Sophie Oak - One to Keep

“Hi,” a breathy voice said.

Alexei looked down at the small woman with dark auburn hair.

She was petite with a curvy body that had Alexei’s eyes roaming. His flare of attraction was shoved aside as he read the tight shirt she was wearing. Stella’s Café.

His stomach churned as he remembered he had a job to do.

“Would you like a booth or a table?”

His eyes briefly skimmed her name tag. Holly. Holly was a lovely woman. Luckily, she was not the woman he was looking for.

“I will sit at counter, thank you.” He felt a bit weary as he took a seat at the counter. He’d briefly forgotten himself. He sent Holly a tired smile and ordered a cup of coffee.

“Anything else?” she asked. Her bright green eyes were wide with expectation.

Alexei found he couldn’t disappoint her. She was sweet, and if circumstances had been different, he would try to seduce her. How long had it been since he’d taken a nice girl out? Never, he realized.

His brother had died when he was a teenaged boy. All he had thought about since was revenge. As he climbed up through Pushkin’s organization, the women he’d had access to had mostly been prostitutes or the sort to couple with gangsters. Not a one of them saw past his wallet or his position. Not a one of them had looked at him with wide eyes and a truly soft smile.

“You pick for me?”

Her head cocked a little to the side, and she bit at her bottom lip, causing Alexei to shift uncomfortably in his seat. She was so beautiful.

“Savory or sweet?” Holly asked.

“Sweet.” Definitely sweet. She would be sweet. She would be sweet in his arms. She would make sweet sounds. And her taste, that would be sweet, too. He would bury his face between her legs and lap up all the sweet cream he would draw from her cunt.

She clapped her hands together. “Excellent. Stella makes the best chocolate pie ever! Be right back.”

Alexei took a long, deep breath and tried to get his dick under control. He was always in control. He was on a mission, and that mission had nothing to do with a woman named Holly with soft breasts and wavy auburn hair that would look beautiful spread across a pillow.

There was movement to his left as someone sat down next to him.

Alexei turned to see a man with reddish hair settling into the last chair left at the counter.

“Cup of coffee, please?” the man said.

Alexei sized him up immediately. This man oozed authority.

There was a hard line to his jaw and a stiffness to his bearing, as though he was always ready for something to go wrong, and he would be the one to fix it. Alexei knew it well because he saw it, felt it, every day.

“Sure thing, Caleb,” Holly said, turning around. “You need a menu or just the regular?”

And just like that, the man named Caleb turned into a sputtering mess. “I…yeah, great. Great. Regular sounds good.” Holly shook her head. “I have no idea how you can eat the same thing every day, Doc.” She placed a big piece of pie in front of Alexei. “There you go, big guy. You make sure you tell me how you like that pie. There’s more where that came from, you know.” Alexei bet there was. Holly turned, and Alexei admired the way her ass looked in a pair of jeans. She was not skinny. Those cheeks of hers were round and curvy. He’d like to get his hands on her.

He turned to grab some sugar for his coffee. Cold green eyes stared right through him. The man named Caleb wore a frown that would have intimidated a lesser man. Alexei had sat with a gun at his head, not knowing whether he would live or die on more than one occasion. He found the man’s jealousy amusing.

“I am not trying to steal girl,” he assured the man. “But I am not blind.”

“You could be,” Caleb shot back.

Alexei shrugged. He dug into the pie. Holly had been right. It was excellent. “I don’t see ring on her finger.” Now the man was staring at his coffee. “I didn’t say she was mine.

She’s just a nice girl. She doesn’t need some tourist pawing at her.”

“I will attempt to keep paws to self, but if you want girl, you should take her. She is too lovely to be alone for long.”

“Thanks for the advice, but I think I can handle it.” Caleb turned away, his part in the discussion obviously over.

The door to the café swung open, and Alexei turned to see two boys walk in. They were twins, with dirty blond hair, oversized coats, and hockey sticks. Neither boy looked like he could handle a hockey stick. They were slender, with not an ounce of muscle between them.

They shrugged out of their coats and took a seat in one of the empty booths. Their heads sagged as though the weight was too heavy to carry. Each boy had sad brown eyes. They stared at the tabletop as though it was the only thing in the world.

Holly set Caleb’s mug in front of him. She was staring at the boys as she walked around the counter. She got to one knee, and Alexei knew if the booth hadn’t been so close, he wouldn’t have heard her soft words.

“They wouldn’t let you play again, would they?” Both heads shook.

“Little pricks,” Caleb muttered under his breath.

Alexei was curious enough to risk the man’s wrath. The boys, though American and twins, somehow reminded him of himself at that age. There was something in the way their heads hung in disappointment and the way they clutched those sad hockey sticks.

“Those young boys?”

Caleb’s eyes flared as though he’d forgotten he wasn’t alone and was pissed to be reminded. He shook his head as though to clear it, and his voice got low. “Nah, those are the Farley brothers. They’re twelve and flat-out geniuses when it comes to school, but they can’t get the boys from the next town to let them into their hockey game. It must be lonely for them. They’re the only kids their age here in town.”

Alexei turned back, and the kids were accepting comfort from Holly. An older woman with frothy blonde hair and cowboy boots was serving them hot chocolate and ruffling their hair. They seemed like nice kids.

“They are not picked for team?” Alexei asked. “Perhaps they were too many players?”

“Nah, they’re just not very good,” Caleb said with a little snarl.

“Those other kids are jerks because they think Will and Bobby are nerds. They have genius-level IQs and have photographic memories.

You know what a nerd is?”

Alexei searched his brain. “Yes, this is smart person. I do not understand why your country does not like the smart persons. In Russia, these boys will one day make all the money and get all the women. Why does this mean they cannot play hockey? How will they get better if no one will let them play?” He would never have learned if Mikhail had not taken the time to teach him.

“They won’t,” Caleb replied. His mouth became a stubborn line.

“I swear, sometimes I’d like to take those other kids by the throat and teach them what it means to be a bully. But I’m not supposed to do that anymore.”

Alexei slapped him on the back as an idea occurred to him. “Then we should put your anger to the management.” One reddish-brown brow rose. “Excuse me?” He searched for the words. Sometimes English was hard. “We should teach the boys. If they learn, then they play. No one will call them nerd when they learn to put their asses on other boys.”

“God, I hope you meant to say put the other boys on their asses,” Caleb said with a shake of his head.

“If that mean to hurt them in an entirely legal fashion, then yes.

This is what I mean. I am good hockey player. Do you play?”

“Yeah,” Caleb said, his lips curling up a little. “Actually, that sounds like fun. I wouldn’t mind a little practice.” He turned and slipped out of his seat. “Holly, can you get us a thermos of coffee?

Come on, Bobby and Will, the big Russian guy and I are going to teach you how to put the older kids on their asses—I mean butts.” Alexei paid his tab quickly and was rewarded with the twins’

shining faces, and Holly, who looked at him like he was the nicest man alive.

She could never know the things he’d done.

But maybe he could help a couple of kids out.

He followed Caleb and the boys out the door just in time to dodge two men in cowboy hats running for their lives. The large dog he’d seen earlier ran behind them.

“Sorry, mister,” one of them said. “We gotta move. Our wife’s having a baby.”

His English must be really bad, Alexei decided. It almost sounded like they shared a wife. He found that idea entirely entertaining.

“You coming, mister?” one of the young twins asked.

“Sure,” he replied and followed his new friends.

Stef strode through the double doors of Trio with one thought on his mind—get Jen and get home. He’d searched all over the fucking town for her. From the moment he’d realized she’d left the house, he’d been looking for her. He’d tried Stella’s, where he’d found out she’d had lunch with Callie and Rachel. He’d moved on to the Trading Post, where Teeny and Marie had admitted they’d talked to her for half an hour about everything that had happened in Dallas, including her unfortunate incarceration. Marie had made it plain that she blamed him. Jen obviously wouldn’t have gotten into trouble if he’d had enough of a brain to marry her. Laura Niles at the Stop’n’

Shop had said roughly the same thing.

How had she left everyone high and dry, but he was the villain?

“This place is new, Stefan. It used to be a hardware store.” And he’d done all of his roaming with his father riding his ass. He wasn’t sure how much worse the day could get.

“Mr. Weldon died back in ’05, and he didn’t have any kids. The place was empty until Callie’s husband decided we needed a bar he didn’t almost get murdered in,” Stef said under his breath as he looked around the little tavern.

It was filled to the brim with tourists. Stef wanted to growl when he remembered the damn Winter Festival started tomorrow. His brain went over all the things he’d promised Callie and Rachel that he would help with. It was a lot. He was supposed to host the final night’s dinner and call out the raffle prizes. Could he get out of that?

Shit. Rachel would probably get upset. A stiff wind was all it took to get her crying these days. He was stuck. That was just what he needed, his whole damn town overrun with strangers while he was trying to keep an eye on Jennifer. Despite what Nate had said, he would feel better when that damn painting turned up.

“Which husband is that? Nathan, or the large, ill-tempered character?” His father glanced around the place with the same enthusiasm he’d shown all day.

Yeah, that was a good way to describe Zane Hollister. “It was the big one, Dad.”

His father’s brows came together in a concerned V. “And you say that Maxwell and Ryan are involved with a single female as well?”

“Yes,” Stefan replied shortly. After the incident he’d started to mentally refer to as Anal Plug Armageddon, his father had all kinds of questions about the relationships in Bliss. He’d been shocked to discover that ménage was rapidly becoming a way of life in the little mountain town.

“But you aren’t sharing Jennifer with someone, are you?” Stef felt his face flush. He reminded himself that he was thirty-two years old, independently wealthy, respected in the art world, and responsible for himself. So why did talking to his father about sex make him feel like he was an eleven-year-old boy who had just gotten caught with a Playboy? Of course, he allowed, when he’d gotten caught with a Playboy, it had been by Stella, who’d given him a stern lecture about respecting women and taken it away. Max and Rye had been so pissed off because it was the only one they had. Two days later, Mel had replaced it. He’d given Stef a lecture, too, to always make sure the women in his pornography were humans.

He had to contain a laugh at the memory. “No, Dad. I’m not even dating Jennifer, much less passing her around to my friends.” And he wouldn’t. Not ever. He loved Max and Rye like brothers.

He felt the same way about Nate, and he’d gotten to where he was rather fond of that Neanderthal, Zane. But he would never understand how they could share the woman they loved.

And he didn’t love her.

A soft, twinkling laugh flitted through the bar. There were so many people talking and laughing, but that one sound had all of Stef’s attention. He could pick Jennifer’s laughter out of a crowd of a hundred thousand.