Close to the Edge (HUDDLING FOR WARMTH #2) by Cassie Mint EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Cassie Mint
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Tess
It’s a Friday evening, the sun’s still out, and I’m two hours into my shift at
Flint’s. It’s busy, and the air is muggy from all the bodies pressed up against
the bar. The din makes my ears ring. Every booth inside is full, and most of the
bench tables outside are crammed with sunburned tourists huddling over
maps and splitting baskets of salty fries, trying to figure out their routes for the
weekend.
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My arms ache as I hold a tray aloft, weaving through the tightly-packed
crowd, until I get outside into the lukewarm breeze. It ruffles the escaped frizz
from my ponytail and wafts against my black Flint’s polo, tickling where the
fabric is stuck to my sweaty back.
Four more hours to go.
A line of motorbikes gleam in the sunshine out here, driven off the road
onto the scraggly grass, and their riders smoke and laugh together at their own
bench table, all red-faced and sweating in their leathers.
They grunt and wink when I put their drinks down, but they’re harmless
really. Bunch of old, balding fellas out for a mountain ride.
Seems a nice life to me.
Rock music floats from the bar out to the yard, and around the tables a few
tired mutts are flopped at their owners’ feet, sighing against their paws. I bring
the pups water in between rounds of drinks for the customers. They each perk
up at the stainless steel bowl, tails wagging hopefully, then dive face first into
the water and don’t come up until it’s gone.
Good. This long, hot summer is no joke, and the grass I’m walking back
and forth across is parched.
My feet throb in my sneakers and my bra strap rubs, chafing at my
shoulder, but those are minor irritations. The kind of things I can swat away
like a horse with a fly.
Because I’m in the zone. Processing order after order like a pro, half lost in
my own world as I work on autopilot, reloading the dishwasher and pouring
whiskey sours. My hands move without conscious input from my brain,
wiping down spills on the bar and plopping paper straws in tall glasses, and all
the while my mind is halfway up the nearest mountain.
Rowan.
It’s been a year since my big brother came back to society, coaxed back to
the real world by his now-wife Evie. Before then, he’d been living in a cave up
near the peak, roaming barefoot and bare-chested like a wild man, chased
away from Starlight Ridge by the demons in his head.
Chased away from me, too. His only family worth mentioning. Oh, our
folks are still alive and kicking, so far as I know, but they were too
embarrassed at their son’s wild man antics to stick around and try to help.
They preferred to start over somewhere new, somewhere without the
peskiness of having to love someone damaged by war.
Somewhere without their disappointing daughter, too, who never
amounted to anything more than a perfectly made cocktail—and who certainly
didn’t trap one of those rich men with the helicopters who vacation around
here like they hoped.
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