Page 1 of Clashing

Chapter one

Mystery Man

Scarlett

I let the dust settle in the dirt parking lot before I hazarded a step outside.

The paranoia I’d fought during the fourteen-hour drive crept back in, and I whipped my head around while I white-knuckled my pepper spray.

It’s the middle of the day and an entirely new state.

You’re fine. Regardless, I kept the spray in my hand and grabbed as many bags as I could carry.

Though I’d never been here, the splintered wooden sign above the bar I’d parked in front of was familiar from pictures.

I lugged my bags inside, where a touch of cigarette smoke mingled with whiskey and leather—my comfort smells.

The combination reminded me of the days I ran to that smell and found a grilled ham and cheese sandwich with a pickle spear waiting for me. My safe place.

The heavy door closed behind me with a loud thump , echoing in the nearly empty establishment. Mid-morning on a Wednesday didn’t draw much of a crowd.

Wooden walls, floors, and tables matched the polished bar top, which extended from one end of the bottle-covered wall almost to the other. It stopped about ten feet away, the end lining up with an open doorway and a set of stairs leading up.

Swinging half doors—to the left of the stairs behind the bar—opened, and through them entered the man I came to see.

The source of the scents. More wrinkles crinkled the corners of his hazel eyes than last time I saw him.

The little bit of hair he had left—only on the sides of his head except the beard—was now salt-and-pepper gray.

The resting grumpy face hadn’t changed. Neither had the build of a Navy SEAL veteran.

To anyone else, he might’ve been intimidating.

However, his tough-guy facade faded the moment his gaze landed on me.

Dan’s grin reminded me of home as much as the smell of his bar. “My God, look who finally made it!” His exclamation attracted the attention of his three customers, but I didn’t care.

Dropping my bags, I ran to meet his quick approach. I threw my arms around him, and he embraced me in the same bear hug he had since I was a kid. Exactly what I need.

“You’ve grown so much, Scarlett. Let me look at you.” He held me at arm’s length. “How’d you get even more beautiful?”

I giggled and swatted his arm. “Thanks. And again, thank you so much for letting me do this.”

“I’m not letting you do anything, honey.” He snatched most of my bags before I could reclaim them. “I don’t even use the place. You’re doing me a favor renting it out.” He winked, the motion lowering one of his bushy eyebrows. “Come on. I’ll show you up.”

I followed him, wincing when the limp from his bad knee wavered his advancement.

Whether his time as a Navy SEAL or his time in a biker gang was responsible for the injury, I wasn’t sure.

All I knew was, there was no convincing him to let me carry my bags.

Though I did manage to grab the heaviest one.

Dan led me to the narrow staircase. Charcoal drawings and different types of paintings hung on the walls. My work. Dan wasn’t much of an art aficionado, but he made an exception for me. Lucky didn’t cover it. The man was too good to me.

We reached the top of the stairs, where a window overlooked the alley behind his bar.

Dan faced the closed door to the left of the window, and I wiped my sweaty palms against my shorts.

My new place. He set the bags down and retrieved a blue carabiner clipped on the belt loop of his jeans.

I’d given him that carabiner ten years ago when he kept losing his keys. Can’t believe he’s still using it.

He thumbed through the keys on the faded D ring until he reached an especially dark one, then slipped it in the lock of my new home.

“Now, it’s not much, honey,” he twisted the key, and a soft click allowed the door to creak open, “but it’s something.

” He gathered my luggage and walked in. “I tried to get it clean, but it was hard on the knees, you know?”

I shuffled in behind him, and the weight I’d carried on my chest for weeks lightened. Over the phone, he’d made it sound like a hovel no better than a cave in the Stone Age, but I loved it.

An open floor plan provided a clear view to the living room straight ahead, the dining room beside it on the right, and the kitchen directly to my right.

My gaze swept around for points of entry, and the tension in my shoulders eased.

The only way in—unless someone scaled the building—was through the same door we’d used.

The only other door in the place led to a bedroom.

“Kitchen.” Dan wandered toward a single line of counter broken up by a fridge on the end and a stove and sink in the middle.

“Dining room.” He gestured to the space cornered between the kitchen and living room.

Warm light spilled from a giant window that would be perfect for work.

“Living room.” He jerked his head toward the room holding an old CRT TV and a weathered red couch.

Giddiness fluttered in my stomach. This is perfect to start over. Cozy and simple.

The tour took us to the bedroom next. Although it wasn’t spacious, it had a walk-in closet and an en suite. Another large window let light in from the left of the bed. A small bed. Didn’t matter. It was only me, anyway.

“This is perfect.” I dropped my bag and spun around to take it in.

A smile graced Dan’s gruff face. “I’m glad you like it. Now, come on.” He headed for the front door, and I followed. “Let me show you where to park and how to get in without walking through the whole bar.”

Thank God. Not that I wasn’t grateful to be here, but I worried I’d have to navigate crowds of drunk people every time I came home.

Home. Moving from New Mexico to California was a big change, but one I needed. I’d never lived alone. Even now, I wasn’t that alone. Dan lived next door.

As soon as I told him my plans to move, he offered the apartment above his bar and refused to allow me to pay more than the dirt cheap three hundred bucks a month.

Maybe he wasn’t officially my father or uncle, but he was the closest thing I’d ever had to one.

He’d been in my and Mom’s life since I was a little girl.

Blood didn’t make him family. Presence and time did.

We met him when I was a mischievous toddler who wandered into his yard at the trailer park and plucked one of his tulips out of the perfectly lined collection he’d gardened.

Mom was wary at first when he offered to help her with me.

She was single, worked her ass off as a nurse, and got no help from my deadbeat father.

When Mom asked Dan why he’d want to help us, he told her, “You remind me of someone.”

A couple weeks later, we learned that someone meant his daughter and granddaughter who’d died in a car accident the year before we moved into the trailer next door. In a minuscule way, we helped fill the void they left. Like he filled the dad void in my life.

We missed Dan like hell when he moved to California, but we encouraged his dream to own a bar, just like his father.

After his dad died, and Dan inherited the bar, the only thing holding him back was Mom and me.

We didn’t allow the opportunity to pass him by, and he moved at the beginning of my senior year of high school.

There were many late-night phone calls after he left. It was odd to come home and not find him sitting on his porch with a cigarette, ready to hear any and all problems we had. He listened to my angsty emotions through grade school, even when he moved away to the very bar I now called home too.

We reached the bottom of the stairs, and Dan gestured to a hallway beside the staircase. “Take the car around to the little alley behind the bar. At the end, there’s dumpsters and a couple parking places. Yours is the one I’m not in. There’s a door I’ll open for you. You got a lot of other bags?”

“Two more, but I got it.” I pecked him on the cheek. “Don’t worry.”

It didn’t take long to find the alleyway and move my truck. As instructed, I parked next to Dan’s truck—the newer version of mine. He bought it the day he gave me his old one, although he had a van too.

Sure enough, Dan waited by the door when I pulled in. He insisted on taking the bags despite hissing at the pain in his knee. I set my hands on my hips and huffed at him.

He chuckled. “I know, I know.” He hefted a duffle over his shoulder. “Let me, would you? I know you’re capable. It helps me feel less like an old man.”

Old man. Pretty sure he was born an old man.

Upstairs, he deposited my bags and held out a key ring with four keys on it.

“This is for the front door.” He clasped the chain by one key, then switched to the next.

“This is for the back door. This one’s for your place.

This last one will get you into my house.

” He handed the keys over, and I practically bounced.

New start, here I come. A new start where the only man I allowed in my life was the one in front of me.

“Why don’t you settle in, then I’ll get you something to eat in the bar, all right?” Dan asked.

I nodded, unable to stop my wide smile. “Thanks.”

The moment the door shut with him on the other side, I jumped and squealed. This was everything I needed. Isolated, but not too much. A new town. A new place far away from the drama I left behind.