Page 6 of Deception & Daylight
“For the carpentry or the babysitting services?”
I drape an arm over her shoulder and pull her in for a side hug. “Anytime you need an unqualified babysitter, you know where to find me.”
With one last cursory glance around the cottage, I say my goodbyes to the rest of the crew and make my way to the truck. It’s been a hell of a week, and I could use a distraction. Seeing Maggie today stirred up a lot of memories I'd rather not think about. She’s had me in her grip for far too long, and I need to move on, but she’s burrowed herself so far under my skin, I doubt I’ll ever be free of her. I pull out onto the road, pointing my truck towards The Ridge. It’s time to end the dry spell.
“Hey Barlow. What can I get ya?” Liam asks, absently drying a freshly washed beer stein.He’s in his usual uniform of a t-shirt and jeans, and there’s a bandage peeking out from beneath his right sleeve. His arms are covered in ink from wrist to shoulder — I’m surprised there’s any space left, to be honest.
“A pint of whatever’s on tap, and toss in some nachos, would you? The works.”
“You got it.” He quickly slaps down a branded coaster, depositing my beer before heading into the kitchen. I glance around the room, taking stock of the recent updates Cade has made to the space since taking ownership. It’s less of a dive these days, but it retains its rustic charm with dark wood accents, and minimal decor. I take a long pull of the amber liquid, scanning the dimly lit room for someone to take home.
I’m not ashamed to admit I’m somewhat out of practice. It’s been a while since I’ve picked up a girl in a bar. It used to be my favorite pastime — right up until a sassy, brown-eyed pixie walked into my life and flipped my world on its axis without even trying.Snap out of it, Barlow.Now's not the time to be thinking abouther.
My eyes land on a tall blonde down the bar, wearing fuck me heels as she looks up at me through her lashes, her plump red lips wrapped around a cocktail straw. She’s the polar opposite of Mags in every way, which should thrill me, but something about her prickles at the back of my mind. Recognition dawns when a man slides into the seat next to her — it’s one of my clients. She’sverymarried andveryoff limits.
Liam returns with a heaping pile of nachos, stealing my attention away from the couple. “Thinking about joining a throuple?” He leans in conspiratorially. “I have it on good authority they’re into sharing.”
“Think I’ll pass. I don’t shit where I eat.” I smirk, tossing a cheesy, jalapeño covered chip into my mouth. “Damn. These are good.”
Liam rests his elbows on the bar, snagging a chip from my plate. “You comin’ by the gym tomorrow?”
“Depends. Might be a long night,” I reply, leaving the clear insinuation hanging in the air.
Liam reaches into his pocket and tosses a condom across the bar. “Wrap it up. We don’t want any little Barlows running around this town.”Don’t I know it.
Discreetly sliding the condom into my shirt pocket, I lock eyes with a cute brunette swaying sensually on the dance floor. She bites her bottom lip and crooks a finger for me to join her. Her dark brown eyes are full of warning signs, but I stride up to her anyway, determined to find a distraction. “Hi Miles,” she says, her voice little more than a breathy sigh.
“Have we met?”
She wraps her slender arms around my shoulders, craning her neck to look me in the eye. “No, but I’ve heard a lot about you.”She skates her finger down the bridge of my nose, but her touch has little effect on me.
I chuckle derisively. “Most of what you’ve heard is a lie.”
She hums in contemplation. “So… you don’t have a big dick?”
Quirking a brow, I say, “No, that part’s true.”
I lean in slightly, catching a whiff of her overpowering perfume, and I instantly recoil. Everything about this feels wrong — almost like I’m cheating. Part of me wants to stay and see it through, but there’s a much larger part that’s urging me to run in the opposite direction, and that’s the part that wins out in the end. I make up a half-hearted excuse to leave, wave to Liam on my way out, and head home with my thoughts miles away — 800 miles, to be exact. Despite the fact that Maggie has no concrete claim over me, she still somehow holds me captive.
I roll the windows down and let the breeze cool my heated skin on the drive back to the house, the dull hum of a country song on the radio drowned out by my warring emotions. The truth of the situation is staring me right in the face, with no resolution to be had. I can’t fix what’s already broken beyond repair and this helpless feeling only grows the more I try to move on.
By the end of the drive, I’m no better off than I was when I left the cottage. I slam my fists against the steering wheel, frustration rolling off me in waves before I stomp into the house and fall into bed fully clothed, allowing sleep to take hold. But even in dreams, I can't escape her. She’s woven into the very fabric of my being. Whether I want her there or not.
2 years ago
I have Maggie pushed up against the wall on the threshold of Paige and Cade’s kitchen, the mistletoe hanging tauntingly overhead. She keeps her brown eyes locked on mine, defiant and full of fire, as her hand gently glides down my torso.
“We shouldn’t,” I whisper, but my voice holds little conviction. My entire body is vibrating with the need to claim her.
“It’s bad luck if we don’t,” she murmurs.
I cup her cheek in my palm, my thumb skating along the underside of her jaw as I tilt her chin up ever so slightly. Her lips part on a stuttered inhale, and her chest brushes against mine as I lean in for the kiss. Just as our lips are about to touch, that goddamn cat cock blocks me all over again. Fuck.
Mags
Against my better judgement, I’m seated at a bar on Queen Street wearing my favorite little black dress with a cocktail in hand, but my mind is elsewhere.
I used to relish nights like these, but they don’t seem to hold the same weight for me anymore. I spent years crafting a carefree facade in a desperate attempt to compensate for the profound emptiness left by a lonely childhood; a childhood marked by a stark absence of companionship and a pervasive sense of isolation. But the memories only serve as a reminder that the hollowness can’t be filled with strangers in bars and fleeting one-night-stands.
