Unfortunately, as soon as she walked out, the food he had ordered was set before him. Fine. He would eat, and then find Clara. He had to make sure she was okay. He had passed the bar on his way to this inn, and he wasn’t a fan of what he’d seen inside. One man was thrown out only moments after he had passed. He could only imagine what they would think of her.
Her slender figure made her appear an easy target. And, even though she glared most of the time, she was still stunningly beautiful. At least in his eyes. Any number of drunk men would think she was an excellent catch. He couldn’t force her into that.
He finished his food quickly, burning his mouth in the process. The taste lingered on his tongue, but as his feet hit the dirt road he couldn’t remember what he’d ordered. He marched across the street, suddenly desperate to find her. What was he thinking prodding her into staying at the bar? He should have immediately offered her his room. It was his job to protecther.Technically, she doesn’t want your protection.He tried to remind himself. But it didn’t work. Itwashis job to protect her.
He stepped into the bar, eyes scanning the room quickly, but there was no sign of her. Maybe she was already in a room upstairs? Maybe she had given up on this idea altogether? He took another step into the room, ducking to the side as a giant man barreled toward him carrying more drinks to his table of inebriated friends.
“Crap, Clara,” Carver muttered, all the more desperate to find her.
Finally, he saw her. His lungs fully expanded for the first time since he had turned her away at the inn. He walked towards her, but stopped to watch her instead.. She picked up a shot glass and didn’t seem to know what to do with it.
He smiled as he watched her deliberate. She sniffed it, grimacing, and it was the cutest thing he had witnessed in so long. He felt his heart tighten, and knew more than ever the only job he had on this assignment was to protect her. Command had asked him for enough. His kingdom was worthless to him if she wasn’t in it. And after what he’d seen on the last assignment, his loyalty to Quorath was already strained.
She gingerly took a sip, and Carver laughed as her face contorted and she coughed. The bar was too loud for Clara to hear his laughter, and he shook his head as she attempted a second sip. It was either perfect timing or just luck, but the bar stool next to Clara emptied as Carver headed towards her. He quickly grabbed the vacant stool.
“You’re supposed to take it as a shot, you know.” He commented without looking at her, not needing to see the surprise and anger, maybe frustration, that appeared on her face.
“Because you’re the expert on drinking?”
He shrugged. “Had a dark year. What can I say? Just another man who tried to find solace in the bottom of a bottle.” Though, he had been relatively sober for the past year. Minus the drink with Clara the day before.
She set the glass on the counter, eyeing it with disdain. “I don’t think this is for me.”
“No, I wouldn’t think it is. I was surprised you took the drink I offered you yesterday.”
“Desperate times, desperate measures?”
“What can I get for you?” The bartender asked, pausing their conversation.
“Surprise me. Nothing frilly.”
“You got it.”
The bartender brought back a glass with a massive ice cube, and an amber liquid swirling around it. He offered the glass to Clara, “Want to try it?”
She shook her head. “I think I’m a one and done when it comes to alcohol. What are you doing over here anyway? I thought you were so happy in your nice, warm, cozy inn room.”
He didn’t miss how she emphasized the adjectives; her room here must not be any of those. He nodded, taking a sip of his drink and biting back his own grimace. He liked the harsh taste, but it had been awhile since he’d had anything quite this strong. “Yeah, about that,” he tried to think through what he could offer as an excuse. She wouldn’t just agree to stay with him. Plus, he couldn’t stay with her. That was a terrible idea–a terribly fun idea. No, a terrible idea.
“She misread her room list. They had one room left and she accidentally overlooked it when you came in. By the time she realized, you were long gone. But she witnessed our interaction, asked if I knew you, and offered to let me reserve the room for you.” The lies fell from his mouth so naturally he barely thought once he started talking. He slipped his hand into his pocket,removing his room key, “I reserved the room for you. Here’s the key.” He set it in front of her.
She grabbed the key, faster than he expected. “Wait really? I can’t believe you did that for me.” The look in her eyes encouraged him far more than it should have. She leaned in to whisper, closer than he was comfortable with. He could feel his body reacting as her breath touched his cheek, “The rooms here are bloody awful.”
One statement and she leaned back, restoring the space between them and calming Carver’s frantic heart, at least a little bit. He took another drink. He had to stay cool. He couldn’t want her. He had to lie to himself about what he was currently feeling. It wasn’t his fault she was so hot.
“I can only imagine,” he responded, completely casual. Smooth was his middle name. “If you want to give me your key, I’ll return it after you leave. I’m staying here to drink for a bit.”
Her food arrived in front of her, and her eyes expanded with excitement. “This looks amazing.” She took a bite and Carver stared back at his drink. It was too much like old times. She was so different from the girl he had loved, and yet, she was still the girl he loved. Time hadn’t changed that the way he had hoped. “Was that your way of telling me I should eat and leave? Is my company that awful?”
She accented the statement with an eye roll, and it took everything in Carver not to grin back at her. “No, your company isn’t that awful. Only partially awful.” Then he did grin, hiding it behind his glass as he took another drink.
She balked at him, “Still such an asshole.”
If she had omitted the word still, perhaps the flirtation would have continued a little longer. Perhaps Carver would have poked her like he used to, or she would have laughed, leaning a little too far into his space as she did so. But the word “still” was all it took to sober Carver up. He couldn’t love her. He wasn’t allowed to.
As if she noticed the change in his posture and attitude, Clara honed her focus on her food, not commenting to him again. He downed the rest of his drink, and immediately requested another one. She paid for her food, and hesitated as she stood.
“I’m finishing my drink.” Carver remarked without looking at her, trying to get her to understand he wouldn’t walk over with her. “I trust you’re capable of making it across the street without my help.” He put as much edge as he could into his tone, knowing she would jump on the challenge and leave him.
