Chaser Page 4

  "Jesus. I knew you couldn't stay nice about her for long." She frowned. "Look, I understand now why you're a bit freaked out by babies and pregnancy. But that doesn't mean you get to be a jerk about her."

  "What are you talking about?" I demanded. "I'm being totally normal about it. Her."

  "So you're just a jerk in general?"

  I closed my eyes. "That seems to be the general opinion, yes."

  "If I believed that, I'd leave your drunk ass alone on this bed."

  But she didn't leave. I could feel her presence next to me. I sighed. "Thanks for not leaving. Even though I remind you of him. Christ, that sucks."

  "I shouldn't have said that, I'm sure you wouldn't--"

  "But I did," I interrupted. "You were going to say that you were sure I wouldn't bail on my responsibilities, right?"

  She said nothing.

  "That is exactly what I did, Jean. No need to be polite about it," I said. "I'm an asshole."

  Silence.

  "Under different circumstances, I'd definitely be hitting on you right now."

  "Well, some credit goes to the baby with regards to that. Her presence making me less available to your romantic overtures."

  "My romantic overtures?" I asked with a lazy smile. "Who says that?"

  "I do. It's the polite way of saying playing naked." The laughter in her voice would have gotten one hell of a reaction from me if I hadn't had so much to drink.

  "We would have had fun together."

  "You think so?"

  "I know so."

  "You're that good, huh?"

  Eyelids closed, I smiled some more. "Our chemistry is that good."

  "Hmm."

  "You know when you meet someone and there's just that feeling?"

  She didn't respond.

  "It's like it's fate. There's just that zap in the air and you know it's got to happen eventually. And when it does, it's going to be spectacular." I opened one eye, beyond pleased to see her trying to hide a smile. "Right, Jean?"

  "Wrong."

  I just waited.

  "It's definitely not happening between us under current circumstances, so what does chemistry matter?" She wriggled a little, getting comfortable, and avoiding looking at me in the process. "Close your eyes, Eric, go to sleep. I'm not babysitting your drunk ass forever."

  "I appreciate you being here," I mumbled.

  "Couldn't very well leave you all alone in the depths of your alcohol-induced despair."

  "Funny, normally I'm trying to get rid of a woman by this time," I said. "Not begging one to stay."

  She just shook her head. "So not happening for so many reasons."

  "And you are beautiful."

  The woman looked to heaven. "Sober or drunk, you are full of it. You get that, right?"

  "I get that I'm right. Yes."

  "Puh-lease. I'm okay looking."

  "You're fucking gorgeous."

  "Does that include my belly?"

  I cleared my throat. "Sure."

  "Real believable." She laughed. "Go to sleep."

  "Fine. Doubt me, I don't care." I puffed up my pillow, settling in for the night. Morning. Whatever the hell time it was. My buzz was starting to wear thin, tiredness kicking in. "'Night, Jean."

  "'Night, Eric."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Karen arrived ten minutes late in a tight skirt. Her long hair hung loose and her sweater top hung off her bare shoulder. I'd always heartily approved of her belief in showing plenty of skin. No matter the chill in the night air, here she was with those long legs. It'd been a month since Jean sat by my bedside while I fell asleep, drunk off my ass. Not my finest moment. In the meantime, our paths hadn't really crossed. I'd been busy and I guess she had too. As for dealing with Nell and everyone else's low opinion of me, I had a plan.

  "All right, I'm here." She paused, flashing a megawatt smile at the man on the other side of the bar. "Hey, Vaughan."

  "Hi, Karen, how are you doing?"

  "Great! How's your music going?"

  "Good." The tattooed redheaded musician gave her a polite smile. "Played some gigs over in Montana last week."

  Like just about everyone else in this town, we'd all known each other for years. Vaughan and I had been tight in high school, but shit had gone south after graduation. We were getting on okay these days. Despite him also settling down and getting serious about everything. He and Lydia had been engaged for a year or two now. I didn't know what the holdup was on the wedding. He worked in the bar when he wasn't off playing guitar. I don't know if it was wise, but we'd pretty much wound up with most of our staff being old friends.

  "Ready to head upstairs?" Karen asked, stepping closer. Her arm brushed against my chest and the open invitation in her eyes almost made me rethink my plan.

  Like I might have mentioned, we were very friendly. But only in a certain mutually beneficial way at times suitable to both of us. Usually. Still, if I was going to try dating someone, I figured it wouldn't hurt to know ahead of time if that someone and I got along between the sheets. Plus Karen was available. She was between boyfriends, so, win/win. A nice, good-looking local girl who enjoyed fucking. A strong starting point if ever there was one.

  With the goal of a relationship in mind, I quashed out the rising surge of lust. It wasn't easy, given Karen's inviting eyes, and the fact that it had been a while since I'd last hooked up. Almost a whole week. But I ignored my simpler urges and focused on the plan.

  "Actually, I was thinking we could sit down for a while first," I said, leading her to a candlelit table in the corner.

  Her pert nose wrinkled. "You want to sit down?"

  "Sure. Why not?"

  Apparently there were a lot of reasons why this was a bad idea, because she took a deep breath and opened her mouth to start in on them.

  I got there first, however. "We've been friends a long time, Karen."

  "Yes, but--"

  "It occurred to me that we've never really just hung out together."

  She blinked.

  "You know, had a drink, and talked and stuff." I pulled out her chair, being the perfect gentleman. That'd show Nell. And you could bet she was in the kitchen right now watching ... judging. Lydia too, most likely.

  "You want to talk?" Karen plonked down in the seat, wrinkles lining her usually smooth forehead. "What about?"

  I took my seat opposite. "Ah, well. Anything really. How's your work going?"

  "The diner's fine."

  "Great." I nodded. "And your family?"

  "Fine."

  Oh shit, what to ask her about next? It struck me I actually didn't know anything about her family, which made it hard to figure out a follow-up question. Equally though, it seemed a bit awkward to admit that, after the years we'd known each other, I didn't even know if her parents were local or if she had siblings.

  The long line of her throat rippled as Karen swallowed and came to my rescue. "Um, how are your parents?"

  "Good, thanks. They're actually on vacation in Hawaii right now."

  "Lovely."

  "Yeah. Mom's been looking forward to it for a long time."

  "Right. Wonderful." She paused.

  I was stuck for a conversation topic again. Damn it. Dating was harder than it looked. Normally I only ever had real conversations with our close-knit little group. Apart from that, I just flirted with the ladies, which was a game I knew well.

  Hopefully Rosie would come take our order soon. Alcohol as a social lubricant could only help.

  "Everything's okay with this place?" Karen saved the conversation again. She was clearly better at this than I was. Thank God somebody knew what they were doing.

  "Absolutely," I said. "The bar side of things is running smoother than ever. Nell and Lydia have been sourcing more local organic produce to feature on the seasonal menu."

  "Mm."

  "Things are ... good."

  We both let our gazes wander, taking in the room. The Dive Bar was only half full, what with it being e
arly in the week. Depeche Mode was playing. Lydia must be in charge of the music. We each took turns to keep things fair. Boyd's headbanger shit could be a little hard to handle, however, so we only gave him an hour or two a week.

  Fingers fussing with the napkin, I slumped my shoulders, trying to loosen up. It wouldn't do to let anyone know how on edge I was. Jesus, it wasn't like I'd never met a woman for a drink before. But it had never been with a view toward anything long-term. Wonder when I should broach the subject of her and me being something serious.

  "Have you ever eaten here?" I asked finally, winning at conversation. Someone ought to give me a gold star. Or a cookie. Or a drink. A drink would be nice. Where was Rosie to take our order?

  "No, I haven't."

  "Now that's a damn shame. We need to fix that pronto."

  A hint of a smile curved the edge of her lips. "People tell me the food's delicious."

  I outright grinned, always pleased to hear good feedback. "It is."

  "A lot pricier than the diner, though."

  "Well, it's a different kind of dining experience."

  Nothing from her.

  "You know?"

  All expression had fallen from her face. "No, I don't believe I do."

  "Don't get me wrong, the diner does great basics," I said. "Your pancakes in particular. Man, I could eat a truckload of those things and still come back for more. They are superb."

  "Basics?"

  I shrugged. "Yeah."

  "And you're what? Gourmet I suppose?"

  Damn. "Well..."

  "Just because you cover your pizzas in arugula and other fancy shit doesn't make you better than us, Eric."

  "I don't think we're better than you." Though I did really. The Dive Bar was a work of art. In comparison, the diner had all the style and atmosphere of a hot dog stand. "Calm down."

  "Not everyone wants to hang out with hipsters."

  "Hey, now. We're not--"

  "Whatever," she snapped, obviously done with this line of conversation. Which was fine with me, given I didn't want to get into a fight about the relative merits of our workplaces. "Is this food you're talking about going to come soon? I've only got an hour before I'm meeting a friend at the gym."

  "You're meeting someone else tonight?"

  "In an hour, yes." She nodded. "So every minute we spend sitting here is one minute that we're not..." Her voice trailed off suggestively.

  I smiled. And then remembered that screwing her was not the goal here. "Maybe we should just enjoy a nice meal now and reschedule for a time later this week?"

  "I don't want to reschedule," she retorted. "If you're not in the mood, then whatever. But did it even occur to you to call me and let me know that you wanted to change things up?"

  "No." I shrugged. "I figured you'd be pleasantly surprised. Chicks dig romantic dinners. Everyone knows that."

  "Funnily enough, women aren't that big on being called chicks."

  "Right," I said. "My mistake."

  She crossed her arms, glaring at me.

  "So, who are you meeting at the gym?" I asked. "Anyone I know?"

  "One of the girls from work."

  "Great." Fake smiling made my cheeks ache. "What else do you do when you're not working or hitting the gym?"

  "When the weather's good I like to go hiking and I help out with a youth group at the church," she said. "I visit friends and I'm also a member of a knitting group. Right now we're working on blankets for the children's ward at the hospital."

  "Wow."

  "Grandpa has chronic arthritis so I often hop over to his place to help out. Make some meals for him or just hang out and watch documentaries. He loves that English guy, David Attenborough." She stared off at nothing. "And I watch my nephews some nights so my brother and his wife can go out."

  "Huh. You really do a lot."

  She shrugged. "I keep busy. What about you?"

  "I work here of course." I nodded, trying to think of what else apart from women occupied my time. Something that would compare to Karen's achievements. "Yeah, a lot of the time you can find me here at the bar. Really just ... working, you know?"

  "And?" she asked, eyes glazing over.

  "Okay. Well, I hang out with friends."

  Nothing from her.

  "Yeah." Shit. "Oh, often Joe and I go jogging. There's that too."

  "Uh-huh."

  And all conversation ground to a halt once again. We both just stared at each other while all around us the world carried on. Music played and people talked. People who actually had a lot to say to each other, I guess.

  Karen set her hands to the edge of the table. "This isn't working."

  "No, this is great."

  "Eric, we've been bumping hips on and off for years and you've never felt the need to ask me a personal question," she pointed out. "Why now?"

  I raised my chin. "Better late than never, right?"

  "Wrong."

  "But--"

  "Enough, I have to go." The woman jumped to her feet in exasperation, making her chair skid back noisily, drawing plenty of attention. "I knew this was a bad idea. We have sex sometimes, Eric. That's all. We don't talk."

  "But we could!" I stood up as well, just trying to usher her back to sitting. We could at least do this without causing a scene.

  Her whole face screwed up. "What we have is just fine."

  "Sure, yeah. I just thought..."

  "What? You thought what?"

  "Well, don't you want maybe something more?"

  "No, Eric. God, do I have to spell it out?" Her gaze zeroed in on me. "We're boring each other stupid. And even if we did have stuff to talk about, I don't want a guy like you for a boyfriend. In a couple of days, you'd have changed your mind, gotten distracted or whatever. You're just not boyfriend material."

  And with that, she stormed out. Awesome.

  Meanwhile, Rosie stood nearby with her pen and pad in hand. Because more witnesses to my humiliation would just be wonderful. The shit Karen had said echoed round and round inside my head. How wrong could one woman be? Just because she crocheted socks for orphans or whatever. I could totally be a decent boyfriend. With a little practice.

  "Bit too late for that," I said, nodding at her order pad and slumping back down into my chair.

  "Sorry." Her mouth skewed, dark skin glowing in the candlelight. "Date didn't go so well?"

  "What gave it away?" I growled.

  "Being an ass to me will help you how, exactly?"

  "Sorry, Rosie." I slipped my hand underneath my long hair, rubbing at my neck. "Maybe they're right. Maybe I am just shit at this and everything else."

  She sighed and took the newly vacant seat opposite me. "Nell's been at you again, huh?"

  I didn't even bother to answer.

  "I thought she'd eased up since you started turning up for your shifts on time."

  "She did. A little."

  "You know, she loves you, Eric," she said. "You're like family to her. She just has a difficult way of showing it."

  "Like ripping into me?" I slouched back in the chair. "Bitch of it is that everyone agrees with her. They all treat me like I'm the idiot child obsessed with pussy."

  "So prove them wrong. If it bothers you, do something about it."

  My forehead wrinkled.

  "Though changing just to prove someone else wrong is kind of stupid," she said, chewing at her bottom lip. "You have to want to do it for your own happiness."

  "Fuck. I don't know what I want."

  "Well, are you happy?"

  "I thought I was, until everyone kept pointing out how crappy I am," I said.

  Rosie might have been the same age as me, but she'd been married for years and had about three dozen children or something. Don't ask me how she managed it all. If anyone was going to give me advice worth listening to, however, it would likely be her. So I stayed put. Nearby, Lydia handed out meals to a table while Vaughan stayed busy at the bar.

  "You could keep cruising along," she said. "W
orking here, picking up women, and spending all of your money on nice clothes."

  "Hey," I objected. "I paid my brother back the money I owed him. Downgraded from a very sweet muscle car to a piece of shit to do it too."

  "Good for you."

  "There's nothing wrong with wanting to look presentable." With a hand, I smoothed out the creases on my plain white button-down. Designer, of course. Quality mattered. Some fuckers wouldn't know good design and fabric if it smacked them in the face. "I stick to my budget. Lydia helped me work one out a while back."

  "That's great. Very adult of you."

  "Why thank you."

  For a minute, she mused this over, staring at me. "Do you want to know what I think?"

  "No one else holds back. Why the hell should you?"

  She gave me a mysterious smile. Like she knew everything, while I knew nothing. I could have pretty much already told her that.

  "There's no such thing as becoming an adult. It's all a state of mind," she said, leaning closer across the table. "You never reach some magical age and go ... oh my god, I'm so adult. I couldn't be more grown-up if I tried."

  I chuckled. "No?"

  "Nope."

  "How does this whole life thing work then, oh wise woman?"

  "You get your shit together and meet your responsibilities," she said.

  "Huh."

  "A century ago, everyone knew how they were expected to behave and if you stepped over the line, that was it. You were out. But things are different now." She stared me down, gaze deadly serious. "People are more open minded, mostly. Though quite a few could do with a healthy dose of personal growth and empathy in my opinion. But we have so many options, there's so many things we could do with our lives. Honestly, it can get a little confusing."

  I kept my mouth shut because she wasn't wrong.

  "Be kind and if you say you're going to do something, make sure you do it." She sat back in the chair, crossing her arms over her chest. "Do with that what you will."

  "Basically, don't be an asshole and pay my bills on time?"

  "Yep."

  "And that's the path to happiness?" I asked.

  Rosie frowned. "Not exactly. That's probably the path to getting everyone off your back, though. As for all the ladies..."

  "Sex is a perfectly normal and healthy pastime."

  "True. But you should respect the women you sleep with."

  "Come on, I do," I complained.

  "Do you really?"

  "Yes." I waved an arm at the door my date had just exited. "As Karen just demonstrated."

  "The girl who stormed out in a huff just demonstrated you respect women?" Her eyebrows arched. "How do you figure that?"