No Gentle Giant (A Small Town Romance)

I can hardly breathe.

But I can’t show weakness.

“If what’s left in the register isn’t enough,” I say coolly, “you can help yourself to the silverware and dishes. It’s all quality stuff, and I hear it fetches a few bucks at the pawn shops.”

His leer vanishes, replaced by a black scowl.

He strokes his thumb almost obscenely along the hilt of the gun.

“Thought I told you to shut it? I wouldn’t get that mouth going if I were you. Miss Lockwood sent me ahead to make sure you’re not about to double-cross her. So we’re gonna take the grand tour of this hole in the wall. And you’re gonna show me the money, the real money, all that goddamned gold.”

I...what?

Okay. Yikes. Eleventh-hour change of plans.

My head spins so hard I feel bloodless.

What the actual hell is going on here?

How is Alaska’s old frenemy working with Paisley Lockwood?

I need to stall him.

I’ve got to figure out what’s going on, and how to get all of them in here where I can incapacitate the whole scummy group and then get away until the police show up.

There’s a newly installed alarm button underneath the counter.

It doesn’t just alert the Heart’s Edge police to a break-in. It’ll call the Missoula police, too, though they’ll take longer to get here.

I’ve got to be totally sure Paisley and company are in that other car outside before I push my SOS.

Can’t risk her getting wind of what I’m planning, thanks to this stupid canary man, and booking it before the police can block them and haul them into custody. Or at least collect their broken bones.

“...you move fast for a big guy.” I search for words to stall him, to get him on the defensive. “Sleeping with her already, huh? Daddy issues must be your type. You like getting dirty with pointy objects that could put somebody’s eye out? She’s a total freak for knives.”

His face goes a weird shade of orangey-red.

Good. I want him gobsmacked mad, but not mad enough to shoot me.

Just pissed off enough to waste his precious time defending himself when his boyish little ego’s been pricked.

“Don’t get cutesy,” he sneers. “I’m not into no freaky shit. I like real women who aren’t into blood.”

I swallow hard. Even if I’m glad for the seconds that pass...I feel a little queasy at his leering look that slides over my face, my shoulders, my chest, my hips.

“Hell, maybe I’ll give you a toss once Charter’s done with you. You look hard up for it. I heard about you. Town pump, huh? Fuck around with anyone who’ll give you money?” His mouth stretches in an ugly curl, his tongue flicking, wet. “Maybe if you’re nice, I’ll talk Miss Lockwood into letting you keep one of the gold bars. Payment for your service.”

Oh, God.

Don’t vomit.

Do not.

Don’t spit hot coffee in his eyes, either.

No matter how insanely satisfying it might be.

Just breathe.

Focus.

Keep him talking, spilling idiot things from his mouth. Every gross word burns up time he could be using for diabolical actions.

I lean forward against the counter, folding my arms, eyeing him. I can’t quite pull off a coy smile, but I hope he thinks he’s caught my interest.

“You’ve got that kind of pull with Paye? Wow. What do you have on her? She’s not an easy lady to convince.”

“Let’s just say she owes me.” He grins toothily, like he’s just on top of everything. “You thought you were being funny teasing her with that gold? She already knew. I told her. Lucky me, running into her after Charter chased her out of your house...”

My eyes widen. “You were at my house?”

“No shit. Wanted to know what was going on. Charter’s never gone crazy like that before, throwing a punch at me. Figured if anything could make him that nuts, it was a woman.” He runs his tongue over his lips, still grinning at me like a jackal, eyes roving over me possessively. “You must have that good shit. No wonder everybody wants a turn. Or is he just that psycho over gold? Always did have a soft spot for it, the thieving prick.”

I feel slimy, greased over, with the nasty way he’s ogling me.

It takes everything I’ve got to smile like I’m enjoying this stupidity, toying with one of the stirrer straws in an empty cup.

“Maybe I do have good shit. So that’s what you want?”

“I sure as hell deserve it more than he does,” Gavin snarls. “Man’s out here living it up like a king with hot chicks and this nice mountain life, and he thinks he’s gonna get to live high off that gold, too? Fuck!” He curls his upper lip. “Take it from me. All he’s after is the gold and a little pussy. You can’t trust him. Even if he’s dumber than a bear. Asshole falls for anything. He never realized I was skimming off the mine. And when I came begging for work, he actually believed I got some girl knocked up and needed cash for some brat I didn’t want. I’m telling you, toots, you’re better off without the bonehead. Alaska’s a liar and a chump.”