Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(7)
“But all the women want to be with the captain.”
“Seems that way, doesn’t it?” Not her. Captain Kirk was a dawg, a player. Besides, Josie didn’t want any man, no matter how smart. She had a child—and how would Carson react if she started dating? Talk about complicating life. Even ignoring the truth that lust didn’t magically transform into a loving, happy ever after, there was the fact that a man wouldn’t want to take on a child who wasn’t his.
Or even a child who was.
After wolfing down a sandwich, Josie dressed for work. Black pants, white button-up shirt, black vest, ugly bow tie. Her bartending uniform.
She shook her head ruefully. Serving drinks wasn’t the job she’d dreamed about while growing up. She’d planned on college with an English or history major.
Life could sure mess with a girl’s plans.
But tending bar paid fairly well, and she enjoyed the work. Even better, the night hours left her time to do what she loved best—write books.
“Carson, grab your homework. Time to go to Oma’s. And do remember to help her with the dishes after you eat.” She ignored his usual grumbles at having to leave his show. Thank God for Oma. Ever since Josie’s great-aunt had returned from overseas years ago, she’d babysat Carson. When Josie bartended, Carson would spend the night at his great-great-aunt’s place. The two adored each other, but as a moody pre-teen, he was obligated to complain.
Smiling, Josie handed her son his sweatshirt. The night air was cool. Here in Florida, that only meant adding a hoodie at night. In Texas, she’d have needed a heavier coat.
Before getting in her car, Josie kept an eye on her boy as he trudged past the biker’s half of the duplex to the half where Oma lived. As Carson went inside, Oma leaned out the door and waved.
Josie blew her a kiss, got into her car, and made a mental note to warn Oma about keeping Carson away from the biker.
*
That night, after pulling her car into the driveway, Josie sat in the dark and seethed. Not fair. Maybe she should do one of those FML Facebook posts. Fuck-My-Life sure sounded appropriate. Sheesh, had she accidentally annoyed one of the gods in Asgard or something? Was Loki, the god of mischief, following her around and messing up her life?
How many things could go wrong this month? Carson’s worsening attitude. Oma’s sprained ankle. Uzuri turning over her lease to a biker of all things.
And now her boss at The Highland Whisky Lounge had fired her.
Josie saw the clock on the car dashboard and scowled. Not even nine o’clock. Her boss had sent her home before she’d even worked a couple of hours. He’d tried to justify the firing by stating her work was unsatisfactory, which was such a lie. In her three years there, she’d earned glowing evaluations. Raises. The clientele and serving staff liked her.
However, as Josie’d been leaving, the head barmaid had pulled her aside for a talk. The real reason Josie’d been dismissed had nothing to do with her work—and wasn’t one she could fight. Nepotism. Looked like she’d be job-hunting tomorrow.
“Loki, if you’re the one messing with my life, I’m going to kick your ass,” she muttered. She got out and noticed three cars parked in front of her new neighbor’s duplex. Apparently, Holt had more biker friends to entertain.
Maybe she’d kick his ass, too.
As Josie reached her front door, someone else—Uzuri—parked in front of Holt’s place. It was a shame she’d moved out of the duplex. Last summer and fall, Josie’d enjoyed their occasional conversations.
Before Josie could call a greeting, Holt strolled out the front door. “Zuri.”
“Hey, Holt!” Uzuri hurried across the lawn, went up on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek. With black hair, brown skin, dancing brown eyes, and in a beautifully tailored ivory suit, she was a decided contrast to Holt with his light hair and eyes, golden tanned skin, and ripped, faded clothing. To be honest, both of them were gorgeous.
Actually… As she regarded Holt’s golden good looks, Josie laughed silently. No wonder she had Loki and Asgard on her brain. Her neighbor looked just like Thor, right down to the studly body, long blond hair, and I-can-deal-out-a-world-of-hurt saunter.
Whew. She needed to reserve her imagination for her writing and not let it loose in real life. Turning, she unlocked her front door.
“Hey, hey, Josie!”
Josie turned to see Uzuri run across the lawn. How could anyone run so gracefully in high heels? That was just wrong. “Uzuri, how are you?”
Uzuri gave her a happy hug. “I was so sorry to hear about Mrs. Avery’s fall, only I didn’t hear about it until we were out of town and in Colorado of all places when there wasn’t anything I could do to help. How is she? Do you need any help? Holt said you and Carson are living here now. Are you finished moving in? How is Carson doing?”
“Was I supposed to understand all that?” Josie laughed. “Let’s see… Thank you, and I hope you had a good time. Oma’s doing well. No need for help. All our stuff is here now—still mostly in boxes. Carson likes the neighborhood.”
“You followed what I said? Girl, I don’t even remember what I asked. Damn, you’re impressive.”
“I am. How are you?” Josie held Uzuri at arm’s length to check her over. “Hey, you look really good…and happy. I’m sorry you left here though.” It would have been great to be closer to Uzuri; instead, she got the thunder-god-biker as a neighbor. “Did you move to somewhere awesome?”