5. 5

5

Edie

M athias kissed me.

I knew he would try; I saw it coming as he walked me home after dinner, holding the gigantic umbrella over us both.

It had been a slow, kind of meandering walk home through the drizzle as the clouds threatened overhead and the wind tangled my hair. The storm was coming and it was coming fast, but we took our time.

He didn't mention shoes again but asked about what it was like growing up here.

Halfway back to my place, I decided I would allow it if he tried to kiss me.

He didn't even say anything about the bins in the alley as he paused outside my door, but as his lips touched mine and my eyes closed, I could smell the garbage.

It's the worst thing about living here, the fact that the door that leads up to my apartment opens in the alley. At least it's convenient when I park my car in one of the spots off the laneway, but walking in from the street is an obstacle course of trash that doesn't make it into the dumpster, broken-down cardboard boxes, and most recently, cat dishes because soft-hearted Kalle now feeds every stray in the area.

I've been living here long enough to get used to it, but it's never a pleasant smell in the summer. And it puts a little damper on things; but still, a good first kiss. One that might not go in your diary, but you'd still touch your lips the day after it happened.

Unfortunately, the shouting from the bar puts another damper on it. And then there's the crash.

I pull back, but Mathias's arm still circles my waist. "What's that?"

"Sounds like drunk people fighting. What kind of place does my cousin run?"

Mathias leans in again, but I turn my cheek. "I run." And then I take a step away from him, his hand sliding from my back.

"Are you going inside?" he demands with a sulky twist to the lips I've just been kissing.

"It's my bar," I tell him as I head for the kitchen door.

I don't know if it's a good idea for Mathias to follow me or not. Ducking through the kitchen, I'm reassured at the sight of Chase still at the sink. At the bar, Dillon is in his usual spot—right beside Fenella Carrington—but Kalle is nowhere in sight.

Because he's in the middle of the fray around the pool table.

The King's Hat is a bar frequented by fishermen, so it's normal for there to be the odd skirmish when they need to blow off steam. Actually, bar fights are pretty common, and when they're sober, there's an unspoken rule among the patrons not to touch Kalle.

After a good evening of drinking, that's not always the case. Especially when Prince Kalle of Laandia takes it upon himself to break up a fight. I've seen him take a right hook to the eye and keep standing only be dropped by a pool cue to the back and then getting his legs taken out from under him.

I've also seen him pick up a man and physically throw him out the door.

Kalle has the Erickson physique, and at six foot four and well over two hundred and twenty pounds, he can hold his own. Plus, there's always Dillon and Chase to back him up. They don't like to interfere unless it's absolutely necessary because it would be too easy for them to seriously hurt someone.

Me, on the other hand…

"That's enough," I shout, heading into the melee, still in my dress and my high heels, lips just a little swollen from Mathias's kisses. "Everyone—drop."

No one listens, or they can't hear me over the shouting and cheering, as well as the Dropkick Murphys blasting over the speakers about going out in style. The music gives the scene a surreal sensation, or maybe it's me wading into a bar fight after enjoying a very nice dinner with a prince.

I pull Teddy Billings away from Danno McElving and give Micky Fish a shove in the chest to send him back against the pool table. Grabbing the still unbroken beer bottle from the table, I give someone a sharp elbow as I make my way over to Kalle, who holds Jubblie Mark in a version of a full nelson wrestler's hold, with Mark's arms over his head. Ken McKibbon still whacks his considerable belly with the pool triangle as Coy Schmidt cheers him on.

Kalle's arms are thick with muscles, his T-shirt hiked up on one side to show an inch of skin .

I tell myself it's not the sight of him like that that has me pausing for a quick moment. I'm just making sure he's not hurt. "Boys!" I raise my voice so everyone in the place can hear. "That's enough."

Kalle turns to me. "Hey, how was your date?" he asks with a grin. His eyes have lost the angry cast from earlier.

He's enjoying himself.

"You need to let him go now," I tell him, grabbing the pool rack as Ken tries to bring it down on Kalle's shoulder. "Enough of this, Ken," I bark. "Go home now. Tyler," I call to the bartender hovering wide-eyed behind the bar. "Kill the music."

He does and it's surprising how quickly the ruckus dies down.

Or maybe it's the sight of me standing in the middle of things. Because even as drunk as they get, those who frequent The King's Hat would never lay a hand on a woman.

They're good guys that way.

"Miss Edie," Jubblie Mark gasps as Kalle tightens his grip just before he releases him. "I dinnae do nothin' wrong?"

"Of course not, Mark, but it's time to go home now. Are we finished here?" I ask Kalle.

"I had it under control." And he laughs.

Usually, the sound of Kalle's laughter lightens my heart but not now. "Everyone break it up or I'm sending Chase over," I threaten.

"No, Dillon. I still have dishes to do," Chase calls from the doorway of the kitchen.

The men—and one woman, Shirl Crow, who takes every opportunity she can to get into a fight, and to who the not- hitting-women rules don't apply—back away, returning to their chairs and two-person high tables.

I pick up the broken chair. "Whose tab is this coming out of?" I call. "I told you—leave the furniture and the windows alone."

"Mine." Jubblie Mark hangs his head. "I'm sorry."

"That's twice in the past six months." I shake my finger at him. "One more and I'm banning you and you'll have to go to Sailor's to drink." Without waiting for a response, I turn away from him and head back to the bar with Kalle following me.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mathias is aghast mouth open, eyes furious. "You could have been killed!"

Kalle laughs and slings an arm around my shoulders. "No one's touching her," he assures him, his familiarity for once feeling out of place and uncomfortable.

"Why, because you'll protect her?" Mathias demands. "You were doing nothing of the sort."

"Edie doesn't need protecting," Kalle says, pouring himself a pint.

My gaze flits to a framed picture on the wall. It's too far for me to see the faces but I know where Kalle stands in the middle of the back row, with a huge grin and his arm around the guy beside him. With his skates on, he's almost a head taller than anyone else on the team. It was the first year he played with the Laandia Junior Men's hockey team, and they won it all.

Kalle had been away practicing with the team, but came home for Christmas, a few days before the holiday dance. When he came to see me, I was in tears because I had just broken up with Greg Kaan .

I wasn't crying over Greg, or the fact I didn't have a date to the dance, but because Greg turned out to be the type of guy who had no qualms about laying hands on women.

Women being me.

I had never felt so stupid—for caring about someone who was capable of that, for not seeing the signs, and for letting things get that far. I never told anyone in my family because telling one of my sisters would have been the same as telling my parents and the rest of the town—and I'd rather lick my wounds in private than have everyone know.

But I told Kalle.

"Stop crying," he demanded. "He doesn't deserve you."

"I don't deserve anyone if I'm that stupid to fall for a guy like that."

I wanted Kalle to say something like you deserve me but instead, he just pulled me close. I'll never forget the scent of him that day.

"You're not stupid," he said into my hair. "You're brilliant and beautiful and no guy will ever touch you like that again."

The next day, Greg Kaan had a broken nose and Kalle missed the first game of the series because of two broken fingers.

"She's been trained by the best," Dillon chimes in from his seat at the bar, pulling me back from the past.

Kalle notices me staring at the picture and gives me his half-grin. I give my head a shake and turn back to the conversation going on about me because Mathias is like a dog with a bone and isn't letting this go.

"And what kind of security team are you when you sit back and let something like that happen?" Mathias rounds on Dillon, who shrugs .

"I step in when it gets out of hand. They're just blowing off steam."

"Blowing off steam? There was a broken chair."

Dillon frowns. Most of the date/kiss/bar fight adrenaline has vanished and all I feel is annoyance at Kalle.

And Mathias.

"I'm a newbie to the town but even I know that's how things go down around here."

I glance over in surprise. Fenella Carrington stares at Mathias with a mix of disdain and disgust. "Instead of fussing about it, why don't you see that she has a drink, because she looks like she needs one," she adds in her contemptuous drawl.

I never could have imagined I would ever feel gratitude toward Fenella Carrington.