A Reason to Kill (Reason #2) (3 page)

Last Call was awesome in that antique, well-used, and overly friendly sort of way. Log framed like the other businesses in town, there was a long turn-of-the-19th-century bar against the back wall with stools across the front. It had pine wood floors were dark and worn crowded with old tables and chairs that were full of flannel-clad, hard working men. The log walls, tucked with off-white chinking, were covered with old pictures and stuffed animal heads, and all of it set the mood of the bar— manly, rugged, Alaska.

In my opinion, the best part of the decor was a picture of a mountain that was the focal point behind the bar. It captured the moment when the wind kicked up and sent snow swirling towards the sun as the sparkling ice crystals glistened in the warm rays. Another favorite, which hung near a poor moose’s head, showed a bear in a meadow as the sun slowly sets on the horizon, the gold of it backlighting the great beast. However, the picture that currently had my attention was of a particular logger strapped safely in a tree to keep from falling. He was large, gorgeous, and apparently hated my guts.

I’d had one too many shots, thanks to Lucy, and was currently closing one eye and then the other back and forth as my head rested in my hand. I watched as the image of Paul Bunyan, the man who’d scowled at me, jumped back and forth in front of my eyes. Yep, no matter which eye caught the image it was still the same—perfection in flannel!

Drink,” Lucy mumbled breaking my concentration from the brawny lumberjack.

Turning to my Patron, I licked my hand between thumb and forefinger, sprinkled salt, licked it, downed the shot, and then sucked on a lime while the burn warmed my cold body. Lucy laughed as I gasped and then I threw my head back and laughed as the buzz took away the day.

“Jesus, look at the size of some of these guys,” Lucy replied loudly over the Karaoke singer. I turned, cast my eyes around the bar, and saw a sea of well-built men wearing flannel. It was Friday night in Trails End and anyone under the age of seventy was at the bar to listen to those who were brave enough to sing their favorite songs. We weren’t heading up to our base camp until the next morning so Lucy decided we needed a night out to let loose. Since I was nervous about leading the field study Lucy easily convinced me to come out for one drink—that was three or was it four shots ago?

Now I was happily feeling the effects.

Head swimming, I looked around the bar until I saw Paul Bunyan sitting at the far end drinking a beer. He looked up, locked eyes with me for a brief moment, then being the geek that I am I lowered my eyes and looked away. After I’d made a fool out of myself in front of that gorgeous man, I’d decided my plan of attack where he was concerned was simple—evade and hide.

I know, I’m pathetic, but I’d already made a fool out of myself once and on a good day, I’m awkward with men. And let’s face it, that is no ordinary man.

Lucy giggled when another example of Alaskan male perfection approached our end of the bar. This wasn’t the first man to approach since we’d entered, but he was the most attractive one by far. Built like a logger with bulging arms and a broad chest, his best feature was his devilish smile. However, his brown eyes that were crowned with long lashes and seemed like they held secrets were a close second.

“I’m Jake,” muscle bound man told us as he stuck out his hand.

“I’m Lucy and this is Mia,” Lucy replied oh, so, cheerfully.

“Are you ladies here with the research team headin’ up the mountain?”

“Sure are. SIOZ sends a team up three times a year to collect data and change out cameras,” she informed him.

“How long are you stayin’?”

“We’re here until the job is done,” Lucy informed him with a breathy quality to her voice.

“Excellent, then I insist you ladies come down from Grizzly Pointe while you’re here. I’d hate for such lovely ladies to be in our midst and not get to spend quality time with you.”

Lucy beamed, excited by his request as she scanned his body. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that once we headed into the mountain range we wouldn’t see civilization until the end of the trip.

As Lucy continued to flirt with Jake, I stupidly looked to the end of the bar where Paul Bunyan sat. I watched with no small amount of interest as a woman with blonde hair walked up, leaned in, and talked to him. She was pretty, well built, and wore her clothes tighter than I did, but you could definitely see why a man who looked like Paul would be with a woman who looked like her. Feeling like a voyeur, I started to turn my head, but not before I saw the blonde run her hand up and down his arm. Seeing that, I felt a twinge of jealousy at what they had. I’d dated, rather unsuccessfully, but my awkwardness and inexperience or just plain bad luck with men (Donald for example) kept my head in books and the sheets of my bed cold.

I should have known better than to date my boss, it was cliché on so many levels. Nonetheless, my loneliness had won out over my practical side. Thankfully, I’d come to my senses and ended it, although that doesn’t stop him from trying to convince me at every turn to reconsider. Donald’s just too single-minded and full of himself for my tastes and he didn’t know how to have fun. However, his worst fault, the one that infuriated me the most, was that he never listened to my opinions or considered my point of view. He acted as if my views on nature and man living together in harmony were childish. He felt the only way to intervene when a species was in danger of extinction, was to eliminate man from the equation by forcing them out. So I’d said, “Screw that,” cut my losses, chalked it up to stupidity and then moved on.

Still staring at Paul Bunyan, I wondered if he was arrogant, belittled women as stupid or just considered them all playthings for men. As I continued to stare, he looked my direction and held my eyes. Of course, in my semi-drunken state, I almost imagined his face gentled a bit instead of scowling as he had earlier.

When Lucy laughed suddenly, stealing my thoughts from hot lumberjacks, I looked up and watched as Jake turned his head and shouted across the bar “Ralph, another round for Mia and Lucy.”

Here’s the thing about what happened next, I’ve been out of college a few years and wasn’t one to party when I was there, so I didn’t have a vast knowledge in all things alcohol related. That being said, I’m pretty sure I’d remember seeing a standing body shot.

After Ralph, a man in his fifties with a cool as hell mustache that curled at the ends like a prospector from the 1890’s, brought our round of shots, I watched in fascination as Lucy and Jake took body shots off of each other. Jake, with his devilish smile in place, lifted his shirt as Lucy ran her hands over his abs. With a look of awe on her face, Lucy winked at me as she leaned in, ran her tongue up his chest, sprinkled salt, and then licked said salt off him slowly. Watching this, I felt my mouth drop open and my heart rate speed up as this apparent seduction played out in front of me. When Jake repeated the same moves on her neck, my mouth went dry, apparently I needed to get laid if body shots in a crowded bar were turning me on.

However, turned on or not, when Jake turned to me with open arms, inviting me to do the same, I felt my head start shaking no.

I was about to excuse myself for the safety of the ladies’ room when I heard a deep rumbling voice shout, “Jake.” My eyes turned towards the bellowing voice and caught Paul Bunyan crooking his finger, indicating he wanted to speak with Jake.

I thought I’d been saved by bellowing Paul and had started to relax when the man himself, looking angry for some reason, headed our direction.

“You want in on this, Max?” Jake asked as he walked up.

Danger, Will Robinson, operation “Evade and Hide” commencing now!

Max, as Jake had called him, was more intimidating up close and in person than from across the bar. He was angry that much was obvious. You could feel it rolling it off him in waves. I guess I’d managed to piss him off again, but in my buzzed state, I knew I couldn’t go toe to toe with him. So, needing to “evade and hide,” I turned my eyes from both men and looked for the nearest exit. As I was about to make a break for it, the man running the Karaoke machine tapped his microphone and asked, “Who’s next?” Therefore, without properly functioning brain cells, I stupidly shouted, “We are.”

Without asking Lucy, I grabbed her hand and pulled her stumbling towards the stage. When we reached the steps, I shoved her up, holding on to her jeans for balance as she laughed. When we made it to center stage, I took the mic’ offered, turned towards the audience, and froze when I saw a roomful of eyes staring back at me. Lucy laughed, not caring we were in front of a bunch of strangers, then turned to the man operating the Karaoke machine and embarrassed me further.

“My boss loves Billy Joel, plays him all the time at work.”

Oh, dear lord!

As we waited for a song to queue up, I peered around the room and saw men smiling back at us, but two women on the front row were frowning. The two overly busty women, with hair so bleached it was white, started whispering amongst themselves, pointing our direction, then one shouted, “Figures a lower forty-eight’er like her would like Billy Joel.”

Figures a bimbo like you is a bimbo!

“Lower forty-eight or not, Billy Joel is, and always will be, “The Piano Man,” I bit out since bimbo needed a lesson in all things Rock and Roll

Before they could respond back, the opening “Ah’s” of “Uptown Girl” rang out and I closed my eyes. Now my humiliation was complete. Billy Joel was my favorite, had been since I was a child thanks to my parents, so I couldn’t help myself, one does not stand still when Billy Joel is rockin’ the house.

Lucy started singing as Billy filled my ears then, thanks to the alcohol coursing through my system, I started bouncing to the beat and wiggling my ass. When I belted out my first words, I was in my “Joel Zone,” so I danced around the stage with Lucy and worked that crowd like a Vegas showgirl. And let me tell you I had a blast. The men in the room clapped to the beat, whistled loud, and catcalled when I turned my back to the crowd singing over my shoulder. When the song was over, I threw my head back and laughed as the men erupted into applause. One elderly man handed me a beer so I took it and toasted the old-timer for his generosity. Hot and thirsty I tilted my head back and took a long, deep pull from the ice-cold bottle. A chorus of “More, more,” rang out as finished downing the beer, the room spinning faster with the additional drink.

Regrettably, I wasn’t paying attention to Lucy since I was laughing with the old men who’d approached the stage. When a new song came on, I ignored it. That is until I heard Lucy speak into the microphone. When she shouted my name, I turned and watched as she pointed to the screen. Feeling great, still in my “Joel Zone,” I shrugged “why not” and pushed up my glasses to look at the song.

When I read the title, I hesitated. Adele’s “Someone Like You” was a poignant song full of emotions I’d never experienced, but often wondered about. I knew Adele wrote most of her songs from personal experience, experiences I’d yet to have, but wanted.

“Sing it little lady,” shouted an old man with a big belly and silver hair.

Uncertain as to why I was hesitating, I cleared my throat, turned to the karaoke monitor, and jumped in on the second line while rolling my eyes at Lucy. I belted out the words as best I could and then walked over to my intern and pulled her to center stage
.
Lucy shook her head and backed away as I continued to sing, putting as much feeling into Adele’s words as I could muster.

When that mouth, the one that had occupied the last hour of his fantasies opened, and started singing, Max’s lip twitched for the second time that day. He scanned her body puzzled by her attire. Her black locks were up in a high ponytail and she wore a T-shirt with a fuckin’ Care Bear on the front that read, “Cuddle me.” She had on loose fitting khaki pants a man would wear, rolled up at the cuff and sneakers on her feet. She looked ridiculous, nothing like he thought she would, he’d figured her for designer jeans and fancy tops. But this quirky look, like she didn’t give a shit what she wore confused him and intrigued him even more. He’d watched her down shots and laugh like she didn’t have a care in the world. He’d been surprised by her behavior, would have bet money a woman like her wouldn’t set foot in a dive bar like this, let alone done shots like a college student.

Max took all that in but still held his ground. Laid back or not she was still troubled, he could feel it in the depths of his bones. Yet, every time her head tilted back and she laughed that husky laugh of hers, he’d felt it in his cock.