Bearly Deniable (UnBearable Romance Series Book 1) Page 2
Slipping Sylvia back her I.D., I leaned on my elbows along the bar top to watch her fiddle with her wallet. Everything about her screamed grace and humility, from the way her shoulders were set back to the clothes that covered her body.
“So, Miss Sylvia, what can I get you tonight?” Arching an eyebrow as she picked up the menu, I couldn’t seem to take my attention from her beautiful, freckled face. She had bright, sparkling, wide eyes the color of the ocean, and between them, spots littered the bridge of her small nose. With each beat of the fans overhead, her light cherry blossom scent would slither up my nostrils to caress my brain.
“Eh, can I have the Chateau Merlot… and a grilled cheese with tomatoes?” The combination drew a smile from me, and Sylvia gingerly set the menu back down to turn her watchful gaze to me.
“Sure. I’ll be right back.” I tucked the menu back in its box before making my way to the kitchen. Reaching to rub the back of my neck, I ran my hands upwards into my hair before pushing open the barrier. The smell of chicken wings and frying mozzarella sticks was the first thing to hit me, but it couldn’t overpower Sylvia’s scent.
“Todd! I need a grilled cheese with tomato.” My attention was stolen when my best friend poked his head out from behind a tall standing broiler oven. Todd’s sandy, ear length hair was held up by more than one ponytail, and the sight never failed to draw a chuckle from me. His long face looked gaunt with such a style, but he hated the shaggy hair in his eyes.
“Gotcha.” Only a grunt of an answer, Todd disappeared once again before I made my way to the wine refrigerator. It had ceased to amaze me long ago how I managed to get him to work here. There were so many other places he could’ve made a name for himself; he was an absolute genius in the kitchen, after all. Yet, here he was, his classic French training going to waste on bar food.
Shaking my head slightly as I grabbed a bottle of wine, I didn’t question it more.
Emerging from the kitchen, I couldn’t hear my own footfall over the noise of at least 60 people that were completely sloshed. Peering through the throng, my eyes narrowed before I caught sight of my sister and the other two waitresses that worked here. Lucy plastered a smile on her face, but I could see even from across the room that it was fake.
Pursing my lips together, my face twisted in displeasure. One of these days my one and only sibling would end up doing something to get fired. It was one thing to hate her job, but she made sure everyone knew it.
“A glass for the lady. Your sandwich should be ready in, like, 7 minutes or so.” Setting the wine glass down carefully in front of Sylvia, my hands came together as her slender fingers wrapped around the neck of the glass. Her heart shaped face rounded in a smile, and the animal that lurked in my subconscious perked up to catch a glimpse.
“So, what brings you to Ridgeville, Alaska?” It was a simple enough question, I thought. Sylvia took a long sip of her wine, passing the time as she figured out what to say. Everything flashed across her lovely face, and I narrowed my eyes as her expression fell.
“My great aunt left me a house up here. I came to try to sell it, but I didn’t realize it was so far out.” The dismay in Sylvia’s voice had a frown dragging at my lips as they tightened into a thin line. It wasn’t what she’d revealed that surprised me, though.
It was the quiet, sympathetic rumble my bear let out that reverberated like a quake between the plates of my skull. The entity that made me inhuman was stalwart, but rarely did he react to others suffering. Clenching my hands together, I let out a breath through my nose before deciding to open my mouth.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Sylvia. A bit of advice, though: you’re probably better off renting it than selling it. We get a lot of traffic through here from fishermen and hunters, especially with the salmon run starting up right now.” Even as I spoke my mind wandered slightly. The salmon run was my favorite time of the year. It was an opportunity to let my inner beast be a beast, and that kept him happy.
“I didn’t even think of that…” My thoughts were halted by Sylvia’s small words, and I shook my head slightly.
“Your aunt must’ve been an incredible woman to give you a house. You were close?” I could feel the drowning mood in the air around us, and Sylvia took another sip of her drink before letting out a heavy sigh. My gaze followed the movement, but her hand didn’t shake. Even such a sensitive subject couldn’t make her lose her cool. It was admirable, to say the least.
“We were as close as you’d expect. I saw her on Christmas and her birthday - things like that. After I graduated college and started working two years ago, we saw each other less and less, though.” From two feet away I felt the regret seeping from Sylvia’s pores, and I pursed my lips together. Deciding this was getting a bit too deep, I changed the subject even though my curiosity was thoroughly peaked.
“I’m sure she understood, especially if you’re in a field you love. How long are you planning to stay up here?” Sylvia sipped her drink daintily, and when the glass fell away from her face I was glad to see it wasn’t so drawn.
“Just until July. If I can’t sell the house, I might have to stay longer to find renters.” My bear perked up at that, ruffling his fur and tossing his head up and down. It was a sensation like air movement in the vast expanse of my consciousness, but without the air, of course. Smiling as Sylvia set her wine glass on a coaster, my human rationale worked furiously.
Glancing at the large, wood framed analog clock on the wall behind me, I pushed myself off the bar as hot energy pooled ointo my chest.
“I’ll go check your sandwich.” Only offering a nod, Sylvia turned to her purse before I started the short journey back to the kitchen. The smile on my face refused to drop, and I reached to scratch my beard as my mind worked.
One month- it wasn’t a long time. No- it was almost too little time. Almost.
Because it’s not every day that a potential mate comes waltzing into my bar.
Chapter Four: Sylvia
Curled up in the trunk of my car, my back protested with loud creaks as I turned and twisted. My hand flailed absently for my cell phone, but I was pretty much blind. Summoning the energy to open my eyes seemed beyond me even as the rest of my body wormed around.
After sleeping in my car what’d I expect? The rhetorical question made me groan before my fingers slid across glass.
7:42 in the morning. Dropping my phone, I let out a deep, hard sigh before bringing my fists to my eyes. The backlight had nearly scorched my retinas when I managed to crack my eyelids apart. Compared to the darkness around me, my phone’s light was blinding and only served to make me more miserable.
It was a distraction from my own thoughts, at least.
“Oh-h… I need some coffee…” My arms shook as I lifted myself to sit, and my fingers were weak as they combed through my bed head. “I should’ve asked Ryan if he was open for breakfast.”
At the memory of that giant, mountain of pure man, my cheeks blazed and my heart skipped in my chest. I wasn’t naive, and I certainly wasn’t a virgin. He was too handsome for any woman not to swoon over, but I had no regrets. Maybe it was the wine I’d had on such an empty stomach. What made it worse was that he knew he was handsome and never tried to step over ‘the line.’
Stretching out my legs and toes, I grimaced at my own decision. Cramps prickled up and down my legs, and my back ached something fierce. Grumbling to myself, I slowly picked up the pieces of my mind.
After a few minutes of sorting myself out, I climbed to the front of my car and dropped heavily in the driver’s seat. The air rushed from my lungs in a groan, and I draped my arms over the steering wheel. Stories about people going cross country and feeling perfectly comfortable sleeping in cars were overly embellished, I decided.
“How does anyone function without coffee…?” Driving slowly down the main street, my complaints echoed throughout the Jeep’s spacious interior. There was no way a person could wake up every day and not drink coffee. Nibbling on my bottom lip, I bit down as my free foot tapped against the rest that sat on the far left of the pedals. My fingers tightened on the wheel, and I glanced once again at my GPS through narrowed eyes. The thing had just spoken in its electronic female voice, but I was growing more and more impatient by the second.
I needed my coffee.
“This is my aunt’s… cabin…?” My squeak came out loud, and high pitched as I dipped my head to stare out the windshield. “Talk about unreliable information!”
The beautiful, large structure that stood majestically at the back end of town was nothing like I had envisioned. ‘Cabin’ had a certain ring to it, I knew, but this house was too glorified. It was bigger even than the house I’d grown up in, and my apartment could fit inside it three times, at least. Massive, beautiful oak trees shadowed the front of the house, but their leaves had yet to grow in. On either side of the wide driveway were stone walls that led all the way up the hundred feet or so to the front deck. Freshly stained a dark red, theplatform was gated in a low railing of the same color. The space between the spokes looked just small enough to keep a baby from crawling off the side.
It’s a vacation house meant for two dozen people- which was about exactly how many people were in my family. The thought shocked me, and I sucked in air through my teeth with a sharp whistle.
“Oh, Auntie Rachel…” Guilt instantly swamped my feelings of astonishment, and I flexed my fingers around the steering wheel. Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes, and my chest tightened to constrict my heart as it beat harder and harder.
I wasn’t close with my Aunt- not like I should’ve been. It was something I had regretted, and now that had only increased a hundred-fold.
My gaze hadn’t even landed on the actual house yet, but already doubt was seeping into the crevices of my brain. Everything was paid for; Auntie Rachel had set aside money for this place. It was enough for a lifetime of taxes and bills. Selling this house wasn’t just because I would never use it. I wanted the money she’d left behind with it because if there were no cabin, it would be released to me.
All the ideas I had about that sum, from saving it to going back to school, were suddenly out of reach.
“Wanting the money doesn’t make me a horrible person.” Trying to justify what I was doing only made my throat constrict further, but I shook my head violently. Auntie Rachel wouldn’t care about the house, but the things that happened inside it. She cares more about family than stuff and money. That’s why this house is here in the first place.
“Besides… she knew I wanted to go back to school. I would never ask her for money. I can make enough of it myself. She had to know I would rather sell this place.” The more I talked, the more nauseous I felt, so I just clamped my lips together. That didn’t stop the thoughts that swarmed me, though.
Jumping out of my car, I shoved my keys into my purse with a sinking feeling in my gut that I couldn’t shake. Casting my eyes on what stood beyond the porch, there was a tenseness that coiled tight between my shoulder blades. Soft green siding the color of young grass wrapped around the entire structure, and all of the window frames were painted sky blue. Only two stories, the house wasn’t nearly as tall as it was wide. Slated brown tiles clung to the roof, and the gutters were shiny and glistening in the sun.
“Someone must come take care of this house…” My aunt had died long enough ago that signs of wear and inattention would’ve been obvious by now. Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself up the stairs to the porch and frowned when they didn’t creak.
Now I regretted not taking up Auntie Rachel’s offer to come here for a summer. I was so busy with school and then work that I had always declined, no matter how politely. Even before graduating high school I spent my summers in programs, but now I could see that was a mistake.
Death really put things into perspective even if it was too late to change.
Inside the house was incomprehensibly stunning, and I stood at the threshold of the front door with my mouth touching the floor. Massive, rustic wooden beams served as walls and crisscrossed along the ceiling of the first floor. The open plan caused everything to come into view, but I turned to the kitchen first. I wasn’t talented with food, but even I could appreciate the marvel of the room. Gray and white marble coated the counters that stretched along three walls. The refrigerator still had its manufacture’s seal wrapped around its stainless-steel bulk. There wasn’t one, or even two, doors, but three, and even if I held out my arms as far as I could, my fingertips wouldn’t touch the hinges.
There wasn’t a single speck of dust in sight, and my gaze slid over a large island to the stove. It took up half the back wall, with twelve burners and five oven doors of varying sizes.
A lot of people were meant to be fed by this kitchen. The thought came with a wash of sadness, and it translated to a deep frown that spread across my face. My shoes were quiet against the dark stained hardwood that covered the floor as I shuffled to the living room.
Huge couches, even larger chairs, oversized bean bags, everything was arranged to make use of the space that was easily the size of my entire apartment. Soft carpet replaced the hardwood, but they were the same color, so it barely made a difference. The large sectional couches were not only long, but they had enough depth that only my feet would hang off the edge. Bean bags were scattered between the semi-circular sofas, and for the most part anyone in this room would be facing another person.
Everything looked brand new like it had never realized its purpose.
“Wow…” My voice crackled, and I blinked only to feel something wet drop down my cheek. Clenching my jaw together, I wiped away the stray tear, but it wasn’t the first. More fell as my throat closed, a thick lump blocking me from breathing. Behind my ribs, my heart pumped so furiously it hurt as if it was punishing me. Clutching my chest, my hand shook as I gasped for air.
Maybe I am horrible…
Chapter Five: Ryan
“Lucy, stop it. You’re not a kid anymore- you can’t hide your crappy attitude behind teenage angst.” The heated glare trained at my sister made my eyes burn with its intensity, and my lip curled up in distaste. Even now, at 24 years old, Lucy acted so immature I was almost ashamed to be related to her.
“But I don’t want to work tonight, Ryan. Come on, give me one day off.” I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes with a superhuman effort, and my arms folded over my chest. Every year we had the same problem. If I gave Lucy the day off, she’d complain about not getting paid for it. If I didn’t give her the day off, she’d complain about doing what little work is required to run beers to tables.
It was a no-win situation.
“You are working, and if you don’t come in tonight, you don’t come in at all, Lucy. There are plenty of young women that need experience in this town and wouldn’t give me nearly half the shit you do.” My declaration echoed across my hollow section of Main Street. We opened in an hour, and Lucy had only just come to me about wanting the night off. I had known this was coming; today marked a week now since the first day of summer. The excitement about working was wearing off, like the way a child was excited for school until he or she realized it sucked.
Lucy’s dark eyes blazed and her fists propped on her hips, but I held my ground. We had this fight every year, and every year she still showed up afterward. It was a good thing she took my threat seriously; I had no problem benching her permanently.
After a hot, tense stare down, my sister let out a hoarse groan and whirled around on her heel to stomp up the stairs. Once she was out of sight, the tension left my shoulders, and my hands fell to my sides. With a hard shake of my head, I let out a heavy sigh, my gaze falling to the multitude of glasses that still had to be cleaned.
My body moved robotically to wipe each tumbler and shot glass while my mind wandered off. It was an annoying habit I’d picked up lately as all my thoughts centered around one person.
Sylvia. After that first night, she came back to the bar four times, always ordering something rather large to eat. It bothered me to think that she was only eating when she strolled in anywhere between 7 and 8 p.m.; the meals were big enough to compensate for an entire day. Staring into space as I cleaned shot glasses, I pursed my lips together as my inner beast growled disapprovingly.
“At least she got a good realtor.” I mumbled as I set down one glass to pick up another. I only knew this because Sylvia had come in and told me all about her trip to Anchorage. Her drive hadn’t been as bad as the one up here; the realtor was very friendly and understood her circumstance. Usually I wouldn’t even listen to that kind of blabbing, but she just looked so pleased with how the trip had gone. It was impossible to ignore the one hundred watt smile she wore.
But that was the extent of our interactions. I never saw Sylvia outside the bar, and there were two excellent reasons why. Number one- the bar was open until 3 a.m., and I slept until prep time unless my bear woke me up demanding I shift. Number two- I didn’t want to come off as creepy even though I was very aware of the fact that an entire week had passed. Sylvia didn’t know me; I was just the man that worked the bar. Showing up at her house was some next level interest that I had to beat down.
The soft tinkling of the door chime broke me from my thoughts, and my head whipped towards the sound. I expected to see one of the other girls that worked here, but instead my eyes landed on Sylvia’s curvaceous form. Her blue eyes were duller than I remembered, and there were big, dark circles under her eyes.
A small, almost sad smile lifted her lips, and I let go of my burden as she wandered over to sit directly in front of me.
“You okay? I got coffee if you want some.” Arching an eyebrow as Sylvia dropped her head into her arms, my lips twitched up. She hadn’t even bothered to tie up her long, curling waves, and her shirt completely disappeared under her locks.
“No… No coffee… I already had coffee- lots and lots of coffee… I spent all night going through the stuff in the attic. My arms are going to fall off.” Part of me was glad Sylvia had something in her house; she probably went to a SAM’s Club when she was in Anchorage. Another part of me was kind of annoyed at how she was working herself. Leaning on my elbows, I scratched my jaw and ruffled my beard a little before dropping my chin into my palm.