Knock me up, please.
My thank yous first:
I want to thank my Beta, Fran… God bless her because I give her a lot to do with each chapter and this one was a trip! My pre-readers: PAD, Eve, Cheryl and Dinia. Thank you for your sharp eyes and amazing suggestions. My best friend, Jannie, is on board, too.
Thank you my readers for the love. I cherish your reviews. They inspire, compliment and keep me going.
Disclaimer: I own nothing Twilight.
A/N: at end.
Chapter Four: The Search ... Fated
Smoothing down my hair and wiping my sweaty palms on the sides my dress, I compose myself and ask, "What can I get for you?"
He looks up at me with a worn, defeated expression and softly asks for a beer. He grabs his knitted cap, pulling it off slowly showing an array of golden bronze strands full of static electricity.
I turn, pour a draft beer with a great head and place it in front of him. "That's three-fifty."
He takes a long drink, a short breath and asks, "Can I have a running tab?"
"We don't use a computer system. It's a cash business," I inform.
He pulls a wad of bills from his wallet, places it in my hand and says, "Keep them coming."
I nod and head to the other side of the bar waiting on another customer. After writing out Bronze Boy's tab and placing his money in a plastic cup near the bottles by the cash register, I glance his way and see his glass is empty. He holds it up shaking for a refill.
After three beers, he adds shots of whiskey. Yeah, he wants to get messed up quickly.
The group at the table call him over, but he remains on his stool unmoving, waving them off. One bold girl in frilly scrubs tries to dig her claws into him. I watch her rub his arm and whisper into his ear only to witness a very smooth rejection on his part. Embarrassment covers her beet red face as she saunters back to her table.
I smirk with admiration, turning to face him and find him staring at me. I shrug with a half-smile, "Sorry, some people just don't get the hint."
Joe comes out from the back room with a huge container of ice. I quickly grab the other end and we toss it into the bin. I raise one bare foot in the effort as Joe gives me a bear hug, a 'thank you' and a kiss on my head. "You're a good girl. Now, put your hair up." He smiles, pats my cheek and retreats to the back.
As I ponytail my locks, I glance over to see Bronze Boy still staring at me. "What?" I grimace.
"Do you always tend bar barefoot?" he questions.
"Only when my feet hurt," I sing.
"May I get another whiskey and beer?" he asks very politely almost slurring his words.
I hesitate to warn him he's smashed, but he's well over twenty-one and needs to drown something. As I slide his drinks in front of him, he grabs my hand.
"Are you the kind of bartender that has a strong shoulder?" He finally stares up with those green, hollow pools of sadness.
My heart falls to my stomach and I feel for him. He really is quite down and I wonder what bothers him to get this stinking drunk.
I give him a sympathetic grin. "Yeah, I'm pretty strong and I'm a great listener."
A lone tear falls from the corner of his right eye. He shrugs, palms it away and clears his throat, taking a deep breath, "I lost three patients today." He waits for my response.
Without thinking, I cup my hands over his. "Oh, I'm so sorry."
His dark lashes fan over his lightly freckled cheekbones. I take in his strong square jawline with a very dark five o'clock … or maybe a very, after midnight, shadow. His eyes are a combination of dark and light green with gold specks and right now, they are very bloodshot. His ears burn red, as does the tip of his nose.
I don't believe he is a heavy drinker.
He humphs, "You're staring."
No filter, I blurt out, "You have amazing eyes."
He finally smiles, "I bet you say that to all the guys."
My turn to blush.
The bar starts to quiet down as most of the people clear out. Joe grabs all the receipts and asks if I wouldn't mind staying until closing. I can't say no to the old guy, so I grab a few beers and sit next to Bronze Boy.
The seats are very uncomfortable, so we move to a table in the corner near the back exit.
He tells me about the horrific accident near the diner, involving a young couple with a three-year-old little boy. Their car hit an oil slick, losing control and rolling them over an embankment behind the diner. He could do nothing to revive the man and woman.
Sorrow fills me and I finish my first beer and guzzle the second one quickly. This is so painful, that poor family.
With a shaky voice, he continues, "I tried everything, but there was internal bleeding. He never had a chance … Fuck ... Only three years old."
I hold his hand. "You did all that you could. I can't imagine your grief, but you can't blame yourself." I kiss his hair to comfort him. "I'm so sorry," I chant over and over.
He leans forward and grabs hold of me tightly. He sobs into the crick of my neck and I wrap my arms around his shoulders, running a hand through his soft hair. "It's all right, it's all right."
The buzz of the beer…
His masculine scent …
Our closeness …
I break from our embrace and kiss his cheek.
He watches me with blurred eyes.
Sucking in a deep breath, I kiss along his jawline. I am so overcome with grief for this family, for him that I need to ease his pain. Gently, I cover his lips with mine. "It's all right."
Another soft kiss. "It's all right." I rub my nose against his and slightly graze his lips with mine.
"Let me make you feel better, make you forget."
He tilts his head to the side, cups my face into his hands and kisses me with great force.
The vibration between the two of us creates a low, tingling sound as his touch ignites my skin.
I think of James and the difference between both of them. James' encounter … A sheer moment of flirtation, but this man has my soul. He tugs at my heart and I want, no I need, to help him forget about this horrible experience, even if only for tonight.
His kiss is pure fire and I burn from the inside out.
He seems to react to me, as I react to him.
We can't get any closer to one another.
I have to have more.
Breathlessly, I lead him to a back storage room. He stumbles, but I wrap my arm around his waist and pull him inside.
No one will interrupt us.
I lock the door.
He pins me up against the wall and his assault is rough, but he apologizes immediately. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"
"No," I barely mutter.
He continues kissing my neck running his hands up my sides.
I keep thinking, 'I can fix him. I can fix him.'
I lift his scrub shirt, undo his belt, unbutton his jeans and pull his zipper down stroking his ample erection.
He groans as he reaches under my dress, hiking it up, easily removing my panties then lifting me around the waist and sinking in forcefully.
I hold my breath as he fills me with his entire length. We both still in dull silence, taking in the euphoria, the magic, the ultimate explosion this moment brings.
He begins to move with care and purpose. The pleasure is intense and builds quickly. My walls tighten and he moans into my ear, "Never felt like this before."
In my mind, I agree.
Something is so different.
My entire body vibrates; the tip of my head tingles and my toes go numb. I feel as though I have no speech. My voice is mute, but my body screams from all ends. His power over me radiates through my fingertips, down to my toes and then back up to the ends of my hair.
Then, I feel it.
It's as if I internally explode.
My blood bursts into flames and pumps harder, stronger and thicker. I feel torn apart yet also feel pulled together.
I grab his shoulders and tug him closer to me.
I want more.
And he says, "I need more."
We move in unison.
Push and pull,
Back and forth.
I tighten my hold as he quickens his thrusts. The wall creeks, he losses his head within my hair and together we release.
I don't know where he ends and I begin.
I hold my breath.
He holds his.
We fall into one another sliding to the floor still connected. My legs drape over his as our arms remain around one another.
And he … cries.
I cry with deep sobs for him.
Eventually, he passes out, falling against the wall.
I carefully disconnect our bond. I find paper towels on one of the shelves, clean him and zip up his jeans.
Quickly I open the door and check for Joe. I can hear his whistling from behind the bar.
I sneak back into the bathroom, clean myself up and head back to the storage room. My boy is out like a light with a hint of a smile on his face.
It's too bad he most likely won't recall a thing.
I lie to Joe that I was taking him to the bathroom, but we didn't quite make it. He helps me get him into the office and up onto a beat up old sofa.
Why do men have sofas in their offices?
Joe says he'll let him sleep it off and get him a cab in the morning if he doesn't have a car.
He thanks me for all of my help and offers me fifty bucks. I curl the cash back into his palm, kissing his cheek and thanking him for all the fun.
I show him Bronze Boy's tab and all the cash. Again, he will settle it all in the morning.
Once at home I step into the shower, but I stop myself. Some of his scent is still there and I want to hold onto it right now.
In bed, I cry until I have no more tears, my stomach is aching and I long for him.
I pray that fate will be on my side and I will see him again.
Yeah, we can bet they WILL meet again. What do you think? Please, leave a review. I wanna know!
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