Until Harmony
Page 29
“When did you turn so sentimental?”
“I do not fucking know. But it probably happened around the time I moved into a house and became the owner of a bird, a dog and a fucking cat.” He laughs and I smile. “I’ll go with you to Skitter’s.” He stands, but I shake my head.
“I’m good going alone. Go home to your wife.”
“I know you’re good.” He claps my shoulder. “But I also remember a time when you had my back when I needed it. I’ll never forget that. Haven’t had a chance to return the favor until now. So I’m going with you. Besides, I need a beer and some entertainment, and I figure I’ll get both if I go. I don’t imagine Nico’s warmed up to the idea of you with his daughter in the last week, regardless of what he’s told her.”
“You’d probably be right about that,” I chuckle.
“Let’s roll. Don’t want to make a bad first impression on your future father-in-law,” he says, walking through the door, and I laugh while following him out to my bike.
Parking in the dirt lot of Skitter’s at ten to six, I shut down my bike as Wes pulls up and parks next to me. Skitter’s is in the middle of nowhere, off one of the back-country roads in town. Three years ago, it was nothing more than a rundown cabin. Then a couple from Montana bought it and the surrounding fifteen acres. They put thousands of dollars into the renovations, with plans to turn it into a small winery.
They didn’t take into account the two well-established wineries in the area, both on hundreds of acres set on hilltops with views of nothing but open land, rolling hills, and pure beauty. Knowing they had no way of contending with the competition, they changed the name from Sovon’s to Skitter’s and started serving beer and bar food. The place immediately became popular with bikers, locals, and those just passing through.
Climbing off my bike, I tuck my keys into the front pocket of my jeans and head toward the front porch of the bar, where there are a few people standing outside smoking and watching the TV that’s chained to the wall. I enter after Wes and I scan the room. Even on a weeknight, the place is packed; every stool lining the bar is taken up, along with most of the tables on the floor.
“Gonna get a beer. You want one?” Wes asks, and I lift my chin in the affirmative then watch him head toward the bar while I go in search of a table. I find one in the back near the jukebox that’s playing some country song about a man, his pickup truck, and his dog. Taking a seat, Wes comes over handing me my beer and sitting in the chair on the opposite side of the table from me. “Was thinking on the way over here, man. We should talk to Evan about this, see if he can find anything out about the rumors and if any of it’s true.”
“I thought about that too. I’ll give him a call tomorrow,” I say at the same time I spot Nico at the bar getting a beer from the bartender. The second our eyes lock, he walks our way, his long stride eating up the distance quickly. It doesn’t surprise me that he tried to convince me to leave Harmony alone, and if I were anyone else, it might have worked. Even at his age, he’s fit with an air of intimidation that’s hard not to notice when you’re around him. It’s not his tattoos or piercings. It’s more than that. It’s how he carries himself, how you know just by looking at him that if you cross him, he will have no problem taking you out with a bullet between your eyes. What he didn’t account for when he came at me is I would have no problem doing the same, without even blinking.
“Wes… Harlen.” Nico lifts his chin to Wes then me before taking a seat, resting his beer on the top of his knee. “What’s going on?”
“I need a favor,” I tell him, and he lets out a bark of laughter, tossing back his head and leaning back in his chair.
“You need a favor from me?” He lifts his head and his hand holding his beer, pointing at himself with his index finger.
Fuck.
My jaw clenches, and it takes everything in me to stay seated and to not walk away from him. If this didn’t have to do with my woman’s safety, I would walk away, but only after laying his ass out.
Gritting my teeth, I lean forward in my chair. “There’s a doctor at the hospital who makes Harmony uncomfortable. Rumor is he’s gotten a couple of nurses fired. I don’t know if those rumors are true, but I do know all rumors have a little bit of truth to them. He asked her out, and she turned him down. Yesterday, she got into the class she wanted to take. He got her in by giving a recommendation. She tells me that it’s not a big deal, but seeing how drama is constantly swirling around the Mayson family name, I’m ignoring her and following my gut. My gut says this guy is bad news.” I lean even closer. “I came to you, because you’re her dad and a cop. Personally, I don’t mind dealing with him myself, but I figured you might like me even less if I’m in prison for beating the shit out of a motherfucker. So yeah, I’m here asking you for a favor.”
“Jesus,” Wes mutters, but I ignore him and keep my eyes locked on Nico’s.
“He makes her uncomfortable?” Nico questions, and I lift my chin. “Fuck.” He lifts his free hand, running it through his hair. “Who is he?”
“Last name’s Hofstadter. He drives a G63 Mercedes. Besides that, I don’t know much about him.”
“Fuck,” he clips again, shaking his head. “She didn’t tell me about this.”
“She wasn’t exactly an open book when I found out about it,” I mutter, taking a pull from my beer, and his eyes change, causing me to brace.
“How close are you two?”
“Close.”
“How close?” he presses.
“What exactly are you asking me?”
“Do you love my daughter?”
Studying him for a long moment, I make a decision then lean forward once more. “No disrespect, but the first person who’ll hear that information come out of my mouth is not fucking you.”
“Fuck me.” He sighs, shaking his head. “I knew it. Fuck.” He looks away.
“Look at us, one big happy fucking family,” Wes mutters, and I fight back a smile.
“I hope you both have daughters one day, so you can experience the pain I’m feeling right now,” Nico says, looking between Wes and me, and an image of a little girl with lots of golden-brown hair and eyes just like Harmony’s fills my mind. Until Harmony, I never thought about the future. I always lived one day at a time, not putting much thought into where I was going. But with her, I want that. I want to make plans, I want her to be my wife, to have my ring on her finger, and my last name attached to hers. I want to have kids, at least a couple of them. I want to wake up early on Saturday mornings and run out for doughnuts then lounge around all day in our pajamas like I used to do with my parents before I lost them. Fuck but I want that with a hunger that is almost unbearable.
“You marry my girl, you better not even fucking think about taking her to the courthouse.”
I raise a brow at him, and ask, “You givin’ me your blessing to marry your daughter?”
“Would you even ask me?” he counters.
“Probably not,” I reply, and his eyes narrow.
“I see I should have laid off the kid she was dating a few years ago. At least he knew when to back the fuck down.”
“You’d want that kind of man for your girl?” Wes asks. Nico looks at him, and Wes shakes his head, holding up his beer in Nico’s direction with his finger out. “You wouldn’t. Him”—he points at me—“having your girl’s back means you don’t have to worry about her going it alone, carrying the weight a man should help her carry. And in the future, if I do have a daughter, I pray to God she finds a man who’s a man, not a fucking pussy that leaves her to deal with all the shit life throws her way on her own. Your daughter might be able to find someone you like more for her, but I guaran-fucking-tee you she won’t find anyone better than the man she has right now.” With that, Wes pushes back from the table and stands, not understanding the blow he just dealt. “Now, I need another beer. Either of you want one?”
“I’m good,” Nico says, and Wes nods at him then looks at me.
“I do not fucking know. But it probably happened around the time I moved into a house and became the owner of a bird, a dog and a fucking cat.” He laughs and I smile. “I’ll go with you to Skitter’s.” He stands, but I shake my head.
“I’m good going alone. Go home to your wife.”
“I know you’re good.” He claps my shoulder. “But I also remember a time when you had my back when I needed it. I’ll never forget that. Haven’t had a chance to return the favor until now. So I’m going with you. Besides, I need a beer and some entertainment, and I figure I’ll get both if I go. I don’t imagine Nico’s warmed up to the idea of you with his daughter in the last week, regardless of what he’s told her.”
“You’d probably be right about that,” I chuckle.
“Let’s roll. Don’t want to make a bad first impression on your future father-in-law,” he says, walking through the door, and I laugh while following him out to my bike.
Parking in the dirt lot of Skitter’s at ten to six, I shut down my bike as Wes pulls up and parks next to me. Skitter’s is in the middle of nowhere, off one of the back-country roads in town. Three years ago, it was nothing more than a rundown cabin. Then a couple from Montana bought it and the surrounding fifteen acres. They put thousands of dollars into the renovations, with plans to turn it into a small winery.
They didn’t take into account the two well-established wineries in the area, both on hundreds of acres set on hilltops with views of nothing but open land, rolling hills, and pure beauty. Knowing they had no way of contending with the competition, they changed the name from Sovon’s to Skitter’s and started serving beer and bar food. The place immediately became popular with bikers, locals, and those just passing through.
Climbing off my bike, I tuck my keys into the front pocket of my jeans and head toward the front porch of the bar, where there are a few people standing outside smoking and watching the TV that’s chained to the wall. I enter after Wes and I scan the room. Even on a weeknight, the place is packed; every stool lining the bar is taken up, along with most of the tables on the floor.
“Gonna get a beer. You want one?” Wes asks, and I lift my chin in the affirmative then watch him head toward the bar while I go in search of a table. I find one in the back near the jukebox that’s playing some country song about a man, his pickup truck, and his dog. Taking a seat, Wes comes over handing me my beer and sitting in the chair on the opposite side of the table from me. “Was thinking on the way over here, man. We should talk to Evan about this, see if he can find anything out about the rumors and if any of it’s true.”
“I thought about that too. I’ll give him a call tomorrow,” I say at the same time I spot Nico at the bar getting a beer from the bartender. The second our eyes lock, he walks our way, his long stride eating up the distance quickly. It doesn’t surprise me that he tried to convince me to leave Harmony alone, and if I were anyone else, it might have worked. Even at his age, he’s fit with an air of intimidation that’s hard not to notice when you’re around him. It’s not his tattoos or piercings. It’s more than that. It’s how he carries himself, how you know just by looking at him that if you cross him, he will have no problem taking you out with a bullet between your eyes. What he didn’t account for when he came at me is I would have no problem doing the same, without even blinking.
“Wes… Harlen.” Nico lifts his chin to Wes then me before taking a seat, resting his beer on the top of his knee. “What’s going on?”
“I need a favor,” I tell him, and he lets out a bark of laughter, tossing back his head and leaning back in his chair.
“You need a favor from me?” He lifts his head and his hand holding his beer, pointing at himself with his index finger.
Fuck.
My jaw clenches, and it takes everything in me to stay seated and to not walk away from him. If this didn’t have to do with my woman’s safety, I would walk away, but only after laying his ass out.
Gritting my teeth, I lean forward in my chair. “There’s a doctor at the hospital who makes Harmony uncomfortable. Rumor is he’s gotten a couple of nurses fired. I don’t know if those rumors are true, but I do know all rumors have a little bit of truth to them. He asked her out, and she turned him down. Yesterday, she got into the class she wanted to take. He got her in by giving a recommendation. She tells me that it’s not a big deal, but seeing how drama is constantly swirling around the Mayson family name, I’m ignoring her and following my gut. My gut says this guy is bad news.” I lean even closer. “I came to you, because you’re her dad and a cop. Personally, I don’t mind dealing with him myself, but I figured you might like me even less if I’m in prison for beating the shit out of a motherfucker. So yeah, I’m here asking you for a favor.”
“Jesus,” Wes mutters, but I ignore him and keep my eyes locked on Nico’s.
“He makes her uncomfortable?” Nico questions, and I lift my chin. “Fuck.” He lifts his free hand, running it through his hair. “Who is he?”
“Last name’s Hofstadter. He drives a G63 Mercedes. Besides that, I don’t know much about him.”
“Fuck,” he clips again, shaking his head. “She didn’t tell me about this.”
“She wasn’t exactly an open book when I found out about it,” I mutter, taking a pull from my beer, and his eyes change, causing me to brace.
“How close are you two?”
“Close.”
“How close?” he presses.
“What exactly are you asking me?”
“Do you love my daughter?”
Studying him for a long moment, I make a decision then lean forward once more. “No disrespect, but the first person who’ll hear that information come out of my mouth is not fucking you.”
“Fuck me.” He sighs, shaking his head. “I knew it. Fuck.” He looks away.
“Look at us, one big happy fucking family,” Wes mutters, and I fight back a smile.
“I hope you both have daughters one day, so you can experience the pain I’m feeling right now,” Nico says, looking between Wes and me, and an image of a little girl with lots of golden-brown hair and eyes just like Harmony’s fills my mind. Until Harmony, I never thought about the future. I always lived one day at a time, not putting much thought into where I was going. But with her, I want that. I want to make plans, I want her to be my wife, to have my ring on her finger, and my last name attached to hers. I want to have kids, at least a couple of them. I want to wake up early on Saturday mornings and run out for doughnuts then lounge around all day in our pajamas like I used to do with my parents before I lost them. Fuck but I want that with a hunger that is almost unbearable.
“You marry my girl, you better not even fucking think about taking her to the courthouse.”
I raise a brow at him, and ask, “You givin’ me your blessing to marry your daughter?”
“Would you even ask me?” he counters.
“Probably not,” I reply, and his eyes narrow.
“I see I should have laid off the kid she was dating a few years ago. At least he knew when to back the fuck down.”
“You’d want that kind of man for your girl?” Wes asks. Nico looks at him, and Wes shakes his head, holding up his beer in Nico’s direction with his finger out. “You wouldn’t. Him”—he points at me—“having your girl’s back means you don’t have to worry about her going it alone, carrying the weight a man should help her carry. And in the future, if I do have a daughter, I pray to God she finds a man who’s a man, not a fucking pussy that leaves her to deal with all the shit life throws her way on her own. Your daughter might be able to find someone you like more for her, but I guaran-fucking-tee you she won’t find anyone better than the man she has right now.” With that, Wes pushes back from the table and stands, not understanding the blow he just dealt. “Now, I need another beer. Either of you want one?”
“I’m good,” Nico says, and Wes nods at him then looks at me.
