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“Stupid, arrogant, self-obsessed jerk,” Rogue mumbled as he made his way out of the resort and headed for his cabin on the edge of town. He would have preferred something a little deeper in the woods, but if he was going to try and run a hunting business, he would need to be closer to where the guests of Mystic Pines were, not so remote they’d never find him.
But as he passed the one tavern in Mystic Pines, The Frosted Mug, he decided to head in for a much needed drink. He didn’t imbibe too often, but today, he deserved a night to relax and toss back a few, or ten.
“What can I get you, Rogue?” Dane, the owner and bartender, asked.
“Double shot of whiskey with a beer chaser,” Rogue told him.
“I’ve got Bud Light, Michelob Ultra, Husky, or Amber on tap.” Dane was already pouring his shot and setting it in front of Rogue by the time he got all that out.
“Amber.” As if there were any other option. Both the Amber and Husky came from the Alaskan Brewing Company, which was all Rogue ever drank when it came to beer. There were a couple of varieties he would have taken, but he wasn’t a fan of the citrus flavor in the Husky.
Normally he sipped his whiskey, but the moment he picked up the glass, the door opened and in walked Axom. “Fuck,” Rogue cursed as he downed the double shot.
Savoring the warmth that slid down his throat and sank into his stomach, he reached for the beer and downed half of that, too. Good thing, since Axom noticed him and damn if the man’s eyes didn’t light up like a Christmas tree in excitement.
He even bounced as he skipped over to the bar. What adult male in the world skips? Don’t get him wrong, Axom was a nice guy and Rogue considered him a friend. They had even gone hunting a few times together, but ever since Spencer Clarke and Reese Alston saw something in the woods that they thought was a monster, Axom was insistent it was Bigfoot and had become obsessed.
According to his friends, Axom was always that way when it came to Bigfoot, aliens, other dimensions and even ghosts. Rogue just hadn’t witnessed his odd behavior until recently.
In his thirty years, not once had Rogue seen anything that might have even been considered Bigfoot and he was often out in some of the most remote parts of Alaska. It amazed him that someone who had grown up in the mountains of Tennessee, like Axom, would believe in the nonsense of Bigfoot.
But not only did Axom believe in the big hairy creature, he also thought there were aliens, other dimensions, sea creatures, and a dozen other weird phenomenon that apparently existed right there in Alaska. Axom called it the Alaskan Triangle.
Rogue called it ridiculous.
Add to all Axom’s bizarre beliefs was the way he dressed. Not that Rogue had a problem with men wearing... Lord help him, was Axom seriously wearing feathers? Rogue blinked as he took in the bright blues and greens of the man’s pants and shirt, as well as a long, fitted jacket that hung down to his knees edged in blue, green, and yellow feathers.
“Are you supposed to be a peacock?” Dane asked when Axom got to the bar.
Axom preened, turning from one side to the other as if trying to show off. Then he did a spin so they could see the entire outfit. Now that Dane said it, Rogue saw it perfectly. Axom was a frigging peacock.
“I decided to wear something special for the wedding rehearsal this evening,” Axom told them as if that would explain why he thought he should resemble a brightly colored bird.
Rogue narrowed his gaze a bit in the dimness of the tavern as he saw something flutter out from Axom’s eyes. “Are there feathers on your eyelashes?”
That had to be wrong, didn’t it? No way could someone manage to have feathers attached to their eyelashes. Could they?
Axom batted his lashes several times as he smiled broadly. “Why, yes. Thank you for noticing. I swear, these suckers weren’t easy to put on and with the freezing temperatures outside, I was worried they might stick to my face, but thank baby Jesus that it decided not to snow.”
Rogue would have thought it would be awkward, but he had to admit, the look was stunning and Axom pulled it off as no one else could. He still wasn’t sure why Axom insisted on wearing clothes that were completely inappropriate for winter in Alaska, but Rogue wasn’t about to get into that conversation with the man – again. If the man wanted to freeze, it was his choice.
“Anyway,” Axom said. “I saw you entering the tavern Rogue, and since I’m early for the rehearsal, I thought I’d come in and see if you liked any of the ideas I showed you for your business. It will only be a couple of more weeks before we start getting paying guests and you don’t want to be without something to advertise when they get here.”
That was the reason Rogue had taken the double shot all at once. He appreciated that Axom wanted to help, but Rogue wasn’t into... gimmicks for his business.
“At least do the shirts and sweatshirts.” Axom must have seen that Rogue was about to tell him no. “Trust me, once they go hunting for bear, moose, and bison they are going to want a t-shirt that claims they did. It’s not like they can take the head around with them to show it off to their friends. This will be the experience of a lifetime for most of these people and they are going to want to commemorate it.”
Rogue glanced at Dane, who shrugged. Lot of help he was.
“Fine.” It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford a few shirts to have around. “But that’s all.”
Axom frowned. “But you’ll also need brochures of the various hunts you offer. You’re going to want those for the resort to hand out to their guests so they’ll know about you.” Then Axom pulled out his phone. “Also, you haven’t told me the name of your business yet. I’ll need them for the shirts and the brochures.”
Rogue frowned. “Name?” He’d had to fill out a name for the license to become a hunting guide, but he’d never really thought about having to use a name for guests. “I thought I’d just call it bear hunting, or bison hunting, or whatever we’d be hunting that day.”
Axom blinked. Those long feathers fanning his face. Then he blinked again. “Please tell me you’re joking.” When Rogue didn’t answer, Axom appeared as if he were about to faint.
“You can’t do that,” Axom shouted. “It would be like finding Bigfoot with my eyes closed - pointless.”
“Huh?” Both Rogue and Dane said together.
“You two are hopeless, you know that?” Axom started to pace back and forth across the front of the bar. Then he sat down on a bar stool and said, “Get me a drink.”
Dane just looked at him. When a full five minutes passed without either of them saying a word, Dane sighed. “Are you going to tell me what kind of drink you want, or should I guess?”
Axom waved a hand at Dane. “What difference does it make? I just need a drink.”
Then he turned on his seat, ignoring the fact that Dane let out a heavy sigh ending with a mischievous glint in his eye. Rogue had no clue what Dane had in store for Axom, but he was fairly sure Axom would regret not being specific.
Positive he was going to need it, Rogue pushed his empty tumbler at Dane and gestured for the man to fill it since there was no way he was getting a word in around Axom who was going on and on about branding.
“I mean how are people who loved going hunting with you as their guide, going to talk about your business on social media? What company would they tag?” If only Rogue had a clue as to what the man was talking about.
Sure, Rogue heard people talk about social media, but since he spent most of his time in the middle of nowhere with zero cell phone reception, it wasn’t as if he’d had time to find out what all the fuss was about. That said, he feared what would happen if he told Axom any of that.
If only Axom hadn’t decided to ask, “What did you put for a name when you signed up for social media? It’s not like you can just use your name since you already used it for your personal stuff. It wouldn’t be right to also have it for business since you’d want to portray a different image.”
Axom shook his head. “Not different, just not quite the same. Like you wouldn’t want your mom to post funny family pics that have nothing to do with the business, right?”
Rogue was sure he had that deer in the headlights look on his face at the moment.
Hoping to get him off the social media topic, Rogue tried going back to the one that was still bugging him. “Look, I appreciate you wanting to do brochures, but I doubt the resort is going to hand them out after the way Kip reacted to what I do for a living.”
Axom turned toward Dane. “We’re going to need that drink, like now.” Then he refocused on Rogue. “Let me guess, he called you a murderer.”
Rogue winced. “Pretty much. He also told me I kill things to prove I have a dick.”
If only Rogue hadn’t found the whole exchange...well, fucking hot. There had been something about the way Kip had stood up to him that had Rogue wanting to pick the man up, pin him to the wall and fuck him senseless.
Considering Kip had pretty much been a jerk, Rogue’s response had made no fucking sense. Which was why he was at the tavern having a drink.
Dane let out a whistle as he set both of their drinks down. He noticed Dane had given him quite the generous pour, which he appreciated. Axom’s was... identical.
Alarmed when Axom picked up the glass, not seeming to care what was actually in it, Rogue started to call out to him to stop, but it was too late. In one swallow, Axom downed the whole thing.
Expecting the man to gasp, cough, possibly throw up, Rogue felt his jaw drop when Axom put the glass down. “Not bad,” he told Dane. “But, if I’m honest, I prefer George Dickel to Jack Daniels.”
Dane’s mouth hung open, much like Rogue figured his own was. Axom leaned over the bar and pushed Dane’s jaw up. “You might want to shut that, or you’ll end up catching flies.”
Once more Axom focused on Rogue. “Now, I realize Kip can be a bit...” Axom scrunched up his nose as he thought about what word to use. “Pigheaded,” he ended up saying. “His self-righteous, save the world crap gets old and, frankly, condescending at times. But he only runs the spa, not the resort. And I promise you, Spencer will hand out your brochures.”
That should have made Rogue feel better. Why didn’t it?
He feared it had something to do with a pair of deep blue eyes, high cheekbones, dark thick hair, and a trim body that had Rogue wanting to pick Kip up, have those slim legs wrap around Rogue’s waist, giving him the perfect access to sink into Kip’s tight, yet rounded ass.
His cock twitched. Rogue did the only thing he could think of to erase the image from his mind, he downed the double shot, put the glass back on the bar and motioned to Dane for another.
Axom chuckled as he said, “I see. This has nothing to do with your brochures, does it?”
Rogue refused to confirm or deny anything. What was the point? No way was Kip going anywhere near Rogue. If he were honest, Rogue shouldn’t want anything to do with Kip. Hell, even his friends thought he was obnoxious, that should have been enough for Rogue to steer clear of the man. Yet, instead, he had to admit he was tempted to go back to that spa and see if he could ruffle Kip’s feathers some more.
Rogue had always been a sucker for a man who stood up for his principles, even if they were asinine like Kip’s. Add to that the way Kip had looked Rogue up and down as if he were someone Kip would love to climb, had him nearly getting up off the barstool and heading back to the spa.
He wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse that Axom had stayed while Rogue drank his third double. His fascination that he feared might be turning into an obsession with Kip, had Rogue not paying attention or he might have noticed that Axom continued to wait until Rogue’s body relaxed as he started a second beer.
But again, by that time, Rogue wasn’t sure he would have noticed if Axom started dancing on top of the bar, much less the fact that he asked Rogue the one question he’d hoped to avoid.
“So, what was the business name you put down for your license?” Axom casually asked as he sipped from a beer glass.
When had the man gotten a beer? Unsure, and not really caring, Rogue answered, “Rogue Hunt.”
Axom let out a snort and covered his mouth as if trying not to spew the drink he’d just taken. Then he tilted his head and nodded. “Actually, that’s not bad.” Throwing down cash on the bar, Axom got up. “I’ll have your shirts done in about four days, but I’ll have brochures printed up by Sunday morning so everyone who is staying at the resort will get one.”
Rogue frowned. He had no clue what the hell Axom meant by any of that. Clearly, he needed to go home before he ended up shit faced. But before he could pull his wallet out of his pocket, his brain called up an image of those deep blue eyes reminding him why getting shit faced was his plan all along.
“Dane, another,” he said. Yeah, he was definitely going to hate life tomorrow, but for right now, he was willing to do whatever it took to forget about Kip Larson.
