Authors: Lyra Daniels
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Short Stories & Anthologies, #Short Stories, #Romance, #Holidays, #Military, #New Adult & College, #Contemporary Fiction, #Single Authors
Those eyes locked in on Azalea; he said nothing, just stared. For a moment she got caught in them. She could feel the heat of self-consciousness creeping up her cheeks as her pulse raced.
Tiffany turned to her and mouthed, “Oh my God,” before grinning like a Cheshire cat.
Azalea blinked and broke eye contact, “Alright, Tiff. Let’s go. Back door,” she dragged her friend around the bar and through the kitchen to leave.
To hell with the money
, she thought. That man sent shivers up her spine.
“Okay, now I know you saw that gorgeous specimen walk in to your bar. Why are we leaving? He seemed like he recognized you. Do you know him? And if you did why did you not tell me?” Tiffany babbled on and asked a million more questions, but Azalea had tuned her out. She felt intimidated and uneasy and really didn’t want to talk about it.
Of course she noticed how he looked, anyone with eyes could see the man was stunning, but the way he looked at
her
is what shook her up. The look he gave was one that spoke of possession and was rife with danger. Azalea felt like an antelope that had been targeted by a lion.
“You need to go back and talk to that guy. He looks like a man that could toss you around in the bedroom, and Lord knows you need that.” Tiffany giggled behind her hand.
“Yeah, and I’m sure I wouldn’t be the only one sharing that man’s bed. No thanks,” Azalea shook her head and climbed in to Tiffany’s car. Men like that didn’t care for girlfriends or monogamy. In Azalea’s experience, men like that only used and disposed of women.
Tiffany jumped in on the driver’s side. “Azalea, I’m going to say this as the voice of reason, you need to get out and start saying hello to people. Jason is a bad memory and a distant one at that. Not every guy you meet will be a skeeze,” Tiffany started the engine and pulled away from the curb, “Besides, you don’t have to get involved in a relationship. A one nighter might be all you need to get yourself back together and mountain man certainly looked interested.”
“Thanks for the pointer, but I’ve sworn off men after that asshole cheated on me with half of my dorm and my best friend. Forgive me, but I’m really in no hurry to spend any time with the male species, in any capacity at all right now,” Azalea sank back in her seat and tried to slow her racing heart.
Tiffany didn’t say anything for the ten minutes it took to get back to the apartment, which Azalea was thankful for. What was troubling was every time she closed her eyes, even for a second, she saw got caught in his stare all over again. The look he gave her sent a little thrill up her spine. Every instinct in her body was setting off alarm bells to stay away, but she had to admit to herself she was a little curious.
That man had zeroed in on her in a bar packed with people. It was almost as if he was seeking her out. She was spooked now, but a little part of her hoped she would see him again for her next shift.
“Rise and shine, lady. We have brunch plans remember?” Tiffany shook Azalea who groaned in protest. She hadn’t slept well the night before since tall, dark, and broody had been haunting her thoughts all night.
“Come on now sleepy head, I can practically taste my mimosa,” Tiffany yanked the covers off and chucked them in a corner. Azalea’s exposed body shivered at the draft. Tiffany sped around the room on a mission to get Azalea up, opening curtains and pulling clothes out of drawers.
“You’re a sadist you know that?” Azalea asked as she whipped her pillow at her friend, “I’m up. I’m up. Just let me get ready,” She staggered out of bed and into her bathroom, “Whoa!”
The reflection in the mirror was a nothing but a tangled brown halo and under eye circles. She spent ten minutes wrestling with her paddle brush in an attempt to get things under control. It would be a ponytail day for sure. The bruises and bags under her green eyes were another matter entirely. She said to hell with it. She just couldn’t summon the energy to cover them up.
Everything about being conscious made her whiny and irritable, especially the thought of wearing a bra. She moaned and stamped her foot at the drawer full of the stupid slings. Azalea turned and stared longingly at her bed. If she hadn’t had these plans with Tiffany on the books for the last week she would just crawl back in and blow the whole thing off.
With a sigh, she acquiesced and got dressed in her dingy white t-shirt bra. She slipped on her favorite worn in jeans. They were patched and fraying at the leg hems, but she couldn’t throw them out. An Iron Maiden baseball tee from a concert she had caught a few years prior and flip-flops completed her brunch look. She was by no means a fashion plate, but omelets don’t care.
“Alright, Tiff. Let’s go,” Tiffany as usual took her time to get ready. Her dark skin shone in a baby pink sundress that fell to just above the knee. French manicured toes peeked out of a pair of gladiator sandals. Even in minimal makeup Tiffany was stunning. Azalea looked down at what she was wearing and shrugged, “You’re just showing off, you know that? Nobody rolls out of bed looking like you do.”
Tiffany laughed and hooked her arm through Azalea’s, “You can just be my boyfriend for the morning then,” Azalea finally lightened up and giggled at her friend. She loved that girl, but man did she need coffee first.
Tiffany’s blue Hyundai pulled up to the curb at The Egg Shack, a slightly shabby looking establishment that sacrificed looks for quality. The building looked like it should be a seaside shanty rather than in the middle of downtown traffic. They had never had a bad meal, no matter what time of the day they visited. Every ingredient was fresh and sourced locally and the coffee was from organic sources and tasted like heaven.
The scent of hash browns and sausages in the air made Azalea’s mouth water. Quickly climbing out of the car the two women dashed towards the entrance. They could practically taste the delicious bitter liquid on the back of their tongues.
The rule was seat yourself, so the pair slid into a booth near the window to people watch. It was the last day of the festival and the diner was bustling with activity and teeming with hung over bikers in sunglasses.
“What can I get you ladies started with,” a slim, hipster with black and blue hair sidled up to their table. Her cheery attitude and welcoming smile cleared the last of the sleepy haze around Azalea. Who could be cranky around someone so warm?
“Coffee,” Azalea and Tiffany said in unison, “Ha! Mimosa for me,” Tiffany ordered
“Orange juice for me, please,” Azalea already new what she wanted to order, but held off because Tiffany was still looking. The server left to fill their drink orders.
“So sleepy head, rough night?” Tiffany raised an eyebrow and Azalea’s shabby state, “Last I checked I brought you home and you went straight to bed. How come you look like a truck hit you? Some tall, leather clad hunk keep you up last night?” a wry grin tugged at her lips.
“Actually yeah. Every time I closed my eyes that look he gave me would be waiting for me. It’s creepy,” after tossing and turning for several hours, she did manage to finally drop off, but she watched the sky turn pink first.
“Sounds better than creepy to me. That man was beautiful. I don’t like long hair on a guy, but even I wanted to take down that man bun and play,” the server swung by and dropped their drinks. They gave their orders, pumpkin pancakes for Azalea, Denver omelet and breakfast potatoes for Tiffany.
“I agree, but he was weird,” Azalea poured creamer into her cup.
Tiffany closed her eyes and savored the aroma of her coffee. When she opened them she grinned, “You may want to go ahead and tell him yourself,” Azalea’s eyes popped open and turned to look where Tiffany was pointing.
The mystery man strolled in wearing ripped jeans and a black t-shirt. He scanned the floor for a place to sit, when he spied Azalea looking his way.
“Shit,” Azalea ducked her head down, “I think he saw me. Did he see me?”
“Hi,” a male voice chimed, “I’m Luke Robertson. I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself last night”
Slowly, Azalea raised her eyes to acknowledge him. His height was intimidating, easily six and a half feet tall, but his eyes and smile were inviting and friendly, putting her at ease.
Tiffany looked on, grinning like an idiot and nodding her approval.
“Can I join you?” Luke asked. He was fully in control and relaxed, a stark contrast to the roiling of Azalea’s belly and sweaty palms.
“I, uh, well. That is we’re…” Azalea couldn’t get the words out. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to say yes or no.
“Of course you can!” Tiffany interrupted. The server dropped their food in front of them. Her eyes grew wide as she took in the man chatting with them, “Excuse me, sweetie? Can I get a to-go box? I just remembered I have somewhere to be,” Tiffany slid out of the booth.
Azalea shot her a look of death. She was mortified at the thought of being alone with this man. Didn’t she just finish telling her how creepy she found this guy?
Tiffany picked up her plate, “Sit, Luke. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll just deal with this at the counter,” she winked at Azalea before taking off. She made a mental note to deal with her later.
Luke squeezed into the booth; the worn red vinyl creaked under his weight. He winced as his knees bumped the legs on his way in. Azalea giggled a little behind her hand at the face he made.
“You have such a pretty laugh,” Luke commented. Azalea was bowled over by the sweetness of his smile. Boyish charm erased the hard façade his mountain man looks gave off, “What’s your name?”
“Uh,” Azalea had to think about it. She was so enamored with the man in front her she almost forgot, “Azalea. I’m Azalea Armstrong,” consciously she reminded herself to shake his hand.
What is wrong with me? He’s just a guy. No man has ever made you goo goo eyed before. Get a grip.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Azalea,” his huge hand swallowed hers up for a shake; his touch struck the flint inside of her. Feelings of intrigue and more than a little bit of lust caught her by surprise.
“Are you just here for the festival or…?”
Come on brain. Work!
“Yeah, but I live about twenty minutes away in Chico,” Luke was trying to figure out how to put Azalea at ease. She sat on her hands and he had never seen such a curvy body look so tense and rigid before. He tilted his head to catch her gaze. Luke figured he’d address the 800-pound gorilla in the room and get it over with, “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“A little bit,” she shifted her body off of her tingling hands, “Last night was really weird. You kind of freaked me out,” she decided being honest was probably the best course of action, “I mean a gorgeous giant walks into a bar – wow I feel like I’m starting a joke - and singles a girl out. How is she supposed to feel?”
“Gorgeous am I?” Luke relaxed against the backrest and crossed his arms.
Azalea’s eyes widened and a cold sweat trickled down her back. She felt like the awkward teenager she thought she left behind when she went off to college in Arizona, “I have working eyeballs, you know and you’re kind of hard to miss.”
Leaning his elbows on the worn Formica of the table, he significantly shortened the distance between them and sent Azalea’s pulse racing, “Well if it helps, I think you’re pretty gorgeous yourself,” he grinned at her. His face showed no malicious intent, just sincerity that sent Azalea’s heart racing and put color in her cheeks. He was attracted to her and he really wanted her to know it.
She covered her face with her hands, too embarrassed to answer. An overwhelming shyness swept over her. She suddenly wanted the floor to swallow her up and she had no idea why. It’s not like she had never been complemented by a man before and she was by no means a virgin, but Luke had a quiet intensity and charisma that drew her in and threw her off.
“Don’t ever do that,” Luke ordered as he removed her hands from her face, “As long as you’re with me don’t ever hide. You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” his hand lingered on her wrist. The silence hung between them, waiting for one of them to say something or make a move.
The server cleared her throat, breaking the strange spell that had settled over the pair, “Uh, is everything alright here? Can I get you guys anything else?”
Luke let go and turned his attention to the server, “Yes, ma’am everything is fine. Just the check, please.”
“Where are we going?” Azalea remained silent as Luke had paid the bill and escorted her out of the restaurant. As a precaution she text Tiffany so someone would know her last known whereabouts and what direction they were traveling in.
They approached a white 1970s Harley Davidson. Azalea lagged behind as Luke climbed on and tied his hair back. She watched with apprehension as he tried to pass her a black helmet, “Get on.”
As badly as she wanted to go with this man, every news story and cop drama about abductions she had ever seen flooded her imagination. The fear was enough to root her feet to the ground, “Not until you tell me where we’re going,” she had to be firm about this. Yes, she was drawn to him, but Luke Robertson was still a stranger, she had literally just met him an hour before.
“I’d like to spend the day with you. I’m only here for a few more days and would like to spend time with you and get to know you some,” he gestured with the helmet, indicating she should take it.
“Where are you planning on taking me? I’d like to tell Tiffany at least since we just met and all,” she had her cell phone at the ready, poised to shoot off a text message or throw it at him if needed.
“Butte Creek Canyon. And feel free to tell her you are not going against your will rather a ‘gorgeous giant’ has seduced you into trekking with him outdoors for the day,” settling the helmet in his lap he chuckled a little.
“You know, everything about this scenario screams serial killer, right? A large imposing man picks up a helpless coed and lures her into the woods for an afternoon of ‘fun’. I can see the headline now,” Azalea quipped.
“Trust me, if I wanted to just abduct you I would have by now. Get on the bike,” his tone went flat. Repeating himself grated his nerves a little bit.
Azalea sent the text and approached the bike. The gap between her body and his was only a few inches; she was so close she could almost feel his body heat. Reaching for the helmet between his legs she cracked, “Don’t be too confident about it. They say fat kids are harder to kidnap.”
Looked gripped her wrist again, a firm gesture not meant to hurt, but to get her attention, “I won’t tolerate you putting yourself down. Please, don’t say negative things about your looks. You’re a beautiful, woman.” He loosened his grip and brushed his hand over her skin as he released her, sending a rash of goose bumps up her arm and stirring the butterflies in her belly.
Azalea, momentarily struck dumb, just nodded in agreement. She had been told over and over by friends and family not to make fun of herself. Apparently it wasn’t attractive to the opposite sex either.
She knew that a size 12 was by no means fat, but she had always been self-conscious about her butt and thighs being a little curvier than average. So she built a comedy act around her insecurities as a means of deflection. It never dawned on her that maybe some people interpreted that behavior as an attention grab and fishing for compliments until her cousin Joe, who was two years older than her, mentioned it. By then the habit was so ingrained it would slip out occasionally when she got nervous.
Climbing onto the leather seat behind Luke, he wrapped her arms around his waist and glanced over his shoulder at her, “Hang on tight,”
He fired up the bike and pulled away from the curb. Luke picked up speed when they turned on to Honey Run. To Azalea, the wind in her face lifted her spirits and washed away some of the apprehension she was feeling about taking off for the day with a random guy. The thought still sounded weird in her head, but the exhilaration of being on the back of a motorcycle on such a beautiful day felt too good to question. Maybe being with Luke wouldn’t be a bad way to spend an afternoon.
Pulling off the road and parking the bike put a pout on Azalea’s face. The ride was just too short. Luke let her linger attached to him for a moment longer before attempting to get off the bike, “Alright. Let’s go,” Luke untangled Azalea from around his waist and unstraddled the bike, offering a hand to help her.