Authors: Angela Fristoe
He couldn’t hear the conversation, but even at his distance, he could easily see the difference in how the girls approached the customers.
Keeley waitressed like she did everything—she was loud and friendly with an untamable sauciness. Cora, on the other hand, managed to give off the sweet and innocent vibe like she was entirely unaware of the dirty thoughts no doubt running through those guys' heads.
The sweetness had always been Cora’s defining characteristic and one of the reasons she and Lela had been best friends. Right up until she killed Lela. And if he’d had any doubt about how little innocence she possessed, their little episode earlier dispelled it.
The glass he held in his hand exploded from the pressure of his grip, raining shards onto the floor.
“Shit,” he muttered and tossed what was left of the glass in the trash. He turned on the faucet in the small sink and placed his hand under the running water to remove any trace of glass, then grabbed the small broom from under the counter to sweep up the mess.
“What happened?” Logan asked, appearing on the other side of the bar.
“Nothing, just a broken glass,” Gavin brushed the incident off.
“You need to get control.”
“I’m fine.”
“You look like shit, and you know damn well that leaves you open to—” Logan cut himself off as a customer approached. “Clean up the mess and get yourself in control.”
Gavin turned away from his brother and wiped down the counter. With happy hour beginning, business picked up, humming with activity. By the end of his shift, customers lined the length of his counter.
Scanning the group of four ladies in front of him, he flashed his best cocky smile. The giggles he received in exchange were almost as satisfying as the tip he anticipated.
“What can I get you, ladies?”
“What’s the best drink you make?” asked the tall redhead.
He contained his snort of contempt at the lame question. He wasn’t a world-class bartender, but as long as you followed a recipe it was hard to mess most drinks up. On the other hand, he wasn’t about to break out a manual, either.
His eyes narrowed as he took in the polished appearance Red had attempted with her make-up and the fake-diamond tennis bracelet. Her desire to be seen as sophisticated was a bit too obvious, especially since she barely looked legal.
“Nothing beats my crantini.”
“Perfect,” she said.
“Crantinis all around?” He scanned the others as he snagged his martini shaker.
The other girls looked at each other and then back at him.
“Beer,” they said in chorus and laughed as Red rolled her eyes.
He laughed. “My kind of ladies.”
“Fine. I’ll drink the vile stuff,” Red said and held up a long manicured finger, pointing at her friends. “But one of you is responsible for getting me home.”
He was pouring the last pint when he sensed someone behind him. From the smell of vanilla, he figured it was Cora.
“No overtime,” she said.
He topped off the beer, letting the foam settle into the perfect head before sliding it across the counter to Red. After he added the order to their tab, he turned to Cora.
“I’m waiting on Josh,” he explained.
“He’s in the back, and that’s where he’ll stay if you don’t go and get him.”
“Thought I wasn’t supposed to leave the bar unattended.”
“That’s why I stay here while you go get him.”
Cora moved around him, invading his domain and started rearranging everything he’d organized. She picked up a rack of glasses and moved them into the far corner.
“Why don’t
you
grab him?” He used his foot to maneuver the rack back to where he’d had it, enjoying the scowl the action brought to her face.
“Your brother’s lazy and he’ll stall as long as possible if he knows you’re out here.”
He felt guilty he didn’t defend Josh, but honestly, his younger brother
was
lazy. Not that Josh wasn’t a hard worker, it was more like his easy-going attitude empowered him to ride the waves of others’ hard work. Then again, what did Gavin know? Hell, Josh had held this job longer than Gavin ever held any.
“I can tell him you’re waiting,” she said when he didn’t respond. “But chances are he’ll let himself be distracted once I can’t see him anymore.”
“Fine. Stop messing with my space,” he grumbled.
“Keep it tidy and I will. How you guys even function behind here amazes me.” She shoved the rack of glasses back to where she’d moved it. “You keep the racks stacked here, so anyone back here doesn’t trip over them.”
She had a point, but having the glasses right next to him was easier. Rather than admit she was right, or to argue in vain, he trudged off to find his brother.
In the kitchen, he found Josh exactly where he expected—leaning against the wall, stuffing his face with peanuts.
“You’re up,” Gavin said.
Josh groaned, raking a hair over his short black hair. “Is Cora out there?”
“Yeah.”
“Damn. She’s gonna rake me over.” Despite his words, he took another moment to swipe a handful of peanuts and stuff them in his pockets.
Keeley sauntered through the door and stopped to stare at Josh.
“What?” he asked her.
“Cora.”
He groaned again but went out to his station. As he exited, she flicked her wrist and made a whipping noise. When he gave her the finger behind his back, she laughed and repeated the noise.
“That girl has your brother trained like a lap dog. I swear he’s got a thing for her.” She must have caught Gavin’s shocked expression, because she asked, “What? Didn’t expect some brotherly competition?”
“Competition? For what?”
“Uh, the peanuts.
Cora
. Who else?”
“Not interested,” he snapped. “And she’s not someone I’d ever let my brother stoop to dating, either.”
“Whoa,” Keeley pulled back in surprise, shock contorting her normally beautiful features. “Chill. Cora’s my friend, and I suggest if you have a problem with her you keep it to yourself, or we’re gonna have a problem.”
“No problem,” he said through gritted teeth, grateful the natural noises of the kitchen kept Mateo from overhearing their exchange. The last thing he needed was complaints to Noah on his first day. Even though his brothers would fight to the death for him, there was no way they’d let him give Cora crap at work.
“Good.” Keeley smiled as if he’d never even opened his mouth. “Now, we need to talk about your service technique.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“You need to do less smiling, less flirting. We want the ladies to be at the tables, not the bar.”
“Drinks are drinks, right?”
She reached up and patted his cheek. “Sweetie, they won’t tip me if you’re the one hooking them up with drinks. So, stuff the stud routine and send them my way.”
“What do I get in exchange?”
“Standard fifteen percent cut. Unless I hear you talking smack about Cora again. Then it’ll be my foot up your ass.”
She blew him a kiss and sauntered off to the change room. It would have been funny and maybe a bit sexy, except Cora stood directly behind the spot Keeley had just been. There was no way she missed Keeley’s warning.
He waited for her to lash out, but she didn’t. He untied the waist apron and tossed it in the laundry basket in the corner. Her eyes followed him, and his nerves got the better of him.
“Problem?” He let his eyes narrow.
Her lips thinned, though their natural fullness failed to give her the stern face he was sure she was going for.
“No,” she said after a long pause then followed Keeley’s path.
As much as he wanted to change, he wasn’t going to risk being in a cramped space with Cora again.
THE MAN SITS IN his car, flexing his leather-clad fingers around the steering wheel, the only outward sign of his tension. He watches Gavin step out from the bar, the door drifting closed behind him.
In the rear-view mirror, the ma
n’
seyes hazel eyes flash with concentration. Cora tries to see more, but she is trapped within the ma
n’
s gaze, seeing what he sees. And he is intent on his purpose.
Gavin rolls out of the parking lot in his Jeep. The man waits until the Jeep reaches the light a block down the road then follows, keeping a good distance between them all the way to the apartment complex. Then he watches again. This time, his fingers smooth along the barrel of his gun.
He raises it and finds Gavin in his sights.
Cora’s eyes fluttered, reluctant to face the midmorning light streaming in through the blinds. She inhaled deeply, her stomach churning as she reached for the bottle of water on her nightstand and took a long sip.
Sleep had been an absent friend in the months since the accident. It started with nightmares about drowning; then a year ago, the visions started.
At first, she thought she was suffering some kind of hysteria, a kind of post-traumatic stress. She’d wake in the middle of the night, shaking with adrenaline, then be thrown into a vision of Gavin.
She brushed them off as semi-conscious dreams for the first few weeks. Sometimes, they bordered on fantasies, other times on nightmares. Then she discovered some of the things she saw actually happened.
Once she started thinking of them as visions rather than hallucinations, she searched for some sort of order. There wasn’t any. She saw things from the past, others from the future. She accepted them for what they were—a glimpse into his life.
When the man first entered the visions, he’d seemed innocent enough. A stranger who caught a glimpse of Gavin at the store or outside of the bar. But as the visions came more frequent, his presence became something else; he became the sole set of eyes to view the events. That night’s vision was nothing new.
Someone out there was trying to kill Gavin.
Telling him had been her first instinct until she realized how crazy it sounded. Up until a year ago, Cora never believed in psychic visions, but there was no other way to describe them. Yet, even though she believed in them didn’t mean she expected anyone else to.
Moving back to Thompson Creek was the only way she could stop what would happen.
She dragged herself from bed and padded across the cold hardwood floor to her dresser. She jotted down a few notes about what she saw in a journal filled with other details. Not that she had much to go on. The location and time of the hit differed each time as if the man hadn’t yet decided. As for identifying him … Well, he was too nondescript. He looked like so many other older, white men. With hazel eyes. That was new. After work, she’d take the time to figure out how this vision fit in with the others.
Waitressing at Porter’s Pub wasn’t the most intellectually stimulating job, and it didn’t utilize her degree in art history in the least, but it was fast paced even in the afternoon and she loved the people she worked with.
Although, by the end of Cora’s shift that day, Keeley was driving her nuts.
“God, he’s so yummy. I’d totally go for him if he weren’t such a manwhore,” Keeley said.
Cora glanced over at her friend who pretended to wipe down tables while drooling over Gavin. It was a habit Keeley picked up when Gavin started working at the club three weeks before.
She admitted he was yummy. His biceps stretched the sleeves of his shirt as he carried and she glimpsed the tattoo that snaked over his shoulder and across his back peeking out. He reached up to restock the bottles on the top display case, pulling his shirt up and revealing his abs and her body clenched at the memory of how hard they were.
“He’s not a manwhore. He’s just very … social,” she said, defending him.
Keeley snorted, throwing her a disbelieving look. “Have you not seen him in action? Girl, he hooks up with a different piece of ass every week. Well, except Hailey. She’s about the closest he’s got to a girlfriend since ever.”
“Not since ever.”
Cora loaded the last of the dirty glasses on her tray and left Keeley to her drooling. Hearing about Gavin’s sex life wasn’t something she wanted to think about, yet it seemed to be the only topic Keeley wanted to discuss that afternoon. Which, considering Keeley’s interest in Logan, was a little strange.
Avoiding Keeley, though, was next to impossible unless Cora quit mid-shift.
“So, have you known him for long?” Keeley asked when she appeared in the kitchen a few minutes later.
“Nine or ten years.” Cora shrugged and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “We went to the same high school until he graduated early.”
“Please tell me you at least hooked up with him once in all that time. Other than your little petting session in the liquor room.”
“He dated my best friend; besides I don’t think I’m his type.” Cora ignored the reference to the liquor room.
Keeley gave a sad shake of her head, and Cora couldn’t blame her. Compared to Keeley’s life, her own was about as dull as … Well, she couldn’t even think of a good comparison for how dull it was.
“I think anything with boobs and an ass is his type,” Keeley said.
Cora knew better. He had a type.
Lela
. With her huge brown eyes and thick black hair, she’d been a beautiful mix of Portuguese and Armenian heritage.
“I thought you were still stalking Logan,” Cora said, hoping to deflect Keeley’s attention. She turned on the tap and scrubbed her hands with soap.
“Not stalking. I’m merely keeping an eye on the prize. One day’s he’s gonna crack, and I’ll be there to swoop in and save him from the harpy he calls his girlfriend.”
While she didn’t say anything aloud, Cora figured Keeley stood a better chance with Gavin than Logan. Logan seemed to be looking for someone more grounded than Keeley. On the other hand, Gavin wasn’t looking for any attachment, and Keeley fit his typical hook up perfectly—loud, assertive, and sexy.
“Obviously, stalking is on your mind.” Keeley loaded a rack with clean glasses. “So I’ll tell you now—you’re bordering on it.”
“W
hat?
Me? I’m not stalking anyone.” Cora was horrified.
Had she been so obvious?
Not that she was stalking Gavin.
Okay, so maybe she kind of was,
but she had her reasons, and it had nothing to do with the erotic dreams she had of him every night.
“Girl, you keep telling yourself that and—Forget it, there’s no way even you believe that.”
“I’m not stalking Gavin. We’ve just run into each other a few times.” She focused on the lemons she pulled from the fridge to avoid Keeley’s knowing smile.
So it was more than a few, and she might have changed her shift schedule once or twice so she worked with him more often.
Okay, she did that four times.
“It wouldn’t be so bad if the guy didn’t absolutely despise you. He’s got a hard-on for you, and I’m not talking about the one in his pants.”
Cora rolled her eyes and laughed, but inside she died a little. Knowing it was one thing, having other people be so aware of it was another. She didn’t need humiliation or pity piled atop her guilt.
“What did you do to him anyway?” Keeley immediately held up a hand. “Sorry, I’m being nosy, aren’t I? You don’t have to answer. Unless it’s really juicy.”
Cora took a deep breath and debated what to say. Keeley was her only close friend and deserved to know what she’d done.
“I’m the reason his fiancée is dead.”
“You’re shitting me.” Keeley put down the glass she held and stared at Cora. “You can’t even kill a fly and you always make me take the spiders outside. How could you possibly have killed her?”
“We went out to celebrate our graduation. One last hurrah before becoming full-fledged adults with degrees and jobs and responsibilities.” Cora almost smiled as she remembered how excited they’d been. “We were on our way home, and I was so smashed.”
“Oh, Cora …” Keeley said with such pity and disappointment, Cora cringed.
“Some guy almost rear-ended us, and I freaked out. Lela told me to calm down, but I gave him the finger. He followed us, and when we got to Thompson Creek Bridge, he rammed us and pushed us over the edge.”
“Sounds like it was the other guy’s fault.”
“No.” Tears welled in Cora’s eyes. She wiped at them with her arm, then began slicing the lemons. “Her death was my fault.”
“Girl, even if you drove drunk, the accident might not have happened if he hadn’t gone into road rage mode.”
“I wasn’t driving.”
“Even more reason for you not to be blamed.”
“Lela survived the crash into the water, but her seat belt jammed, and I was too drunk to get her out in time. She drowned.”
“And you think Gavin blames you?”
“I know he does.”
“Then why the hell did you convince Noah to give him a job?”
“Because he needed it.”
She didn’t give Keeley a chance to grill her further. She scooped up the lemons, tossed them in a small bowl, and carried them out to the bar.
Gavin needed the job, and she needed to be close to him. She wasn’t going to let anyone else die because of her.
From the corner of his eye, Gavin watched Cora move across the floor. The end of her ponytail swept the top of her low-cut jeans, drawing his eyes to her ass. His hands clenched in memory of how her lush curves felt as he’d squeezed them. His cock twitched, and he adjusted his stance to relieve the press of the zipper.
“Hey, sugar.” Hailey slid onto the stool across from him. “You sticking around tonight?”
She batted her eyelashes. At least, he assumed they were eyelashes. With all the black gunk on and around them, he wondered if they were really spiders.
“I might,” he answered as he mixed her usual raspberry vodka on the rocks with a splash of cranberry juice.
He placed the drink in front of her, and she trailed her fingers along the back of his hand.
“Work is making you a dull boy. You need a beer and a good rub down.”
Her offer was the same every time they hooked up, and until he started working at the pub, it worked. Now, well, after her mouthing off to Noah about his night terrors, Gavin wasn’t interested.
Hell, if he was honest, his lack of interest in Hailey was because of Cora. She was everywhere. The first few months she’d been back in Thompson Creek, he never bumped into her. Now he constantly saw her. She hung out after her shift, turned up on the evenings he worked late, distracting him from other possible pursuits. She was seriously cramping his sex life.
He needed to get her and her ass out of his mind.
“All right,” he said to Hailey and flashed his best cocky smile. “I could use a beer, but only if you’re doing the rubbing.”
The sudden smack on the back of his head sent him surging forward, and he caught himself on the edge of the counter before his face hit the hardwood surface. He twisted around and found Noah glaring at him.
“Watch your mouth, there’re ladies around here,” Noah ordered, crossing his arms in his “I’m the boss” stance.
“It’s all right, Noah. I like it when he’s a little naughty.” Hailey giggled.
“I wasn’t talking about you.” Noah glared at her, returning the middle finger she gave him. Noah’s dislike for Hailey was no secret, and he took every opportunity to let her feel his contempt.
“Bite me,” she sneered, snatching up her drink. She winked at Gavin. “Catch ya later, sugar.”
She headed for a group of friends, and Gavin tried to find even a spark of lust. Objectively, she was sexy as hell, and sure, he appreciated the short shorts barely covering her ass cheeks, but he felt nothing.
“You still banging that bitch?” Noah asked.
Rather than answer, Gavin grunted and unhooked the empty keg, replacing it with a new one.
“Josh here yet?” he wiped his palms on his jeans.
“Logan is sending him out.”
“I thought he only responded to Cora’s orders.”
“Yeah, well, we need to talk, and I’m not waiting until you’re too shitfaced to give a fuck.”
Noah stomped through the kitchen door, which swung back open as Josh sauntered through. He paused to talk with a pretty brunette.
Josh was a player, and Gavin had seen his brother flirt with a lot of girls, but not like that. He laid a hand low on her back, playing with the ends of her long, wavy hair. The touch was too personal for her to be just another woman. He would have stayed there if Noah hadn’t stuck his head out the door to glare at him.
“What’ya do to piss him off?” Josh entered the bar area and began rearranging the glass racks.
“Breathe?” Gavin shrugged. “Ladies at the end have a tab, the bald guy hit his limit, and the short guy’s been eying the girls’ till.”
He didn’t stick around to see how Josh dealt with Shorty, though he knew his brother would handle that first. Noah and Logan wanted to talk, so they’d talk, then he could lose himself in a drink and Hailey.