Or maybe that was the green apple vodka.
A brisk wind whipped my hair over my shoulders and I sucked in a lungful of that cool air, tasting salt and wrinkling my nose at the less pleasant smells that followed it. Fish and booze and something that I wanted to call rust.
This wasn’t one of those charming small towns with a cute coffee house and a handful of resale shops selling knickknacks and candy bars.
This was the real deal. A true middle of nowhere place with nothing going for it.
But the people here were still hanging on. I could see it in the houses with peeling paint, the older boats parked between catamarans. This was a stubborn place.
I liked it already.
I glanced at the back door to the bar, watching to see if my drunk friend tried to follow me out. I could make a quick escape down the boardwalk to my motel room, but I didn’t want to risk him knowing where I was staying for the night if he was still bitter about getting turned down.
A stone settled at the back of my throat, and I couldn’t tell if it was the cheap booze making me sick or the upwelling of emotion. Six months ago, I thought Jay was the best I could do. He was good looking, and he didn’t buy me a gym membership for my birthday in as a passive aggressive way to suggest I could lose twenty pounds.
My dance partner tonight wasn’t the man of my dreams. None of the redneck-cowboy-types at the bar were. But they wanted me enough to buy me a drink. To ask for a dance.
I let my self-esteem fall so far that I was my own jailer. I couldn’t even blame Jay, really.
I stayed because I wanted to be wanted. Distant but interested seemed better than loneliness.
I inhaled another gust from the bay. New Tara was not going to take that shit. I was hot, smart, and completely unbothered.
My confident demeanor vanished with a shriek as a throaty, deep voice purred beside my ear. “You alright miss?”
“Holy—Jeez, you scared the crap out of me.”
The man beside me tipped an invisible hat in apology. He was taller than average, tan, and looked way too clean and dressed up to be hanging out in a place like this. The cut of his jaw was sharp, his features perfect in a way that made him walk around like the world bowed at his feet.
It probably did.
Something in the lines of his face reminded me of Jay. It was fleeting, and when he smiled, the resemblance melted away.
“My apologies, ma’am.” My heart fluttered without my consent, and his smile widened, as if he knew the effect he had on me. He probably did. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay after that tussle. Those oil boys spend too much time out on the water. Makes them uncivilized.”
Unlike some of the locals I’d spoken with, his accent was faint. A soft drawl with a sophisticated lilt I couldn’t place. I took in his designer jeans and alligator-skin boots. Maybe he was old money.
The town itself wasn’t much to look at, but the beachfront houses with their four stories and three-car garages were probably owned by oil tycoons and doctors that spent their weekends fishing.
Did this guy spend every Friday night in one of those houses, looking down at all the old double wides and stilted houses with disdain?
He didn’t have that telltale curl of his lip. The expression Jay wore whenever the landscapers came, or when one of his employees parked their fifteen-year old truck on the grass by our driveway.
“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for rescuing me.” I caught my hair, trying to smooth it down where the wind had tangled it.
“You sure? I can run back in there and rough him up, if you like.” He moved closer, stepping under one of the yellow lamps. His brown hair was closely cropped on the sides, the longer locks slicked back in a gleaming wave across his scalp. The sharp angles of his face gave way with that dazzling smile. One part charm, one part mischief.
The sparkle of that smile carried to his eyes, an effervescent hazel that probably looked green in the sunlight.
This man was trouble. The kind I should walk away from.
“And they say chivalry is dead.” I couldn’t help but return his smile.
Maybe I was looking for a little trouble.
“Someone has to uphold the law ‘round these parts.”
I took a few steps, following the lights on the boardwalk to where I knew there was a small beach when the tide was out. The waves were still receding, dark water reflecting flecks of yellow and white as moonlight blended with the lamps overhead.