Guiding Lights

  Guiding Lights

  Jessica Florence

  This is a work of fiction. Names, Places, Characters, and Events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events, and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of those terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  Jessica Florence© August 2015

  Editing by Rebecca

  Cover by Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations ©

  Lyrics by Author MA Scott

  ISBN-13:

  978-1516809721

  ISBN-10:

  1516809726

  Dear Friend, this is for you

  <3

  Chapter One

  It was a busy night at Spurtle Pub. I never understood why Evan, the owner and my boss, named his pub after a wooden spoon, but it wasn’t my place to judge. Ever since I left my home in Morocco when I was seventeen, I’ve been on the move. Now seven years later, I’ve found myself bartending at a pub in Durness, Scotland. It was a beautiful little town by the sea in the highlands. It was perfect. Small. An easy place to stay invisible from the world.

  “Bonnie quine, top ay mah water o' life will ye.” A bearded man in front of me asked. It had taken me a few weeks to learn the language; some had a strong accent, while others didn’t. It was so different. They spoke English, but not. It was purely fascinating.

  “Sure thing,” I said as I grabbed the whiskey bottle and topped him off just as he asked.

  He smiled and took a long guzzle while looking me over. It was a perusal I was used to. Even in my homeland, I was a beauty. My caramel color hair was long and straight. It made my greyish green eyes with their long lashes pop against my olive colored skin. My full lips were what lipstick commercials were made of. As I got glasses filled with ice for two other customers, I watched the bearded man admire the rest of me.

  My petite frame wasn’t much to write home about. I stood at a comfortable five foot three, and I never wore heels. But the jeans and t-shirt uniform I had to wear for work left little to imagination. My bigger B size breasts caught the eye because of the wooden spoon that ran across the front of my t- shirt. I just shook my head and kept on serving customers. Beauty was a curse. My life would have a whole different story if I had been born a hag.

  This particular Saturday was busy because of the open mic night. We usually had this twice a week for random local singers and bands to come entertain the night crowd. So far, tonight’s list was nothing spectacular. But music was music, and it kept everyone happy.

  A light sweat was starting to glisten my face at all the running around when I heard the next singer step up to the mic. I spared a glance that way only to see a man bending over to pick up a guitar. He had a nice backside, I thought as I went back to work.

  “Alright ye braw laddies 'n' lasses, shut yer traps,” the singer spoke into the mic. A small smile broke out at his demand for them to close their mouths. I hoped for his sake that they didn’t end up throwing their fish supper at him once he got started.

  His fingers started strumming low notes on an old acoustic guitar. I checked over everyone at the bar and turned back to the singer. The way he started humming against the mic sent tingles into the pit of my stomach. His eyes were closed, but even from twenty feet away, I could tell he was very attractive. Long brown hair was pulled back and tied in a little bun on the top of his head. His beard was thick and surrounded his perfectly shaped mouth. Even with his beard you could see his strong, sharp jaw. I found myself leaning against the bar, waiting to hear his voice. Would it be rough and broken with his accent?

  He kept his eyes closed as he started to sing, and my body trembled at his voice.

  Satin lips taste of champagne

  Her leather pants leave a stain upon her skin

  A couple sniffs, the line disappears

  She stays in my bed, wanting to be hidden, begging

  His was voice was low and deep. It was smooth and reached down into your soul. You could feel him baring himself for all to hear. I looked around to see I wasn’t the only one enthralled. He had the whole room watching him. Hanging on for every morsel of word he would give us. When my gaze flicked back toward him, I was shocked to see honey-colored eyes staring back at me. Trapping me like quicksand, I couldn’t look away.

  Come on, baby, numb the pain

  Give me pills, I’ll use the rain to wash them down

  I promise that I’m not insane

  Give me pills or else I’m out

  On the nightstand is our picture

  I look at it and it seems so long ago

  Her hand is propped upon her stomach

  She made her choice and now she’s hollow

  Tears started gathering at his words. So deep, so sad. His probing stare stayed glued to mine. Gauging my reactions.

  Come on, baby, numb the pain

  Give me pills, I’ll use the rain to wash them down

  I promise that I’m not insane

  Give me pills or else I’m out

  And right now, yesterday is minutes away

  I’m sorry I can’t be what she needs

  But I got her a new prescription

  To make sure her heart won’t bleed.

  Come on, baby, numb the pain

  Give me pills, I’ll use my tears to wash them down

  I promise that I’m not insane

  Give me pills and then I’m out.

  The pub was eerily silent when he finished the last note on his guitar. We were all stunned. His eyes flared when the tears I had been holding finally fell. I knew what he saw. He recognized the broken soul inside me. It mirrored the one that I could see in him. Not wanting to let him see any more, I turned my back on him and went back to filling drink orders.

  “Hell, I think I might just grab that fine lad and take him around back and go doggin.” Emma, Evan’s daughter, who happened to be the other bartender, said as she pushed her breasts up while staring at the singer. I shook my head at her brazen comment. Too bad, I knew it would probably happen. Emma was gorgeous. She was tall; a feisty blonde with big green eyes and a killer body. She would drag him outside and do him in the back of her car. She had a way with men like that. They melted at her every whim. I envied her sometimes. I wished I could handle men like that. But that was a line I would never cross. I was broken, and no man would want me. I wouldn’t put myself through the heart break of even trying.

  “Gless o' whiskey, please.” I poured a glass and turned toward the voice to put it down and came up short. The voice belonged to the man who had just brought me to tears.

  “Here,” I said, setting the glass down. I tried not to look him in the eyes as I helped other customers. He didn’t say anything to me. He just sat there taking small sips of his drink while people came up to him, telling him they liked his performance. He was polite and thanked them before they walked away nicely.

  Occasionally, my gaze would flicker and betray my interest. Sometimes, they would meet his honey eyes, and sometimes, just the brown bun on the back of his head. Laughing to myself at how stupid I was acting, I decided it was the perfect time to take my short break. It was getting close to closing time, and the crowd was starting to disperse.

  After telling Emma I was going on break, I went through the kitchen and out the back door. It was the beginning of September, but the weather was already starting to cool so a long sleeve shirt or a light sweater was perfect. But tonight, in just my uniform shirt, I shivered a little. Leaning on the railing, I loo
ked up and stared at the clear night sky.

  “Tis quite cold out tonight.”

  A startled scream erupted as someone scared the shit out of me. I looked down to see the singer standing below me, his hands in the pockets of his well-worn jeans. The sleeves of his grey sweater were rolled up to his elbows, while the rest of it hugged his obviously muscular torso.

  “What the hell are you doing out here?” I said, my hand over my heart. I didn’t mean it to come out so harshly, but I couldn’t take it back now.

  “I noticed mah song had an effect on ye. Wanted tae make sure ye were alright.” He shrugged and continued to stand there. He wanted to make sure I was ok? I was fine; plus, for the first-time in my twenty-three years, a man’s voice gave me tingles. Stupid.

  “Thanks, I’m ok.” It was quick and to the point. I wasn’t sure I wanted this smooth singing Scot to keep talking to me, so maybe he would leave now that he knew I was ok.

  “Ah see. What’s yer name, bonnie?” His lips turned up in a grin; he wasn’t having anything to do with my plan to get him to leave. Oh well, I had nothing to be afraid of by telling him my name.

  “Monera. But I liked to be called Nera.”

  “Nera, bonnie name.” I could feel the heat of the blush in my cheeks; he’d said my name was beautiful.

  “I’m Wolfe. And before ye ask, mah maw was a bit of a nature nut.” He smiled at the mention of his mother. I found myself smiling along with him.

  “Well, it was nice meeting you, Wolfe, but I’ve got to get back to work. Thanks for checking on me.” I gave him a little wave and opened the door to go back inside.

  I heard his hearty chuckle before the door closed. My heart was beating rapidly at our encounter. Why did he have such an effect on me?

  Chapter Two

  I woke up to the smell of bacon and coffee. Reluctantly, my eyes peeled open to see a fresh beam of sunlight sneaking in through my curtains. Working the late shift at the pub always left me a little groggy in the morning. But nothing would make me miss out on Evan’s wife’s cooking.

  When I first came to Durness five months ago, I stopped into the Spurtle for a break. Just looking around, not sure of where I was going to head next. After talking with Evan for what seemed like hours, he offered me a job and a place to stay. He and his wife owned the pub and a bed and breakfast within walking distance of each other. It was highly convenient; if people got too drunk, they could just go and stay at the B&B.

  Shoving the covers off, I slipped on my slippers and trudged to the bathroom. I yawned widely as I took in my morning appearance. My hair was a mess, and there was a bit of dried up drool in the corners of my mouth. Lovely.

  After throwing my hair in a bun, washing my face, and putting on a bra, I left my room and went down to the kitchen.

  “There’s mah wee darling,” Aggie, Evan’s wife, commented. She was a sweet woman, a mother hen to all who entered her home. She was part of what truly made me stay in Durness. She was warm and had so much love for someone she didn’t know. She treated me like a daughter. Which, thankfully, Emma never had a problem with; she and I were friends. Aggie and Evan were a cute older couple. They were both a little on the heavy side, but with sweet smiles and big hearts. Aggie was beautiful with her short brown, curly hair. It went well with Evan’s feisty Scot fire-red hair.

  Just then, Evan strolled in and gave his wife a big kiss on the cheek before smacking her on the behind. He gave me a wink as he took some of the plates of food and carried them out to the dinning room. I could hear people up and chatting in there already.

  “Morning, Aggie. Need any help with anything?” I asked while hopping onto a bar stool, watching her get flour all over her counters. Fresh biscuits were on the menu this morning, and I couldn’t wait to dig into those babies.

  “Here darling, ye can take these out tae the table. But na stealing any till the others have a fair chance.” She knew me so well. She handed me the basket of biscuits, giving me the warning glare that all of those biscuits better make it to the table. A giggle slipped out as I took them out to the guests.

  The table sat ten comfortably, but there were only five people there this morning. The B&B had eight bedrooms and six bathrooms. Some of the rooms had a bathroom attached and some didn’t. Thankfully, they gave me one with a bathroom. I’d spent enough time sharing a bathroom when I stayed in hostels; I wanted some privacy.

  “Oo Biscuits!” a girl about my age rejoiced. She was sitting on the end with a boy who I assumed was her boyfriend next to her. He just kept stuffing his face with eggs and listening to the older couple sitting across from them.

  That couple had been here for a couple of days now. Bucket listers. They were traveling all around the world, crossing things off their list of things to do before they died. They were from America, Californians. Sweet people.

  Then there was a lone man sitting next to the old couple. He was also listening to the couple as they talked about their adventures thus far. I would guess he was in his forties. He had brown hair with signs of grey coming in and was tall and stalky. He looked like a very solid man.

  “Here you go,” I sang as I set the biscuits down. I watched as they all grabbed one and went back to what they were doing. With glee, I snatched one and took a big bite. Oh, it was heaven. Growing up, my mother never made anything different than chicken and rice. After I left, I vowed I would eat everything, and I had to vow to run every day too. It was a double edged sword.

  “Mornin,” a rough voice spoke behind me. I turned to get out of the way and stopped to stare, mouth stuffed with food and all.

  Wolfe was standing there in plaid pajama pants with a black sweater hugging his chest. His hair was disheveled and put in a messy bun like mine. I wondered what it looked like down. It was then I noticed his face was etched in amusement. I finished chewing my large chunk of biscuit and swallowed it down slowly. I bit my lip and looked down at myself. Yep, I was still wearing my ‘I like big books and I cannot lie’ t-shirt with my purple sweat pants. My cheeks turned red thinking about how much of a hot mess I was.

  I didn’t know what to say in this awkward situation, so I walked around him to the kitchen. He was just a man; I really didn’t see why I was reacting so strangely to him.

  I grabbed the pitchers of water and coffee then strolled back into the dining room like I hadn’t just awkwardly run away.

  I succeeded in not looking at Wolfe until I was forced to sit next to him. Aggie and Evan had given me no choice.

  “Mornin Nera, biscuit?” he asked with a smirk. But ha, the joke was on him; nothing would keep me away from my biscuits. Not even my pride.

  “Yes, please,” I answered sweetly.

  He passed them over to me. I went to take the basket from him when our fingers touched. An electric zing traveled up my hand and broke off into all of my nerve endings. My body grew warm and instantly wanted more of his touch. I snatched the biscuits away, cutting off the connection. I could afford to find someone attractive, and he was definitely that. But I couldn’t afford to act on those feelings.

  “Thank you,” I told him and started eating.

  “So Nelson, what brings ye tae Durness?” Aggie had a thing against silence, which had descended over the table. The solid man, apparently named Nelson, answered.

  “Just drifting around, searching for my ancestral roots.” That was nice; he was looking for where he’d come from. We saw a lot of people coming in trying to see where their ancestors had lived.

  “Oh well, that's bonnie, if ye need any help don’t be scared tae come ask me. Ah love a good challenge,” she cheered. She would do anything for her guests, we were all truly blessed.

  “What about ye, Wolfe?” Evan piped in. Wolfe took a sip of his coffee and spoke. His voice was something I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to. His accent only made the tingles in my stomach worse.

  “Just trying tae get away from the madness for a while.” I hadn’t expected that answer, but something in it struck
a chord within me. I turned to look at him; I wanted to see his face. His face was hard; there was no smirk to be found. I thought back to the previous night, his song, his voice. To the broken man I had seen inside him. Before I knew what I was doing, my hand reached under the table and grabbed his, giving it a light squeeze.

  His gaze flew to mine, and I realized what I had done. I tried to pull my hand back, but his grip tightened around mine, unwilling to let me go. I saw it there in his eyes, there was the broken man recognizing the broken woman in me. I needed to look away, but I couldn’t. That side of me was not something I wanted to free, and I couldn’t let anyone inside, no matter who they were. I had secrets that had to stay hidden, and no sultry, sexy, bearded singing Scot was going to draw them out of me.

  I tried again to release my hand from his grip. I silently pleaded for him to let it go. All of it. Let me go; don’t try to figure me out because it won’t end well. He let go, but gave me one last look before turning his attention back to his plate.

  Determination.

  Chapter Three

  “Thanks for breakfast, I think I’m going to go back up to my room now.” I excused myself and grabbed my plate to take to the kitchen.

  “Me as well, breakfast was grand; I’ll catch ye later Evan.” I heard him say from the kitchen. As quickly as I could, I washed my plate and headed for the stairs. My fingers gripped then knob when I heard him speak behind me.

  “Want some company today?” he asked. With my hand still on the knob, I turned toward him. He was just standing there leaning against the wall, looking at me curiously.

  “Um, I was just going to read today. Not sure that would be very entertaining,” I said politely. I really hadn’t planned on doing much, and as much as I didn’t want to spend time with him, I knew I did want to spend time around him. Maybe we could be friends, and that would end the little infatuation I have going on.

  “What do ye like to read?” He sounded like he was honestly curious. I gave a shrug and opened the door, letting him follow me in.