Sophie Oak - Two to Love

“Not going to happen.” Though the very thought made her smile. She wasn’t much of an authority figure. Neither was Logan, for that matter. “And Stef was right. We do need someone who knows what they’re doing. Just maybe not someone as hard-core as Nate Wright.”

Hard. He’d been ridiculously hard when he shoved her up against that tree. Why had she pulled back? Oh yeah, a little thing called self-esteem. Did she really need that more than she needed an orgasm? And how long would she be able to hold out if he tried it again?

Jen came up on her elbows, her pretty face scrunched up in disgust. “Well, we’ll just vote him out of office if he keeps it up. Did you know he warned me not to jaywalk? I was crossing Main Street to go from the diner to the Trading Post, and he stopped me. He told me next time I would get a ticket. I’m supposed to walk all the way to the Gallery and then wait for the stop light to turn red. Seriously? Doesn’t he have anything better to do?”

Yes, he did, and that was why Nathan Wright wouldn’t be here two years from now. He would get some time under his belt and move on. His family money might be gone, but Callie doubted his connections were. Nate would move on, and she would be alone again. She didn’t think she could handle it. Everywhere she looked, the road led out of Bliss.

Callie sat back up. If she was really leaving Bliss, maybe she should go out with a bang. Nathan Wright wasn’t the only who could scratch an itch.

“I don’t like that look.” Jen stared at her. “I see that look a lot in the mirror, and it always gets me in trouble.”

Trouble sounded like fun. Maybe it was time for everyone’s favorite aunt, who never cursed or threw a fit, to cause a little scandal of her own. She’d spent thirty-one years easing the lives of the people around her, smoothing the way for temperamental Max, listening to Rye’s love problems, being the girl on Stefan’s arm at family events because he didn’t “do” long-term relationships. And that was just the boys she grew up with. She was the one Stella called when her fry cook decided French fries and burgers didn’t soothe the inner artist in his soul. She was the one who listened to Mel’s latest alien theories. She was the one who sat through the Repertory Theater’s dress rehearsals and gave notes and went to every artist in Bliss’s gallery show. And who listened to her? What would they listen to, even if they were willing? She was Callie Sheppard, doormat of Bliss.

“Seriously, sweetie, whatever you’re thinking, don’t.” Jen got up, picking up her clothes as Callie rose to her feet. She followed behind her as Callie turned toward the cabin. “The naked thing is really a great way of thumbing your nose at society. You should stick to that.”

Callie glanced back. “I’m not thumbing my nose at society. I just like the way it feels. And whatever I’m about to do tonight isn’t about society. It’s about me. It’s about…” It was time to be a little vulgar. “It’s about getting laid. Callie Sheppard is on the prowl. What do you know about that bar on the far side of the mountain?”

Jen turned a little green. “Are you talking about Hell on Wheels? The biker bar? Tell me you’re talking about another bar. You want to know what I know about that bar? I know you shouldn’t go there because we’ll never come out alive. I say we because I can’t let you go alone.”

“Don’t be silly. How bad could it be?”

Callie walked into her cabin and hoped she could find some slutty clothes because she intended to find out.

The sun was just starting to go down over the tops of the mountains when the door to the cabin came open. Zane turned from the back window, surprised at the sight of Nate coming home from work early.

“I’m fine.” Nate slurred every syllable as he stumbled through the door.

Zane felt his eyes widen. There was a tall, angular man trying to help Nate. The man looked to be in his fifties and had a strange hat on his head. It was a trucker hat with tin foil coming out the edges. Now that he looked at it, Nate’s Stetson had foil peeking out of it as well.

“What the hell is going on?” Zane asked.

The tall man took a step back. Zane was used to it. He knew what he looked like. The older man squinted and then slapped Nate on the back. “It’s okay. He seems human.”

Nate smiled beatifically. Damn, he was drunk and still in his uniform. What was going on?

“He’s not human. That’s Zane, Mel. Don’t worry about the frown. He’s a brooder. It’s his thing.”

Mel nodded, as though that made sense somehow. He looked back and forth between him and Nate, seeming to form some sort of opinion. “Well, now I’ve always found it best that couples acknowledge their differences. He’s seems very nice, Sheriff.”

“What?” Zane was having trouble following the conversation. Nate stumbled to the green 1970s refugee couch. It had come with the cabin and opened into one of the most uncomfortable beds Zane had ever tried to nap on. Nate didn’t seem to have the same muscular issues with the couch that Zane had. He pulled his hat off his head and settled it over his face. He didn’t bother to get rid of the foil liner, just let it lay there, covering his mug like a burrito wrapper.

Zane looked to the thin guy. “What is wrong with him? Has he been drinking on the job?”

It wasn’t like Nate. Nate was freaking Captain America. Nate was upstanding and by the book.

Nate looked up from his place on the couch. His fingers fumbled when he tried to lift his hat, and both the Stetson and its tinfoil inner lining rolled away. “Hell, no. I do not drink on the job. I am completely off duty. That’s what happens when a hot little honey steals your squad car. I’m gonna spank her for that, Zane. Stef is right about the discipline thing. Girl needs some discipline. But I ain’t been drinking. I’ve been doing community service. I gotta start fitting into the community. Callie told me to.”

Zane felt his gut clench. Callie? Was Callie the hot honey who needed discipline? And why was Nate talking about it?

Mel was pulling on the quilt that lay on top of the couch. He placed it over Nate, who settled back down with a loopy grin on his face. Mel picked up the hat and made sure the foil was secure. “Don’t you worry about the Sheriff now. We got it all fixed up. He just needs to wear his hat when he’s out, and it’ll be fine. You see, he got probed.”

Nate seemed to think that was hilarious and started laughing, his knees drawing up. “I’ve been probed. Hell, I almost got to probe her. Got so fucking close. It would have felt really good to probe her.”

“I gave him my special tonic. He’ll feel better tomorrow. I drove by the station and got his keys and his phone, but he shouldn’t be driving yet. You’ll see, he’ll be all better in the morning.” Mel was nodding.

Zane didn’t think so. Zane was pretty sure Nate would be in a shit-ass mood tomorrow, probably sooner. Nate had never been able to hold his liquor, but he never stayed drunk for long. He always sobered up fast. And what did he mean by probing her? Was he talking about Callie? “What’s in this tonic? Whiskey?”

Mel nodded. “So you’ve had it before? I make it myself. It keeps the aliens at bay. They can’t metabolize it, so they stay away.”

“Got to get rid of the aliens so I can concentrate on Callie. Can’t let her quit. She’s a good secretary.” Nate sighed like a man who knew what he wanted. “She’s still so pretty, Zane. Her breasts feel so good. And she can kiss. Damn, for a girl so innocent, she tastes like sin. I’m gonna marry her.”

Zane felt the pounding in his head start. He looked down at his best friend in the world. Every time Zane had asked about Callie Sheppard, Nate had shrugged him off, telling him that if he wanted to know he should go see for himself. Bastard. He’d had her all to himself for two weeks. No wonder he spent so much time at the station. Callie was there.

“God, Zane, you have no idea how sweet she is.”

No, he didn’t, and he never fucking would because Nate had taken her without giving him a chance. Not that he had one. His hand went to his face, where the scar ran from the base of his skull all the way down to his jaw. He could still feel the knife splitting his skin. He’d thought nothing could hurt as much as that knife. He’d been wrong.

Zane felt pole axed. His hands were on the keys before he really knew what he was doing.

“Hey, where ya going?” Nate was trying to get up but got caught in the quilt. “Zane, we need to talk. You might say it’s crazy, but I been thinking about something.”

Yeah, Zane bet he’d been thinking about something. He’d been thinking about Callie and how he could steal her. Zane had zero interest in Nate’s thoughts. He turned to Mel, who still looked ridiculous with tin foil covering his head. “You should call his deputy and tell him the sheriff is indisposed.”

“Zane, where ya going?”

“I need a beer.” Zane was out the door in a heartbeat and headed for Hell on Wheels. A beer? He would probably drink a dozen, and it wouldn’t help.

An hour later, he knew he’d been right. He was only into his second beer, and it wasn’t starting to obliterate the image of Nate and Callie. Who was he kidding? And could he really blame Nate?

Fuck, yeah, his inner asshole said. Inner Asshole usually warred with Reasonable Guy. This time Reasonable Guy was perfectly silent. Zane shook his head. Turned out Reasonable Guy had a thing for Callie Sheppard, too. Inner Asshole was spewing some serious venom. Who the hell did Nate think he was? They had agreed that she was off-limits long ago. They had agreed that she deserved better. Maybe Nate had just decided he was better.

Maybe Nate had decided he was sick of putting up with his shit and was ready to move on.

Zane slumped forward, his elbows on the somewhat dirty bar. He called for beer number three. The low light of the dive bar revealed the other patrons. Leather and denim seemed to be the dress code, though some of the women wore bikini tops under their vests. Zane made a quick roll call of the MCs in attendance. The Animals, the Wasters, and The Colorado Horde were there in decent numbers. Zane could tell from the three-piece patches they wore on their leather vests. There were a couple he didn’t recognize, but he wasn’t worried. If someone figured out who he was, they would kill him quick. Now the Barbarians, that was another story.

In the background, Zane heard the small door to the prefab building swing open but turned back to his beer. The big bartender swung a fresh mug of whatever was cheapest in front of him.

“Damn it, there’s trouble.”

Zane looked up, following the line of the bartender’s sight. Two newcomers stood in the doorway, two women who looked to be a bit lost. Zane struggled a little to see them through the smoke. There was one with dark hair and a banging body, and a thinner, taller one with lighter hair piled in a bun on her head. Zane liked the short one. She had long, thick hair and round breasts. Yeah, he could do that one. Maybe he would try. It wasn’t like he was married or anything. If she didn’t mind ugly sons of bitches, he’d give the girl a ride.

Or he’d fix her car. That had to explain it. The two women were so out of place, they had to have had car trouble. The hot one was dressed in a yellow sundress. It exposed an expanse of creamy, ivory skin and made it look like a little piece of the sun was walking through the clouds. The other girl had given it a better shot. She had on a denim mini and a tank top, but still looked out of place due to the innocent air surrounding her. There wasn’t a place for innocence in here. Zane sighed. Everyone was staring at the newcomers. If he was half as heartless as he pretended to be, he would just leave, Inner Asshole told him. But Reasonable Guy finally woke up, and Zane knew he was going to protect those girls. They were going to get in trouble. Already Zane could sense the sharks beginning to circle. That old familiar tightening in his gut began. The adrenaline started to flow. Yeah, maybe a good fight was just what he needed.

“This is the worst idea, ever,” the girl in the denim mini was saying as they sort of floated through the cloudy bar. Maybe one of them had a lick of sense.

“Oh, I think it’s charming, once you get past the smell,” the other one said. She approached the bar, and Zane got a good look at her face.

He turned as quickly as he could, praying she didn’t see him. Fuck. What was Callie doing here? The adrenaline was still flooding his system, but he turned from fight to full on flight mode. He started to push back the stool, but stopped. Callie was about to be in serious trouble. His hand was on his cell, texting Nate to come and get his woman. He threw in a text to Stefan Talbot just in case. As pissed as he was, he wasn’t about to let Callie get hurt just because she didn’t belong to him.