“There are lots of small airfields in Alaska. Go find another one to round out Skyline’s holdings.”
“None of the others would put me in partnership with you.” He looked at her in a way that would leave her with no doubt of his ultimate goal. “But Trace isn’t selling, so I’ll have to be patient.”
“He’s never going to sell to you, Archer. If that’s what you’re after, you might as well pack up and leave. You can’t have the airfield, and you definitely can’t have me. You’re wasting your time.” Her statement came out loud in the silence between songs. Around them, heads turned.
He kept his voice low. “It’s my time to waste, but given enough of it, I bet I can.”
“What do you bet? Name it.” She played to the audience now. “Let’s settle it here and now.”
He stepped back as well and crossed his arms. Eyewitnesses weren’t necessarily a bad thing, but the terms of a bet had to be established fairly. “I’m not going to enter into any kind of wager that involves me leaving Captivity. Sorry, Bridge, but screw that.”
“Fine.” It wasn’t fine, judging by her expression, but she went on. “If I win, you leave me alone.” Crossing her arms to mimic his stance, she added, “That shouldn’t be too hard for you. Leaving me alone seems to be your specialty. You’ve done it almost perfectly for the last four years.”
Direct hit to a very sore spot, but he refused to let her see any damage. “I think it might be very hard, if not impossible, given this is a town of less than two thousand permanent residents. What’s ‘leaving you alone’ supposed to look like?”
“Like a fucking restraining order.” She pointed at him. “If you walk into The Goose, and I’m here, you turn around and walk out. If you see me on the street, you cross to the other side and pass by like a stranger.”
Clearly, she felt cornered, and that was on him, but the restraining order comment hit below the belt. “You don’t need a restraining order. I’m not here to menace you.” He tipped his head, regarded her with a calm he couldn’t truly claim, and let fire with a question guaranteed to have her playing into his hands. “What are you afraid of?”
Her eyes went wide. “Afraid? I’m not afraid of anything, Archer. Least of all you.”
“I don’t know. Kinda sounds like you’re afraid to be near me.” He moved closer to her, pleased to see she didn’t retreat. “I don’t think you’re afraid of me physically. I’d never lay a rough hand on you, and you know it. I think maybe you’re afraid of me on another level. Afraid of the memories? Afraid of the feelings I stir up?”
A hum of speculation went through the small crowd of onlookers. Bridget’s cheeks flushed with temper, and he battled a serious urge to kiss her. But then she really would get the restraining order.
“You’re confusing fear and disinterest.” One dark brow winged again as she gained confidence in her comeback. “I’m not interested in interacting with you. Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt, and got burned anyway.”
An oooh went through the bar as their spectators acknowledged the verbal scorch.
He kicked the corner of his mouth up into a grin. “Sounds like you’re saying I’m a little too hot for you.”
The line was so cocky, even Bridget had to laugh. “Jesus, Archie, you haven’t changed a bit.”
“I’ve changed a lot.” He kept his eyes on hers, holding her with the force of his gaze. “You’ll just have to get to know me better to realize it.”
“Sorry.” She shook her head. “Not interested, remember?”
“So, we’re back to the bet. If you win, you get your restraining order, with the understanding that I have to be able to move around. I have to be able to use the airfield, whether you’re there or not.” It was a bad bet, on her part. Captivity earned its name for a reason. Winter months literally held residents captive. Snow made the roads impassable. The cove froze, barring boats and ferries. The airfield became the only way in or out of the town, and that, too, remained subject to weather conditions. The world narrowed to the general store, the post office, The Goose, and a few other essential businesses. Interaction would be inescapable. On the other hand, winter was seven months away. Winning would buy her a lot of time and waste a lot of his.
She waved away his condition. “I acknowledge that you’re entitled to move around.”
“Great. Now, if I win…”
“Then no restraining order,” she interjected. “You get to move freely in Captivity. Approach me at your own risk.”
“Uh, that’s a one-sided wager, Bridge.”
The onlookers murmured their agreement.
She leaned back against the bar and looked at him from beneath the fringe of her bangs. “Fine. Name your stakes.”
He didn’t even have to think about it. “We’re old friends. If I win, I want to be greeted like an old friend. I want a kiss hello.”
“No.”
The response came so quickly she obviously hadn’t thought her position through. She’d set things up in his favor, and he played it as it lay, nodding sympathetically. “I understand.”
“Do you, now?” She crossed her ankles.
“Sure. You lied when you said you weren’t afraid of me. Obviously, you’re afraid to kiss me. The only thing I can’t figure out is if the fear stems from a lack of trust in me, or a lack of trust in yourself.”
More ooohs from the peanut gallery had her straightening. Hands fisted at her sides, she opened her mouth to fire back with a response but evidently got her temper under control because she closed it again. Smoothing her hands down her hips in a way that made his throat go dry, she smiled. Bridget could be wily. He remembered that well.
“What’s the contest?”
“You choose. My only condition is it happens tonight.” Kind of a risk, as she had a huge home court advantage, but he saw a pool table and a dart board and felt pretty good about his chances with either.
He watched her consider both of those options and reject them. “Does it have to be in the bar?”
“No. Wait. How much have you had to drink?”
She looked at the ceiling, doing a mental calculation. “Bunch of champagne at the reception. Couple tequila shots here.” A small frown furrowed her brows. “We’ll have to even that out.”
“No planes. No boats. No motor vehicles.” Giving consideration to where in the fifty states his boots were currently planted, he tacked on, “No guns. I’ll do a couple shots.”