2. Whiskey Neat
TWO
CHARITY
I pass the exit a third time, my hands physically unwilling to turn the wheel toward the Estate on the edge of Forest Falls. My mother will be fussy and overbearing, begging to know all the details and then not-so-subtly pointing out everything I should have done differently. My father won’t be able to stop himself from saying, “I told you so.” Then he’ll offer me money as if that will make everything better.
It’s too much to deal with after twenty-eight hours in the car. I’ve not slept, barely eaten, and I just want a fucking drink.
As if the Universe hears my plea, my eyes fall on a familiar-looking hole in the wall. Slowing to a stop, I peer up at the neon blue sign. Peaks was a pool hall when I lived here, and not the kind you’d want to be caught dead in, but the sign now proudly claims it to be a sports bar.
I lap the building twice before finding a spot just around the corner from the entrance. The moment the car is in park, my head tips back, a deep sigh escaping from my lips.
Another breakup.
Another idiot man I let get too close without adequately vetting him. At least I didn’t tell him anything about my past this time. I don’t know what I would have done if the psycho knew about Forest Falls. I wouldn’t have had anywhere to go. Not that Forest Falls is high on my list of places I’d go, given the choice, but there wasn’t a choice this time.
The late March air is freezing against my exposed arms and legs as I dart from the car, slipping into the packed bar with a sigh. It only takes one look around the room for my eyebrows to rise to my hairline. Peaks’ customer base appears to be primarily women these days. Comforted by the thought that I won’t have to avoid any unwanted advances by drunken idiots, I slip through the crowd toward the old wooden bar at the back of the room.
Ten paces from the door, my eyes catch the bartender, stopping me dead in my tracks. Broad shoulders taper to lean hips and an ass I can see from across the room, despite him standing behind a bar that would be waist-high on anyone else. He turns to the side, speaking to a tiny woman on a ladder, and I see his buzzcut is offset by a full beard and straight nose. If memory serves, the eyes currently hidden beneath his strong brow are a vivid shade of blue.
I’m no longer surprised this place is packed with women. It’s been almost twenty years since I last set eyes on Theodore Grady, but those years have been unreasonably kind to him. My lip grinds between my front teeth as I take stock of my current outfit. I ran out of the apartment in my gallery dress but stopped at a mall halfway between New York and Forest Falls to get clothes and toiletries. I decided to wear the most comfortable outfit I found for the remainder of the drive—a distressed Flogging Molly t-shirt dress and the worn-out black Doc Martens I was ecstatic to find in my trunk. Now I’m wondering if I shouldn’t try to sneak back to the car and change into something sexier.
The thought is immediately banished from my mind. I am not here to flirt with Theodore Dickbag Grady. I’m here for whiskey and lots of it.
Unfortunately, my traitorous eyes don’t get the message as I move toward an empty stool at the end of the bar. I can’t seem to pull my focus from the way the muscles move under his too-tight t-shirt. He’s always been big, but he’s next-level enormous now, standing an entire foot taller than anyone else in the bar. A frown pulls at my lips when he reaches to help the woman off the ladder. She smiles up at him in a way that makes my chest tighten, realization dawning in my mind and shattering the dream of mind-blowing sex with the mountain of a man.
He’s taken. Of course, he’s taken. But it doesn’t matter that he’s taken because I’m supposed to be getting over a breakup, not getting into someone else’s bed, I remind myself with a shake of my head.
I bet it’s a big bed, though. It would have to be to fit a man like Theodore Grady.
My ass has barely touched the seat when the shoulders I can’t seem to stop drooling over straighten suddenly. Time slows as Theo turns in my direction, sky-blue eyes settling on me as if he knew I would be sitting there.
“Viper?”
The word doesn’t carry over the general noise of the crowd, but I see it form on his lips. Without thought, my hand drops to my right thigh, tracing the inky black snake hidden there.
It was my first tattoo, and I often call it a drunken mistake, but I know better. I was homesick and wanted to have a piece of Forest Falls with me. So I got the only piece of Forest Falls that I ever enjoyed inked into my skin.
And now that piece of Forest Falls is moving toward me, a virtual stranger after all this time. More than one person tries to flag him down, but the tiny blonde woman cuts them all off, snatching bills from their outstretched hands with ruthless efficiency. Theo doesn’t stop until the only thing separating us is two feet of sticky bartop. He’s close enough that I all but snap my neck in half to look up at him.
“Dickbag.”
“Viper,” he repeats the nickname, his voice like gravel around the word. Fuck, if that doesn’t send shivers up my spine. I wait for him to say something else, wanting more than anything to hear him speak again, but he just stands there staring at me like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
“You gonna get me a drink?”
“You gonna tell me what you’re doing here?”
Even as he says it, he reaches one hand toward the glass shelf above his head. The motion pulls at the bottom of his t-shirt, revealing a strip of his lower abdomen. I try not to stare, forcing my eyes back to his face, where he’s smiling cockily down at me.
A movement behind Theo draws my attention. The little blonde woman is chatting animatedly with several women at the other end of the bar. She looks like sunshine and rainbows, a perfect fit with the Theodore Grady I knew in school. He was always quick to laugh, easy to talk to, and willing to help anyone in need. I was sure he would leave this shithole town the first chance he got, but something must have held him back.
My money is on the human-sized ball of kittens slinging shots at the other end of the bar. Which makes the way he’s looking at me right now a real fucking problem.
“I don’t owe you anything, Dickbag.”
He doesn’t miss a beat, sliding a half-full highball glass in my direction with a wicked grin. “Actually, you owe me twenty-nine dollars.”
“For a single pour of whiskey?”
“For a generous pour of the only whiskey up to your exceedingly high standards.”
My eyes narrow on his perfect fucking smile as I bring the glass to my lips. Sure enough, the whiskey goes down smooth and smokey, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes at him. “You don’t know me like that.”
Even his laughter is like fucking sunshine, warming me from the inside out, right along with the whiskey.
“I suppose you’re right,” he turns toward the shelves of liquor, placing the bottle back on the highest shelf. “It’s been a long time since you’ve graced Forest Falls with your presence. What brings the great and powerful Charity Lawson back to our humble streets?”
I hum around a mouthful of whiskey, rolling the bottom edge of the glass along the bar. “Nothing good ever brings people here.”
“Right again,” he agrees, leaning one hip against the ice chest on his side of the bar. “Tell me what terrible thing brought you here, and I promise to chase it back into the dark.”
Memories flash behind my eyelids, each one filled with a towheaded teenager, too tall for his own good and smiling brightly in the face of danger. Theodore Grady hasn’t run from anything in his life. He wouldn’t understand. Worse than that, he really would try to fix it for me. This isn’t the sort of thing one man can fix, even if he does look like he could crush a person’s skull with his bare hands. My eyes snap open, tracing the lines of muscle in Theo’s arms and chest, dipping down his abdomen to the place where his shirt barely meets the top of his jeans.
I need to get out of here before I do something stupid.
“Nothing worth worrying over.” Digging through my purse, I grab two twenty-dollar bills and drop them on the bar beside my empty glass. “Thanks for the drink, Dickbag.”
“You’re leaving?” There’s a sharpness to the question that surprises me. When I glance up again, he’s looking over his shoulder. The tiny blonde woman nods at whatever look he gives her, waving him away with an almost impatient hand. It screams domesticity, making me huff in annoyance at myself for drooling over this poor woman’s husband.
“I’ll walk you out.”
“You don’t need to do that,” I snap, internally berating myself when his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. It isn’t his fault he’s too attractive for my libido to get the message that he’s taken. “It’s not like I’m going to get lost on Main Street, Dickbag.”
“You’re not walking to your car alone at night,” he insists, reaching out to stop me when I take a step away from the bar. My entire body lights up at the contact, but his hand is gone before I can even register what’s happening. “This isn’t the same Forest Falls you grew up in, Viper.”
Something about his tone makes me think there’s more to the statement than he’s letting on. He doesn’t seem to want to elaborate, so I shrug, hoping he doesn’t hear the sadness in my voice when I say, “I forgot how volatile things are around here.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m around to remind you.” His tone is far too flirtatious for my liking, and I don’t know what to do with it. Before I can come up with a reason for him not to walk me to my car, he’s putting one massive hand on the bartop and vaulting over it like it’s a six-inch curb and not a three-foot-tall counter. I swear every woman in the bar sighs longingly when he lands beside me, but Theo doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he’s looking around the stools with a furrowed brow. “Where’s your coat?”
“I don’t have one.”
“It’s freezing outside.”
Somehow, I don’t think telling him my only coats are lying in shreds on my apartment floor back in New York will make him feel better about the situation. “I left it in the car.”
Theo sighs, shaking his head as he mumbles something under his breath. He leans back over the bar, grabs a large grey ball of cloth from a hidden spot, and hands it to me. “Put this on.”
It’s a sweatshirt that has seen better days, but I don’t argue when I see the look in his eyes. The sweatshirt is barely over my head when I feel his hand on my lower back, steering me toward the front door.
“Where’s your car?”
“Around the corner,” I start in the direction of the car before I finish saying the words. Theo is on my heels the entire way, his presence like a physical touch on my skin. The moment I round the corner, I plan to dive into my car and speed away, but Theo stops me with a hand on my elbow.
“Why are you here, Viper?”
I slow to a stop, spinning toward him with a challenging look in my eyes. I fear the venom in my glare might be lost to the darkness, so I put some extra bite in my words. “Why do you care, Dickbag? Shouldn’t you be running back to Rainbow Brite?”
“Rainbow Brite?”
“The tiny ball of sunshine waiting for you in the bar.” When he continues to stare blankly at me, I roll my eyes and spell it out for him. “I can’t imagine your wife loves the idea of you being alone in this alley with me.”
There’s a moment of complete silence; even the biting wind grinds to a halt around us. Then deep, rumbling laughter fills the air. “I am not married to Lucy. She’s a lovely woman but she’s too sweet for me.”
The amount of relief I feel at his words is unsettling. I need to put distance between this overgrown puppy and myself. “I didn’t think anyone would be too sweet for you, Dickbag.”
“You would be surprised.” His words are little more than a breath, but I hear them. I don’t get a chance to ask what he means before he presses into my space, overwhelming me with his scent and blocking out the rest of the world. I think he might kiss me, which is insane, but then I feel his hand on my back, gently turning me toward my car. The driver’s door is open, and I have one foot in before I regain enough of my senses to form words.
“Are you married?” The breathiness of the question isn’t lost on either of us, and I quickly drop into the driver’s seat to hide my flushed cheeks.
The moment I’m seated, Theo’s torso follows me into the car. He reaches across my stomach, and I hear the click of my seatbelt fastening. “I am not married. I’m not even dating anyone.” The way he says “dating” makes me frown. There’s a bite to the word I hadn’t expected from him. “How long are you planning to stay?”
“Why? You trying to see me again?” That’s it. I’m buying myself a fucking muzzle.
Theo huffs a small laugh against my cheek, causing me to suck in a breath. His fingers dance up the column of my throat in a barely-there touch. I nearly whimper when his thumb brushes against the center of my bottom lip. What the fuck is happening right now? “It was good to see you, Viper.”
His response snaps me back into myself, and I pull my chin out of his grip. “Wish I could say the same, Dickbag.”
Theo gives me a smile that promises far more than I’m prepared to take on before stepping away. Just as the door closes between us, I hear him say, “Drive safe, Charity Lawson.”
He’s still standing on the sidewalk when I turn the corner onto Main Street, but something tells me this isn’t the last I’ll see of Theodore Grady.