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Buck Naked Page 4
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Page 4
Other than her trip to the Cougarville Chemist, her afternoon on the town had been a complete and total disaster. After leaving Fiona behind her counter, she’d decided to cross the street to visit Sweet Stems Florist shop.
There was a nice-looking older man behind the counter with slightly stooped shoulders and a touch of silver at his temples. Sadie could see him through the plate-glass window, arranging a large vase of roses.
She opened the door, causing a little bell to jingle, and he looked up.
“Well, hello! Welcome to the . . .” His words trailed off and he just stared at Sadie. His eyes widened, his nostrils flared, and a hungry look came over his face.
“Um . . . hello?” Sadie wasn’t sure what to say or why he had suddenly stopped talking and started staring. “I’m Sadie Becker, your new neighbor across the street.” She gestured in the direction of her office. “I’m a CPA and I—”
“Sadie! What a lovely name.” The man’s paralysis suddenly broke and he rushed forward to greet her. His elbow caught the huge vase and it crashed to the floor, spraying glass, water, and roses everywhere. Yet, strangely, he barely seemed to notice.
“Oh!” Sadie gasped, jumping back from the spreading puddle. “Your roses!”
“They’re nothing—nothing, dear Sadie! Not nearly as beautiful as you.” He reached for her hand, as though to shake it but before he could, a woman about his age came out from the back room of the shop.
“Buford! What in the world—” she began. Then she caught sight of Sadie. Her nostrils wrinkled and she glared. “What do you want in here?”
Sadie was taken aback. “I-I just stopped in to say hello,” she stammered. “I’m new in town and I wanted to meet—”
“Wanted to meet whatever eligible males you could before the full moon, did you? Well you can just cross this place right off your list, missy.” There was a spark of anger in the woman’s gray eyes. “My Buford isn’t even an Alpha, and besides, he’s taken.”
Sadie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Was the woman actually insinuating that Sadie was here to steal her elderly husband? What would make her think such a thing?
“I just wanted to introduce myself,” she said. “But if this is a bad time—”
“You know damn good and well it’s a bad time! We’re closed so I’ll thank you to go.” The woman glared at her.
“All right.” Sadie stepped out of the shop and the woman bustled after her. She locked the door as though she thought Sadie might try to come back in. Then she flipped the sign hanging on the door from OPEN to CLOSED and pulled down a shade, covering the window.
Feeling stunned, Sadie walked a little way down to the Friendly Bean. Well, at least she was sure of getting a good reception here. It was one of the few shops she’d already gone into—she had gotten herself a delicious mochaccino the day she moved in and signed the papers to rent her office.
She stepped inside confidently enough and took a deep breath. The small, snug space was filled with the warm, delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee. Three couples sat sipping their beverages at the little round tables scattered around. There were faded vintage movie posters on the walls and a shelf of lending books with tattered covers in one corner. In the far rear of the establishment was a battered leather couch where you could sit and read or just drink coffee. Sadie couldn’t imagine a cozier spot.
Standing at the counter was a vaguely familiar man. He was probably about Sadie’s age with broad shoulders and an open, honest face with kindly brown eyes.
“Welcome to the Bean,” he called, just as he had the first time she’d come in. “Glad to . . .”
He stopped talking, just as the man at Sweet Stems Florist had. At the same time, a hush fell over the three couples sitting around sipping their coffee. They all looked at Sadie, staring at her as though she’d grown a second head.
What in the world are they staring at? She looked around uneasily. Nothing like this had happened the first time she had come into the Friendly Bean. Then the other customers had barely glanced up from their drinks and the counterman had served her with a pleasant smile. Now all their gazes were pinned on her and most of the expressions on their faces were anything but cordial.
“Juvie,” the woman sitting in the table nearest to her hissed. She looked Sadie up and down, her lip curling as though what she saw disgusted her. “Come on, Jason!” She grabbed the hand of the man who was sitting with her—staring at Sadie with the same, strange hunger she’d seen on the florist’s face—and dragged him up. “We’re leaving.”
She towed the man, who must have been her husband, out the door, shutting it hard behind her.
As though the woman’s exit was some kind of signal, all the other patrons of the Friendly Bean got up and left too—the women pulling their men behind them just as the first one had. At last only the counterman was left.
“I . . .” Sadie looked at him uncertainly. “I’m so sorry. I don’t . . . I’m not sure what just happened.”
“Worry not, my lovely.” He came around the counter, holding out a hand to her. “Allow me to offer you a drink on the house. Any drink—or all the drinks. Just tell me what you want—everything I own and everything I am is at your complete disposal.”
“Um, that’s very kind of you but maybe I should just go.” Feeling thoroughly confused and more than a little creeped out, Sadie started to back toward the exit.
“No! You must stay!” The kindly coffee attendant wasn’t looking so kindly anymore. He caught Sadie’s hand and began to tug her to the back of the shop. “Stay with me,” he growled hungrily. “I want to get to know you better. Much better!”
To Sadie’s horror, she realized he was dragging her over to the battered leather couch, clearly with less-than-honorable intentions.
“Wait! No!” She tried to fight him but he was immensely strong—even stronger than he looked. “Let me go!” she gasped as he pushed her onto the couch. “What are you doing? I don’t even know you!”
“Soon you will know me—all of me—as I will know all of you,” he promised, fumbling with the buttons of her navy peacoat.
“Stop it! Stop!” Sadie batted his hands away but he wouldn’t stop. Before she knew it, he started to climb on top of her.
“Help! Help me!” She couldn’t believe she was being assaulted by the nice counterman who had given her a mochaccino with a friendly smile the last time she’d seen him. What was wrong with him? With everyone in this town?
Her cries for help brought someone from the back. There was a sound of footsteps and then, suddenly, an angry woman with short black hair came into view.
“John!” she exclaimed, whacking the counterman on one broad shoulder. “What in the name of Lady Moon do you think you’re doing?”
The counterman didn’t answer. He just continued pawing at Sadie’s clothing and trying to climb on top of her. The woman ran off and for a horrible moment Sadie thought she was just going to leave her to her fate. She came back, however, holding a steaming cup of coffee in one hand.
“What are you going to do?” Sadie gasped, still fighting off the man’s advances.
The woman didn’t answer. Instead she threw the hot cup of coffee straight into the counterman’s face.
He howled in pain and scrambled back, clawing at his eyes and face.
“Get up.” The woman with dark hair jerked her head at Sadie. “Get up and go, quick.”
“I . . . I . . .” Sadie made herself stand on shaky legs. She tried to straighten her clothing, which was rumpled from the sudden unprovoked attack. “Thank you for saving me,” she offered at last.
“I shoulda left you to it—serves you right coming in here like this. But my brother’s a good man even if he’s not an Alpha—he’d hate himself when his head cleared,” the woman said grimly.
“Cleared from what? I don’t understand.” Sadie shook her head desperately.
“Well, understand this—I don’t know where you’re from, Juvie,” the woman
said. “But in Cougarville you just can’t act this way.” She motioned at the door. “Now get out and don’t come back until you’ve got your situation sorted.”
Sadie had about a million questions she wanted to ask but the overly friendly counterman was showing signs of getting over the hot coffee his sister had splashed in his face. He was eyeing Sadie hungrily and sniffing the air as though he smelled something particularly good to eat.
“Go!” the woman said again.
Fearing another assault, Sadie went. She dashed out of the Friendly Bean and found herself on the street once more, her head reeling and her heart pounding.
What was going on here? Was everyone in Cougarville crazy? Why would a seemingly nice, ordinary man suddenly attack her? And why did the women of the town—or at least the ones she’d met aside from Fiona—seem to hate her so much?
Thinking of Fiona, she remembered her cryptic words about how she might be able to get served at the Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezy diner if she mentioned Fiona’s name.
Should I even try? Sadie looked across the street uncertainly. She could see through the large glass windows of the diner—there was no one there but a slim boy with bright red hair who looked like he was just barely old enough to be in high school.
A rumbling stomach reminded Sadie that she had skipped breakfast and there was absolutely nothing to eat in her office. Still, she hesitated, watching the boy, sizing him up. He seemed harmless enough and he wasn’t nearly as big as the counterman at the Friendly Bean or any of the other guys she’d seen in town. The men did seem to run on the large size here in Cougarville. Maybe he just hadn’t gotten his growth spurt yet.
Her stomach growled again.
Well, if he comes at me like the guy in the Friendly Bean I can run out again, she finally decided.
Squaring her shoulders, she walked across the street and opened the door of the diner.
“Oh, hello.” The red-haired boy looked up with a smile. “Welcome to the Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezy diner. What’s your pleasure today?”
“Um . . .” Sadie hovered just inside the doorway, waiting to see if he would make a rush at her the way the florist and the counterman at the Friendly Bean had.
The boy laughed.
“Yeah, I know it’s a mouthful but my mom makes me say it. She’s the owner of the Lemon Squeezy and she’s really strict about how it’s run. Would you like to come in for lunch?”
He seemed so nice and normal that Sadie dared to come all the way through the front door and into the diner.
“Thank you.” She gave him a tentative smile and added, “Fiona sent me. She said I should try your lemon icebox pie.”
The boy smiled. “My mom makes that fresh every morning and it’s usually gone by noon. But I think you’re in luck—we’re slow today so I might have a piece left.”
By now Sadie could tell he wasn’t going to freak out and attack her so she let down her guard—just a little.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling at him. “And if it’s not too much trouble, could I get a turkey sandwich too? Hold the mayo. And I’ll take both the sandwich and the pie to go.”
It seemed safest to get the food and get back to her office and out of the public eye. Sadie had no idea what had happened in Sweet Stems and the Friendly Bean, but she most certainly didn’t want a repeat of it here at the Lemon Squeezy if anyone else came in.
“Coming right up,” the boy promised. “You want that on white or wheat? And any toppings?”
“Wheat is fine, with lettuce and tomato,” Sadie said.
He nodded and went to work behind the counter at the front. The Lemon Squeezy looked like a classic fifties diner with round stools lining the counter, old-fashioned black and red vinyl booths, and a bulky chrome jukebox in one corner.
Sadie went over to examine the songs on the jukebox while she waited for her order. Lots of classic rock mixed with some oldies and even a few songs from the eighties. She was just thinking of putting in a quarter to play a Tears for Fears song when the boy spoke again.
“So, you new in town?” he asked as he worked on her sandwich.
“Yes.” Sadie looked up for a moment and smiled. “I’m in an office not far from here. I’m a CPA—do you know if your mom is looking for an accountant?”
“Well . . .” He made a face. “I don’t know about that. Mom’s kind of a control freak, you know? I think she does that kind of thing herself. But I can ask her.”
“Here’s my card.” Sadie went over and laid a business card on the counter. “Just in case.”
“Sure.” He nodded as he finished wrapping up the sandwich. “I’ll give it to her.”
“Thank you.” Sadie felt a glow of real pleasure. This was more like what she had envisioned when she first stepped out of her office looking to meet her new neighbors. It felt so nice and normal she was beginning to think the incidents at Sweet Stems and the Friendly Bean were strange anomalies.
“Here you go, that’ll be $8.99.” The boy was just in the act of handing her a plastic bag containing the pie and sandwich when the door opened and a woman with platinum-blond hair done up in an elaborate beehive stepped inside.
“Timmy,” she called to the boy. “I just heard from Nora over at the Bean there’s a Juvie in town causing all kinds of trouble. So if anyone—” She stopped short when she saw Sadie. Her nose wrinkled and her eyes widened. “You!” she exclaimed, taking a step forward.
“Um, hello.” Sadie eyed her nervously. “You must be the owner of the Lemon Squeezy. Your son here has been helping me—you must be so proud, he gives excellent customer service.”
She’d meant her words as a compliment but she seemed to have said the exact wrong thing. The woman turned on her, enraged.
“How dare you come in here flaunting your Juvie ass and trying to corrupt my son!” she shouted, storming up to Sadie. “He hasn’t even reached maturity yet, you disgusting, horrible—”
“What are you talking about?” Sadie demanded, stung into defending herself. “All I wanted was some lunch! I was trying to compliment you on what a nice, polite boy he is.”
“Well he’s one boy you won’t sink your claws into! And as for your lunch . . .” The woman grabbed the bag her son was still holding, dumped it on the floor, and stomped on it. Lemon pie filling squirted across the floor and the sandwich was flattened, red tomato oozing out from between the slices of wheat bread. “Get out!” She pointed a trembling finger at Sadie. “Get out and don’t you bother my boy again!”
Sadie fled—what else could she do? She ran back to her office, not bothering to change the sign to open, and sank down behind her desk with her head in her hands.
And that was pretty much where she had spent the afternoon, cowering in her office with her stomach rumbling, wondering what the hell was going on. She felt like she’d been dropped into some weird soap opera as the villain and she didn’t understand the plot.
Had she made a huge mistake moving to Cougarville? It certainly seemed that way. Why was everyone treating her like she was a pariah? Or all the women did, anyway. The men all seemed to want to hump her leg or worse. But why?
“God, what have I done to myself? I uprooted my whole life to come to a town full of crazy people!” Sadie moaned, rubbing her temples. A dull, throbbing headache was building like a thunderstorm inside her skull.
She looked at her cell phone longingly, wishing it would ring so she could explain everything to Samantha. But the very fact that her sister hadn’t felt her distress and called her by now told Sadie her twin was probably completely immersed in some surgery or trauma case. She couldn’t pull Samantha away from something like that just to moan about her poor life choices.
At last the clock on her office wall read five o’clock and Sadie decided it was time to go. Her head still throbbing, she got up and gathered her things. What a dreadful first day at work—she just wanted to go home, take a hot bath, and try to relax—after she took about six ibuprofen for this awful headache, that
was.
Thinking of ibuprofen made her remember the pharmacy and her promise to Fiona at the Cougarville Chemist.
Sadie stood in the doorway of her office, debating on whether she should go back and talk to the older woman or not. She really didn’t feel like it—her head really hurt. Then again, it seemed Fiona was the only person who would talk to her in the whole town. And maybe she’d have some idea of what was going on.
Reluctantly, Sadie headed for the Cougarville Chemist. Time to try to get some answers.
Six
“Well, well—what’s got you looking so blue?” Fiona asked brightly when she stepped into the shop. “Did you have a rough day?”
“Yes, I did.” Sadie came over to the counter, weaving her way through the overcrowded shelves to do so. “And a very strange day too.”
Fiona nodded sagely. “Well, we all have those. It is only a few days until the full moon, you know, dear.”
“The full moon?” Sadie seemed to remember someone else mentioning the moon too. “What does that have to do with it?”
Fiona opened her dark eyes wide. “Why, everything my dear. Just everything.”
“The people in this town . . . is there something going on with them?”
“Oh, always, dear. Cougarville is a busy little spot—yes, it certainly is.” Fiona smiled.
“Yes, but . . . when I tried to go meet them . . .” Sadie stopped, trying to think how to phrase her sentence without sounding like a little kid in school complaining about being picked on. “They don’t seem to like outsiders very much,” she said at last. “At least, they didn’t seem to like me.”
“Well, no—they wouldn’t, would they? Not so close to a full moon and considering what you are.”
“What? What do you mean? They don’t even know me!” Sadie was getting more and more annoyed by the oblique way the other woman was answering—or rather not answering—her questions.
“Not yet they don’t.” Fiona smiled and patted her hand. “But they will—don’t worry, my dear. They will.”
“I give up.” Sadie threw up her hands. “I’m going to go home.”