Perfect Bastard (Mason Creek)

She turned but didn’t look happy to see me. I held out the cup. “A hot toddy. You look like you need it.”

That had been the wrong thing to say. Her frown deepened. “And what look is that, exactly?”

I swallowed my drink and held up the other. “You know what? Forget it.” I turned my back. The last thing I needed was to get in a verbal sparring match that someone could record.

“Aren’t you Nate Bowmen?” Barely reaching my waist was a little guy with eyes as wide as if I was Santa.

“Sure am.”

“Can you sign my ball? I mean, I don’t have it here, but next time.”

“Absolutely,” I said.

He ran off and told his friends. I saw finger-pointing and decided now was the time to exit. Not because I wouldn’t give the kids my time. I just didn’t want to make this event about me. I waved and when I looked back, the woman who plagued my thoughts was gone.

I wandered off in the direction of the bar’s booth and ran into a hurried Aiden. “Emma’s not feeling well. I’m going to take her home.”

“Shit. Is there anything I can do?” I didn’t like the look on his face.

“No. We’re good. I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

That was when it was announced over the speaker that the bar would be opening. Apparently, I’d missed the tree lighting. I downed the second drink as Aiden jogged off. There was more he hadn’t said, but he wasn’t talking.

I offered to help tear down the bar’s booth and walk the supplies back over to the bar. After storing the last table and chairs, I walked to the front where music was already pumping through the speakers and the atmosphere had changed.

There were a few women who gave me knowing glances, but there was only one on my mind. I decided to call it a night. The hot toddies had given me a light buzz, but it was wearing off. I’d taken a shot of Jack in the back with Jack, the manager, but it wasn’t enough to get me drunk. Just as I reached the front door to exit, Cinderella walked straight into me.

A bell rang, and my first thought was that somehow our connection had manifested into physical sound until the bartender and those nearby began shouting, “Kiss, kiss, kiss!”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what I’d stumbled into, and I glanced up. Somewhere while I had been arranging things in the back, someone had hung a mistletoe above near the door. No doubt the drunken peanut gallery who were still chanting were behind it.

My eyes found hers as she spotted the mistletoe. Only I couldn’t stop myself from bending down and pressing my lips to her soft ones.

SEVEN

Avery

His mouth was warm, tasting of a woodsy mix with hints of caramel and vanilla. I gasped and pulled back before he could take things deeper.

Instead, I slapped him. Not terribly hard, but enough for him to know that was not okay.

He rubbed his jaw. “I guess you’re no fun either.”

I lifted my hand and gave him a rude gesture with my middle finger. He said nothing and waltzed out the door like I was nothing.

The cheering crowd had gone deathly silent. I shifted to the right to head to the bathrooms. Why had I come here to use the facilities? It seemed wherever I went, I kept running into the infuriating man.

I’d finished my business and was washing my hands when a girl who looked barely eighteen stumbled in.

“You know who that was, right?” she slurred. I wasn’t in the mood and didn’t answer. When I went to leave, she stepped in my path. “That was Nate Bowmen. He hasn’t given any girl the time of day except you, and you turned him down. If I were as old as you, I would have thanked my lucky stars he even noticed me.” She looked me up and down before finally stepping around me to stand in the mirror.

There were so many things I could say. I almost said nothing. Then I stopped and turned. “If you put all your value in what a man thinks about you, you’ll always be unhappy.”

Then I left, chin high, and hoped I’d stopped a young girl following in the same footsteps my mom and Haley had. They’d both made poor choices when with men that continued to affect their life. I also tried to ignore her jab at me being old. When had I become that old person in the eyes of an eighteen-year-old? I’d only graduated from college a few years ago.

When I reached the front door, I quickly stepped outside before I got caught in the mistletoe trap again.

Though I shouldn’t have, I looked for the bastard in the crowd outside and didn’t see him. I did spot Haley, who was talking to a man who looked like he didn’t belong. The kind of man who felt more comfortable in a suit than the jeans he wore. He looked like money, Haley’s kryptonite. I didn’t spot Zoe.