Discreet by Nicole French

14

Curly’s was full of people, most of them clustered around the bar and a few meandering around the dance floor while the band, a Tim McGraw knock-off, started their set. It was the usual crowd gathered from the neighboring lakes and Post Falls, the nearest proper town. The bar itself was nothing special—an old log cabin that had a permanent stage set up at one end and a long bar on the other, with worn vinyl booths rolling down the sides toward the stage while waitresses zigzagged between them.

I spotted Lucas and his group almost immediately crowded around a booth near the stage. A few people were familiar from the other night at the inn: Lucas’s younger sister, Katie, and her boyfriend, as well as Lindsay, the blonde girl, who was already staring daggers at me. There were some I recognized from high school, along with other faces from the past.

Lucas found me and raised his hand, his eyes bright and warm until he caught sight of who was behind me.

“Looks like Ranger Rick spotted us,” Will grumbled, and I chuckled in spite of myself. Between his buttoned-up polo and curved baseball hat, Lucas did kind of look like a Boy Scout.

“Be nice,” I chided, but the joke faded when I looked over my shoulder. Will’s face was tight as he glanced around the room, with two lines clear across his forehead. He had tied his hair up walking in, and as he examined the bar, he reached up automatically to tug it back down.

“Oh, please don’t,” I said without thinking.

He froze mid-pull, and his eyes unerringly found mine.

“I just…” I swallowed. Shit. “I like seeing your face, Will.”

His eyes didn’t waver, and for a second, the cacophony of the room faded slightly, almost as if we were the only ones in it. I swallowed again.

Finally, Will blinked, re-fixed the knot, and dropped his hand. “You win, Lily pad,” he mumbled with a slight quirk of his mouth and immediately grabbed my hand. “Don’t let go, remember?”

I kept my promise as I guided Will toward the booth, past a sea of flannel, cowboy boots, and a lot of whisker-faded jeans.

“Hey, guys.” I greeted everyone with a weak wave. “We, um, made it. This is Will—he’s a neighbor on Newman.”

We listened as everyone announced their names—the girls openly perused Will, clearly noticing the way his shirt clung to his tall, lean form, and the way his legs filled out his jeans in just the right way. The guys were a bit cagier, checking out the stranger invading their turf. Will certainly cut an imposing form, with shoulders that filled out your average doorframe and a face with an immovable scowl.

Lucas’s eyes latched onto our joined hands, but I didn’t move. Instead, I tipped my chin up as Will squeezed my hand even tighter, though he remained firmly behind me.

“Hey,” he said to everyone with a weak wave. “Nice to meet you.”

“Sit down,” Lucas said, gesturing at a few open seats at the end of the table. “Lindsay got us a pitcher.”

“Do you want some?” Lindsay’s kind tone was clearly pointed at Will, not me.

I sat down on the end of the booth while Will took a seat next to me.

“I waitress here sometimes,” Lindsay added proudly, as if waiting tables at Curly’s was a prize position. And to be honest, in some ways it was. She probably made good tips and got to listen to decent music. The way some of the guys at the table were eying the other waitresses circulating the room, it was clear that they had a bit of a reputation.

I shook my head at her offer just as Will nodded his assent.

“Do you mind?” he asked as he accepted a glass from Lindsay.

“Boooo,” Lindsay jeered from her spot next to Lucas. She latched onto his arm and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Are you one of those teetotalers who glares at anyone who drinks? You’re no fun.”

I gave a tight smile. “It’s just a personal preference. I don’t mind if other people drink.”

Lucas nodded. He knew that was my line. Though most of the old friends here knew who my mom was—to be honest, most of the people in this bar probably knew who Ellie Sharp was—Lucas was the only one who really knew what her choices meant for me. How often she had allowed her daughter to fend for herself, sometimes against the people she brought home.

Back then, Lucas wouldn’t have drunk at all, but now I watched him eagerly refill his glass. Will examined his beer for a second, looking back and forth between it and me before leaving it on the coaster.

And for some reason, something inside me shifted at that decision.

“Hey,” I whispered in his ear. “I really don’t mind if you want to have a beer or two. Honest. Especially if it will help you relax a little.”

He turned, and suddenly I was very aware of our close proximity. Shoved together by the crowded conditions of the booth, I could see clearly the way the long sweep of his eyelashes brushed golden across his cheekbones when he blinked, examine the tiny row of stress lines in between his strong brows, smell that unique scent of his, tinged with soap and deodorant. The memory of his taste flooded back. Without thinking, I licked my lower lip. His green eyes, flecked with gold, darkened and dilated.

“Relax,” Will said hoarsely. “Okay.”

With substantial effort, I turned back to the group, who were all merrily chatting with one another except for Lucas, who was watching me and Will with a stony face. He caught my eye, then deliberately lifted one arm up and set it around Lindsay’s shoulders. She started at the surprise, but happily nuzzled into him. How do you like that? Lucas’s expression clearly seemed to say. I shrugged. I honestly couldn’t care less who he was involved with. I just didn’t like Microaggressive Barbie period, whether or not she was dating Lucas.

“You know, you look kind of familiar,” Lindsay said to Will, who immediately froze, beer glass at his mouth. “Have you been to the bar before?”

Will set his glass down at the table and stared fixedly at it. “Ah, no. I’m more of a homebody.”

Lucas snorted. “More like a hermit,” he said, earning a glare from me. Will said nothing.

“No, that’s not it,” Lindsay said. She tapped an acrylic nail on the tabletop. “It’s something else. Hey, Kel, don’t you think he looks familiar?”

She nudged the girl next to her, pulling her out of a conversation with the other two guys. Kelly looked over Will with Lindsay. In my lap, Will’s hand squeezed mine so tightly I thought my circulation might cut off.

“You guys,” I said. “Give the poor guy a rest. He just got here.”

“See?” Lucas said. “He’s nobody.”

“I’m nobody,” Will murmured and squeezed my fingers again when Lindsay and the girls started chatting about some celebrity gossip they had read that day.

“No, you’re not,” I said, so low that only he could hear me. “Not to me.”

His eyes met mine once more and softened. “Thanks, Lil,” he said softly, and again, there was that strange quirk of the mouth that seemed to be reserved only for me.

“What’s Ellie up to tonight, Mags?” Lucas asked, pulling my attention back across the table after the waitress dropped off my water.

I took a long drink. “Um, she’s at home tonight.”

Lucas gave me a warm smile. “Quiet night in?” Understanding shone out of his open face—he knew what that would mean to me.

I nodded. “As quiet as it ever is with her, you know.”

“Wait a minute, Ellie? Do you mean Ellie Sharp?”

I looked back at Lindsay, who had realization suddenly dawning over her vapid face. I should have known that eventually it would come to this. Mama was a regular at Curly’s, and since Lindsay worked here, she would probably know her, just like the rest of the staff who would call me at closing time to pick her up.

“Oh my God!” Lindsay exclaimed. “That’s your mom? You poor thing! No wonder you had to come back to Spokane. She needs help, Maggie, she really does.”

I just studied my water glass. Lindsay had clearly had a few too many—she had that glazed-eyed look I knew so well. There was no reason to respond.

“What is she talking about?” Will asked quietly.

“Her mom is a fall-down drunk,” Lindsay said sloppily, oblivious to the irony of her statement when she was already slurring her words herself.

“What?” Will said sharply, calling the attention of a few other people at the table.

“Lindsay,” Lucas spoke up sharply, but she ignored him too.

“Hey, if it walks like a duck, you know?” The girl had no filter. The table had gone quiet, and I shrank, unable to escape. “Kel, remember the other night when we had to call a taxi for that lady, the one with the crazy brown hair? The one who kept falling off her bar stool? That’s this girl’s mom!”

Will pushed his beer away slightly and straightened beside me. Now I was the one squeezing his hand. I wanted to be literally anywhere else but here, reminded again of all the reasons why I had wanted to leave in the first place. But in the end, I had gone from being Ellie Sharp’s daughter to Theo del Conte’s girlfriend and back again, and neither had served me well.

A part of me wondered if there would ever be a point in my life when I didn’t belong to someone else. When people would just see me as myself?

“Seriously, though,” Lindsay was saying after she regaled the group with the latest embarrassing thing my mother had done. “How could you just leave her here? You must know she has a problem. What kind of daughter are you?”

“Lindsay!” Lucas’s face was starting to turn red.

But I was done. “I guess that makes me a bad daughter,” I said. “Just like calling you a bitch probably makes me a bad friend. Sorry, Lucas.”

Lucas just shook his head while the rest of the group’s mouths dropped. I rubbed my head, bracing myself for the utter onslaught that was about to come at me and trying to think of a reason to leave. This was a bad idea. Coming back here at all was a bad idea.

But before Lindsay could start her retort, there was a loud screech of the chair next to me. The booth silenced, all eyes on Will as he stood up tall and re-extended his hand to me.

“Lil,” he called my nickname clearly, his green eyes bright in the dimly lit room. “Wanna dance?”

It was the same hand that had been holding mine since we left his truck. Across the table, Lindsay’s jaw fell open, and Lucas frowned. But I barely noticed, captured instead by the strong, serious face of a man who had held me in his thrall since pretty much the moment I’d met him.

I smiled, the first one that night that felt genuine and true.

“I’d love to,” I said as I let him pull me out of the booth and onto the dance floor where a few couples were already starting to sway back and forth to the slow country songs the band issued.

“Thanks,” I said as he slipped a big hand around my waist.

Will pulled me to his torso, moving naturally, if slowly, in time with the sweet, easy rhythm the boys were playing. “Don’t think about it,” he said. “It was the least I could do. You don’t need to listen to that shit.”

I didn’t respond, just pressed my nose into the soft cotton sleeve of his shirt and inhaled. He smelled so good. Enough to make me forget that I wasn’t in any shape to be smelling a man to begin with. Enough to make me forget that most of what Lindsay had said wasn’t shit—it was true.

“She does deserve better than me,” I said quietly.

“Who? Lindsay?”

I shook my head, keeping my face pressed into the cotton. “My mom. I—I should have told you about her. Everything, I mean. So you’d know what you were really getting involved in. I’m sorry.”

Will’s finger slid under my chin and tipped my face up so that I was looking directly at him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Lily pad,” he said. “Especially not to some sorry chick who has to shit all over someone else’s life to make herself feel good.”

“But—”

“Nothing.” Will’s hand fell away, but my chin stayed in place. His eyes dropped to my lips and back up. “You can’t cure an addict, Lil. They can only cure themselves. I learned that the hard way.”

Before I could open my mouth to ask just what he meant by that, another voice jolted the conversation.

“Can I cut in?”

Will and I both turned to find Lucas standing next to us, eying me remorsefully.

I raised an eyebrow. “Won’t your date be a little jealous there?”

Will snorted.

Lucas rolled his eyes. “Lindsay’s just a friend. And what she said was messed up. I’m here to make peace.” He glanced at Will with more than a hint of disdain. “You all right if I steal ‘your girl’ for a second?” He sneered as he said it, like the idea of me being with Will was a huge joke.

But Will didn’t argue. He just stepped back, his hands held out to the sides. “Be my guest. She’s not my girl.”

I swallowed and allowed Lucas to slip a familiar arm around me, burying the sharp, painful twinge of Will’s quick dismissal. He was right, of course. I wasn’t his girl—this wasn’t even a real date, as much as it had felt like one up until now. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Lucas turned me to face the other direction, pulling me a little closer as we moved around with the other couples. It was a familiar stance. One we’d taken many times at school dances and backyard barbecues, many years before. Familiar, but lifeless.

“I’m sorry about what Lindsay said tonight,” he said. “When she gets a few drinks in her, she kind of runs off at the mouth.”

I shrugged. I didn’t know what to say about that. All it meant was that deep down, Lindsay was a bitch who just managed to hide it when she was sober.

“And I’m sorry about the other night too,” Lucas continued. “I…I’d had a few myself. I just…well, I missed you, Mags. We all have. But I don’t want to mess up our friendship. Not when we’re just getting you back.”

I looked up, worried I’d find that look in his eyes again—that desire, that entitlement to me that had sent me running. But there was nothing but hope and kindness—the same old Lucas I’d always known.

“I’ll always be your friend,” I told him with a smile. “I’m not that easy to get rid of.”

He grinned, the movement shifting his broad face pleasantly. “Good,” he said as he pulled me closer.

We continued dancing, and I tried to ignore it as Lucas kept me aligned with him, chest to chest. It was friendly, I supposed, but also intimate. Maybe too intimate, despite what he’d said. His hand stroked my lower back, and he turned us again. Over his shoulder, I caught Will sitting against the wall with his arms crossed tightly. He was ignoring the chatter at the table, facing mostly away from them while his beer sat untouched. His focus was entirely on me.

His eyes flared when Lucas’s hand drifted a little lower to rest at the small of my back, and his fist clenched under his elbow. But when he realized I was watching him back, he softened. He blinked, then stood up.

“You okay?” he mouthed across the room, and even from this distance, I understood.

Lucas’s hand drifted even lower, his palm curving over the top of my backside. Immediately, I had flashbacks from high school. The graze of fingers where they shouldn’t quite be. The small, almost subconscious fear of what would happen if I encouraged it, even though part of me wanted to. The bigger fear if I didn’t.

And this time, I didn’t want it. Not at all. I didn’t feel that way about Lucas anymore—hadn’t for years. We were so young when we were together. We were different people now. At least, I was definitely different, and in ways he could never really understand.

My eyes widened at Will. Help me, I telegraphed. What else could I do? I’d already come close to burning bridges with Lucas once before, and he was one of my oldest friends. A scene in the middle of this bar, with all of his friends present, would probably set that fire all over again.

But before I could figure out how to extricate myself delicately, Will was already striding through the crowd, his tall form cutting an immediate path until he was able to interrupt us just as the song came to a close.

“I’d like to continue that dance now,” he said. It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even a request.

Lucas didn’t bother hiding his irritation.

“Mags?” he asked. I wiggled, but the hand at my waist still hadn’t moved.

“S-sure,” I said stepping toward Will. “It would be rude not to, I think.”

Lucas huffed, but finally released me. Will tugged me into his side. I shouldn’t have, but I relaxed as his fresh, woodsy scent washed over me again. This grouchy, infuriating man shouldn’t have felt this comfortable. This right. But he did.

Will began leading me through the dance, giving me space to lose myself a bit in the music and the laughter. He was a surprisingly good dancer. Not many men our age were, and he was actually able to lead in time with the music. Nothing Will did was particularly fancy, but his steps were confident, the pressure on my back and at my wrist sure.

Some things don’t ever go away. The way I listened to the music was instinctual, testing the pitch or the pacing as natural as breathing. It was hard not to cringe as I noted a particular change the band made, or whether or not I thought they used the right picking pattern. I had even played a few songs with these guys back in high school, back when they were playing mostly in their garages and at backyard parties. I’d been relegated to backup singer most of the time because I didn’t have the “right sound” for their band, though I had wondered if it was also because I had a tendency to correct their mistakes too often.

But in the end, my perfectionism hadn’t gotten me anywhere. They were the ones on the stage, and I was the one in the audience. They were up there, playing with aplomb. I was the one with my tail between my legs, licking my wounds because I still couldn’t stand to look at a guitar.

“You okay?”

Will’s deep voice pulled me out of my gloom. I blinked and found him watching me. He continued to sway us in time to the music. His face was as stoic as ever, but those deep green eyes of his were open. Their usual hardness lessened somehow.

I gave a weak smile. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I’m shocked you haven’t bolted yet.”

He didn’t return the smile. Will, I was finding, wasn’t one for social pretense.

He didn’t answer my comment, just continued moving me around, though I noticed he kept his eyes securely trained on some part of me. My face, my neck, my collarbone. I was the absolute center of his focus.

I closed my eyes for a second. “It’s just feeling a little crowded here at the moment.” At that, one blond brow rose, and I chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, I get the joke. I just…” I shrugged. “I used to play with this band back in high school. I guess I was thinking about the irony. That they’re up there, and I’m down here. And feeling a little disappointed with myself.”

Will didn’t hug me or tell me it was going to be okay. Instead, he continued to sway us back and forth, letting me digest my own emotions, though he did so without moving his gaze. His solid, immovable presence was an odd comfort. It was good to know that whatever melancholy I was feeling, he wasn’t going anywhere.

“It’s okay,” I said a few moments later. “I’m okay.”

I could feel my friends staring at me—Lucas most of all—but I didn’t turn to look. I didn’t want to see Lucas’s disapproving stare, Lindsay’s obnoxious scowl, or anyone else’s reaction. I needed something else to focus on, and Will was providing it in spades.

The band launched into a lazy three-four meter, and on cue, Will’s big hand slipped firmly up my back and pulled me closer as he launched into a waltz in time with the other couples on the floor. He even turned me a few times, although it was clear after a couple minutes that both of us would be more comfortable close, cocooned in our own small world, away from prying eyes.

“You’re a good dancer,” I remarked as Will led me through another turn. “Will Baker can waltz. I wouldn’t have thought it.”

Will rolled his eyes and smirked, and I was struck again how just a bit of lightness changed the entire landscape of his face.

“I had to learn once for—for a job,” he said. “We, um, had an event.”

His face shuttered with the recollection, but I grinned, trying to pull him out of it.

“Well, you’ve got some moves, Baker. You’re no Fred Astaire, but I’m pleasantly surprised.”

I was granted another delicious eye roll, but this close, I could see a dimple under his beard when that side quirked. Smile, I willed him, but after a second, the dimple disappeared. His head brushed my cheek as he hovered over my shoulder.

A shiver ran down my arm. Again, I wanted desperately to see what he looked like completely without the beard. Some men wore them naturally, a normal extension of their faces, their personalities. Will, on the other hand, wore his like a mask. As good as he looked in it, there was something about his facial hair that seemed unnatural on him.

“Will?” I asked. Suddenly, speaking was difficult.

“What, Lily pad?”

I pulled back so I could look at him. “Why did you run off the other night?”

His shoulders tensed for a moment, then dropped. “I don’t know.”

“Liar,” I replied softly.

There it was again—that slight quirk of his mouth. His eyes dropped to my mouth, and another shiver flew down my spine. That moment at the top of the hill came flying back to me—the voraciousness of his mouth, his hands, his entire body pressed against me in the dark.

He sucked his upper lip between his teeth for a moment, gradually letting it go while he continued to stare at my lips.

“Will,” I whispered.

We were barely moving at this point, oscillating in the smallest ways to the music.

“Lily,” he replied, just as low.

“When are you going to kiss me again?”

There was another long pause. And then, just when I thought he wasn’t going to answer:

“Is that what you really want?”

The sparks that always seemed to be flickering in his eyes flamed, but he didn’t turn that deep gaze away. And for once, I found it hard to speak. But only because I realized I wanted it so badly, I could barely breathe.

“Y-yes,” I stuttered, breathy and choked. Then, more assuredly: “Yes.”

“In the middle of this crowd? With all your friends watching? With Lucas watching?”

I swallowed, my tongue thick and my throat dry. My chest lifted. I couldn’t find enough air.

Then I nodded. “Yes.”

Will leaned forward, and for a moment, I thought he might do it. I closed my eyes and turned my face toward his, my lips parting naturally, waiting for the moment where his mouth would touch mine, where his beard would scratch softly as he consumed me. His hands encircled my waist again just like they had the other night, and my heart gave one loud thump.

“No,” he whispered.

My heart dropped. And before I could help myself, I whimpered, a tiny, pitiful squeak that slipped out before I could stop it. It was a clear cry of desire, one that he heard just as well as I did.

“Lil,” he started.

“No.” I shook my head. “You, um, you don’t need to say anything.”

“Lily.”

Two fingers tipped my chin up, forcing me to meet Will’s penetrating gaze. I bit my lip. His pupils dilated.

“Maggie.”

I cringed. For some reason the name sounded wrong coming from him.

“You didn’t let me finish,” he said. “I meant no, as in not here. Because if I kiss you right here, right now, I’m not going to be able to stop. Because I want you so badly right now I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t kiss you. I’m not going to give a shit about what Lucas or his friends or any of these people think about it—all I want right now is you, Lil. And I’m not putting that on display for anyone’s prying eyes.”

My eyes opened as the music picked up again. It was obviously a well-known song in this crowd. Around us, people cheered, turning toward the band as they launched into a fast-paced jig that had people jumping up and down, hooting and hollering in a half second. But Will and I remained still, fully lost in each other.

“I’m going to ask you one more time, Lily,” he called over the noise. “Do you really want this?”

This time I didn’t speak. I only nodded. Yes.

Will’s eyes flashed. “Follow me.”

Suddenly, he was all action. I was yanked across the room, past my friends and plenty of other strangers who were probably more aware that I was “Ellie’s girl” than I was of who they were. There was no time to say my goodbyes or mitigate the suspicious looks from Lucas or his sister. Will towed me out to the parking lot at breakneck speed, pulled me to the passenger side of the old orange Toyota, and summarily tossed me inside. He didn’t wait for me to say anything, just slammed the door shut and jogged around to the other side before shutting the door behind him.

He turned to me with eyes like fire.

“Lily,” he growled. “Come here.”

Then he hauled me across the bench seat so I was straddling him, threaded his two big hands back into my hair, and dragged my mouth to his. My whole body sank into him, feeling the long, lean muscles pressed against me, the way his lips, full and insistent, molded perfectly to mine.

“Is this what you wanted?” Will growled as he nipped, sucked, pulled voraciously with every kiss.

The hands in my hair pulled slightly, and I cried out, sounds that were swallowed with more torrid kisses.

“Yes,” I hissed as I bit down on his lower lip.

Will groaned. His hands moved to cup my chin, claim my neck, then down further to pull open my blouse. Buttons flew everywhere, and a moment later, he was pressing his face between my breasts while his hands circled my waist.

“I’m not good for you, Lily,” he huffed even as his lips found my aching flesh, again and again.

“We’re not good for anyone, Will.” I threaded my fingers through his hair and pressed him closer, arching back when his teeth closed over one nipple, pointed and aroused through the lace of my bra.

“You are.” His words were muffled by my flesh, hoarse. “Fuck, Lily. You are.”

I shuddered, both at the slight bite and his words. “Then that’s probably why we work.”

“Do we work?”

Will spoke against that soft, sensitive spot directly between my breasts. He paused, inhaled deeply, audibly, and though I could feel him throbbing through his jeans, rubbing between my legs, the rest of him was suddenly perfectly still. His hair had fallen out of its knot, and I laid a kiss on top of his head. The fury of the moment had subsided with the question, though the desire still remained.

“Take me home, Will,” I said softly as I rolled my hips against him. “Please.”

He shuddered, his breath warm against my skin. The door to the bar opened across the parking lot, and we watched, still wrapped up in each other, as a few patrons left, arms wrapped easily about each other. Their laughter echoed in waves through the night air.

Will and I didn’t laugh. We were too sad, too broken for that kind of joy, but we were broken together.

He sat up straight, and tugged my shirt back together. Then he laid a tender kiss on my lips, and I watched, enthralled, as his mouth quirked into a very, very faint smile.

“All right, Lil,” he said. “Let’s go.”