Page 3 of Claws and Feathers

Kate nudged him in the rib cage with her elbow as she piled her tray with appetizers. “Creepy dude at three o’clock just skedaddled.”

“Shit.” Cooper lifted his head in time to see a rickety, white van pulling out of a parking space. He squinted his eyes, trying to read the license plate, as if he’d planned on hunting down The Withered Man and collecting his hard-earned ten dollars like some kind of beer vigilante.

“And there’s our new friend looking like she wants to stab me with these antipasto skewers at nine o’clock,” Kate added, lifting her tray into the air.

“Left and right works just as well,” he chuckled. Cooper made eye contact with Abby as the two girls exited the bathroom. Her haunted eyes had turned fiery, and his skin prickled with warmth in response. To his surprise, instead of leaving the bar, they disappeared to the corner of the room to play darts with the Gleason brothers.

Cooper ran a hand through his unruly, brown hair. It was going to be a long night.

Abby had not intended on trading insults over cocktails with the McAllister siblings that evening. In fact, she hadn’t intended on going out at all. There was a mess of unpacked boxes in Daphne’s small guest room that needed tending to.

“Let’s go to the bar tonight,” Daphne had said. She had popped a ruffled potato chip into her mouth as her 1950s swing dress kissed her knees.

Thebar – notabar. Crow’s Peak had an assortment of dive bars and hole-in-the-wall pubs, but there was only one place worth going to, according to Daphne: The Crow Bar. A clever name to say the least. It was where most of the locals gathered, along with residents of the larger nearby town of Ashland.

Abby had shrugged. She wasn’t opposed to a little socialization. It would certainly give her a legitimate reason to procrastinate from unpacking – other than ‘this sucks’. So, she had agreed.

And now she regretted it.

Another burst of thunder roared outside, followed by the sound of a torrential rainfall pelting the roof. Abby shuddered, glancing up at the ceiling. She hated thunderstorms. They put her on edge. They made her anxious.

Abby wrapped an arm around herself and sipped on her Gin and Tonic, her eyes occasionally wandering over to the bartender across the room. Daphne had warned her about Cooper and Kate McAllister. There had been a tiff between the women ever since Daphne had graduated college five years ago and moved up to the quiet town of Crow’s Peak – aptly called ‘The Crow’. It had involved a boy. Big surprise.

Cooper was a cop, his sister was a waitress, and their father, Earl McAllister, owned The Crow Bar. Their family was well-known throughout the town of less than one-thousand residents.

Crow’s Peak had become her home the moment Nana Cecily passed away and left Abby with a house she didn’t want and memories she desperately needed to escape. Abby could appreciate the town’s appeal, considering she had been born and raised in the bustling north shore suburbs of Chicago. For what her hometown lacked in charm, it made up for in entitlement, deadlines, and an obscene amount of traffic. Shereallydidn’t miss the traffic. She also didn’t miss the ghosts she’d left behind. Or her high school sweetheart who’d broken her heart.

And she’d stopped missing her brother long before now.

“Stop ogling.”

Abby lowered her drink and turned to face Daphne, who’s nose was glued to her cell phone. “What?”

“You and your eyeballs. Stop,” Daphne barked.

“My eyeballs are none of your concern. And I’m not ogling.”

Daphne slipped her phone into her purse and crossed her arms over her partially exposed cleavage. “I love you, Abs, but the McAllisters and me have a very sordid history. I can’t sit back and watch you make eyes at Kate’s asshole brother.”

Sordid. Abby couldn’t help but laugh so hard she snorted gin out her nose. “I wouldn’t exactly call a post-college love triangle sordid.” Her laughter ebbed and she took another sip of her drink. “And I’m not making eyes at anybody. I’m observing the crowd.”

Daphne scoffed at her as one of the Gleason brothers – Tom? – approached with three darts in hand. Daphne accepted them and stood from her chair. “I saw that look he gave you. I’m not blind.”

Abby chugged the rest of her beverage, her alcohol buzz increasing with each gulp. Daphne was imagining things. There was no look. Abby shifted her gaze to the bar once more and watched as Cooper handed out drinks like he’d been doing it his whole life.

He was attractive – she couldn’t lie. Well-muscled, slightly rugged, brown hair and hazel eyes. The epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. Sure, he was good-looking. But Abby wasn’t interested. Cooper McAllister was rude. His sister was rude.

And Abby was not keen on getting involved withanyman – no, not yet.

Jordan had ruined her.

As the thought trickled through her mind, Cooper glanced up and caught her stare.

Her ogling.

Dammit. Abby smoothed out the fabric of her romper and decided to approach the bar. “Be right back,” she muttered to Daphne, not waiting for a response. Daphne was too wrapped up in flirting with the Gleasons to notice Abby slip away.

Abby stepped over to where Cooper was imputing drink orders on his register. His eyes found hers for a brief moment before refocusing on the transaction.

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