Page 17 of Shame the Devil

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Owen told Harlan,“You realize you’re about to get your butt kicked again.”

They were sitting at a table next to the windows in the lodge’s too-rustic-to-believe bar. The metal lampshades had Christmas-tree designs cut into them, the rafters were tree trunks, and you could’ve roasted a steer in the stone fireplace. Harlan said, “Nope. I’m about to have a drink. A hot buttered rum, I guess, unless she drinks Tennessee whiskey. How come your dream girl never drinks Tennessee whiskey?”

“Because she thinks it has too many calories,” Owen said, “and that she’ll get drunk too fast. And she’s not into you, man. You’re going to pass up all those women whoareinto you and try for the one who isn’t? There’s a word for that. Masochism.” He looked at his watch. “It’s been half an hour. They’re probably not going to show. Too bad. I liked that little blonde. She puts her whole self into that laugh.”

“You forget,” Harlan said. “I’m not Thor anymore. Maybenobody’sinto me now, did you think of that?”

Owen said, “Yeah, that’s probably it, that you got ugly.”

Harlan laughed. He couldn’t explain this feeling. Like champagne fizzing in your veins. Like you’d run your pattern perfectly, and now you were turning, seeing the ball spiraling down toward you, and it was going to hit you right in the numbers. Right in thehands,and the goal line was right there. All you had to do was catch the ball, and the touchdown was yours.

He knew the women had come into the bar from Owen’s face. It didn’t get animated. It got still. He turned around himself, then got to his feet.

Well, damn. He’d been right.

The redhead, who wasn’t too much taller than the little blonde, was wearing a thin, ribbed turtleneck that fit her just as well as the ski pants had, a pair of snug, dark, boot-cut jeans, and Western boots to go with them, and she swayed when she walked, like she had too many curves to walk a straight line. She was just plain curvy-soft all over. Her hair was a mass of coppery-gold ringlets, her face was full of freckles, her nose was a snub kind of thing, and that mouth looked just as good as it had before. Except that she wasn’t smiling.

“Hi,” he told her, then indicated the chair he’d been using. “Sit here, and you’ll be able to see out. Snowing pretty hard out there.”

“I’m not sure I want to see that,” she said, but she did sit down. “I’m thinking a tropical beach vacation sounds a whole lot better at this point.”

“I know, right?” he said. “Australia. Great Barrier Reef.That’sa vacation. What are we doing in the snow?”

The blonde sat down beside her, facing the window, next to Owen. Shewascute. Adorable, in fact, a little like a kitten, with her pointed chin, big blue eyes, and dimples in her cheeks. Her haircut was short and undercut to a buzz at the bottom, leaving the top to fall casually around that little face, and she was seriously pierced. Three silver piercings in the lobe of one ear, a star and a moon and a lightning bolt at the bottom, and another lightning bolt on the other side, plus a thick silver cuff encircling the outer area of her ear. She had that double ring in her eyebrow, too. All the hardware made the rest of her look even cuter, somehow, like she was playing dress-up.

“Want that hot buttered rum?” Harlan asked the redhead. Her eyes looked more amber than gold now, in the lower light. He’d never seen eyes like that. He wanted to keep staring at them. And at her mouth. It had so many curves in it, you wanted to stay there all night.

Well, maybe with a few detours south of her smile.

“You know what I really want?” she said. “Bourbon. My thighs ache, I know they’re going to ache more tomorrow, my day’s beenwaytoo exciting, and I have a bruise on my butt that’s three inches across. I’ve earned bourbon. Does your kindness extend to Jack Daniels?”

Harlan just about fell out of his chair.

Yep. Tennessee whiskey.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “My kindness extends all the way up to that bottle they keep on the top shelf. How do you like it?”

“Oh,” she said, “I like it strong.”

Well, hell.

The other girl, the blonde, looked like she wanted to say something, but she wasn’t sure what. Also, Harlan could’ve sworn she’d kicked the redhead under the table, because she jumped.

“So that’s one Jack, neat,” Harlan said, once he had his breathing regulated again. “And what else?”

“I’ll have a hot cider,” the blonde said. “I’m Dyma, by the way, and this is Jennifer.”

“Owen,” Owen said, “and the ugly guy’s Kris. I’m going to start out with hot cider myself. Sounds good.”

Harlan opened his mouth, and Owen shot him a look like,Dude. Do you really want to be Harlan Kristiansen tonight? You sure?

Well, no. Probably not. At least, he didn’t correct Owen. And when he went up to the bar to place the order, nobody recognized him, which was a strange feeling, like being in a foreign country, or maybe a dream. It reallyhadall been about the hair. Now, he was just another guy. It felt weird, but maybe it felt good. Free. That fizzing thing again.

When he headed back over to the table, though, Jennifer wasn’t sitting down anymore. She was standing up, and standing straight, like she had some big announcement to make. Or like she’d been way too out there, and now she wanted to run. She said, “Actually, I needed—”

Owen said, “Hang on. I think this just got interesting.”