Page 2 of Enticed

It’s the same resolution every time, the variation changing slightly with each encounter. The truth of the matter is, it’s a shame I even know the comeback so well. But it’s been three long months of the same shit, different day—running over to Tony’s every time she’s had too much.

“I know you’re a grown ass woman, Clara—believe me,” I say through clenched teeth, pinching the bridge of my nose before continuing. “But you’re also incredibly drunk and unable to get yourself home safely. So although you think you can do whatever the fuck you want, I’m pretty sure the last thing you want is to wrap your car around a tree or better yet, get taken advantage of by a cab or Uber driver. So grab your shit so I can get you home safely, you understand?”

Clara falters in her movements, standing still while her eyes bounce back and forth between mine. And I see it there—the fear she refuses to face, the tears that threaten to spill over each time she sees me and her mind veers back to that night, the night that changed her forever.

To everyone else, she still seems like the same old Clara during the day—wise ass extraordinaire, confident and tactical advertising executive who lives her life one day at a time and dances to the beat of her own drum. She’s still the same sassy girl that grew up at my house, attached to my sister and their other two friends at the hip, tormenting and teasing me throughout my adolescence until they all left for college.

But on these nights—the nights when I pick her up after she’s had too many in an attempt to escape her memories, the nights when I know she really wants to let it all out but buries her feelings under alcohol and pretends that everything is just peachy—I get to see the other side of Clara, the woman who survived an attack on her life and now lives with that reality every day. This woman is actually quite vulnerable and not as carefree as she seems.

She sure puts on one hell of a mask to hide behind though.

Clara’s raw look quickly flickers away as her eyes slowly slide down my torso to my crotch, her tongue darting out between her lips before she peruses my body again on the way back up to my face.

“Good thing I have you to take care of me then, huh?” She flirts with me shamelessly, another instance of these encounters I’ve come to expect. Her hand reaches out to rest on my pec, her fingers dancing delicately across my chest as she closes the gap between us.

“Take me home, Coop,” she whispers in my ear, and fuck if the sweet rasp of her voice doesn’t make my dick twitch.

I’m such an asshole. I should NOT be turned on right now, but regardless of Clara’s inebriated state, I’m still a man—with eyes and a dick—and I have never failed to realize how beautiful Clara truly is.

The thought slides into my mind just as quickly as I force it out. I will not allow myself to go there, especially when she’s drunk off her ass.

I grip her wrist firmly, but not too hard so I don’t startle her, slowly easing her hand back down by her side.

“Clara, it’s time to go,” I declare sternly, pinning her still with my serious gaze.

She huffs and then pivots on her heels, but not before throwing words over her shoulder. “You’ll give in one day, Cooper,” she smirks as she turns back around and stumbles over to her table to fetch her purse.

Two older men sitting atop stools at her table give her cheesy grins as she makes her way back over, leaning in to kiss both of them on the cheeks before she turns back to me.

“Bob. Chuck. Nice to see you boys again. Unfortunately, Deputy Walsh here has put an end to my fun tonight,” she tosses her disdain my way.

“Aww, what a buzz kill,” Chuck spits out, literally, as drops of saliva fly through the air.

“Right? You’d think he would let me have my fun, but NOOOOO,” she rolls her eyes before reaching for the rest of her drink, tossing it back and wincing as the alcohol glides down her throat.

“Well, we will just have to make up for it next time,” Bob winks at her, showing his smile missing a few teeth. The urge to gag overcomes me but I reel it in. Bob and Chuck have been residents of Emerson Falls since before I was born, so I know they mean no harm. But they definitely have learned to appreciate Clara in her drunken glory, which makes me irritated—why, I’m not ready to admit.

Clara wrinkles her nose and then leans into both men, securing hugs. “Definitely.”

As she walks away from the table, purse slung over her shoulder and shoes in her hand, she stumbles and trips a couple more times as she says goodbye to her ‘friends.’ A table of older women encourage her to dance some more around them, shimmying her hips and shaking her chest in their faces, offering them some motorboat action before she laughs and saunters away.

I can’t help the small chuckle that escapes my lips, but I clear my throat and straighten my lips quickly as to not give myself away.

A group of younger men around the pool tables all devour her with their eyes as she walks past, swinging her ass more for an added effect, knowing exactly that their attention is on her. She blows them a kiss and winks as we finally approach the door and Tony stops in front of her.

“Tony,” she narrows her eyes at him as he stands there, looking down at her in that fatherly way that I’ve seen him use on Kane, my sister’s fiancé.

“Clara,” he sighs, reaching out to pull her into his chest. He whispers something in her ear while I attempt to overhear, but the noise in the room drowns out his voice. She retreats and shakes her head, hanging it low before popping back up and acting like his words didn’t just affect her.

She never turns around to check that I’m still here, probably knowing that I won’t let her out of my sight, just like every other time. I pass by Tony, who reaches out to shake my hand and nods, a silent understanding passing between us that we’ve both done our jobs. Although my part isn’t over yet.

Clara sways in her steps along the asphalt accompanied by her giggles, the feel of rocks under her bare feet can’t be comfortable, although she’s probably had enough alcohol to numb that pain. We reach my cruiser as I unlock the doors and guide her into the back seat behind the metal barricade to separate us.

“This always feels like I’m in some sort of trouble, and not the good kind,” she wines as I settle into the driver’s seat and fire up the engine. The computer on my dash glows in the cab, lighting up the space and streaming with a flow of information that I missed while inside.

“Well, you kind of are in trouble,” I answer her as I pull out of the parking lot and head for Clara’s home.

“You should put the cuffs on me then, Coop… you know, for the full effect.”

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