Franklin that easily. I looked over to find him giving me a suspiciously wide smile, like he’d just hit the jackpot or something. “Have you ever taken a ride in a Jeep before? A real military one?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“You’ve got to try it,” he said. “The top and sides are open, so on a warm night like tonight, the wind whips past you. And if you drive out a mile or two outside Goldwood, all the light disappears, and you can see more stars than you could ever imagine. It’s amazing.”
“I don’t think—“
But the soldier steamrolled right over my objections. “I know this great spot right up against the Wall. It’s wide open. You can see everything.”
“The Wall?” I froze. An odd electric tingle had started buzzing at the back of my neck—the same sensation I’d felt this morning, finding Deke’s logo online. “I didn’t think civilians were allowed to go any closer.”
“Not usually, but you don’t have to worry about that as long as you’re with me. Being with an MP is like having an all-access pass.”
“But isn’t it dangerous?”
Franklin scoffed at my concern. “Hell no. Nothing from the Wilds ever makes it over to our side, and even if they somehow did, I’ll be there to protect you.” He pulled the keys out of his pocket and gave them a jingle. “So whaddya’ say?”
That was a good question. What did I say?
“Okay. What the hell?”
As long as I was going nuts, I might as well go all the way.