The Dirty Dozen: Alpha Edition

by Kay Maree

  The door opened again, and a new face appeared in the frame.

  Ah, him. Bull. The enormous man I’d eyed up.

  It had been on my mind that I’d probably see him around the town. He’d even featured in one or two daydreams I’d had this past week. Ones where I wasn’t running and where I could waylay myself with a little flirting.

  I’d wondered if he was more talkative in bed.

  I’d wondered if he was big all over.

  He took the barstool right in front of me.

  “You again.” A teasing smirk sprang unbidden to my face. “What can I get you?”

  The man’s gaze flicked to where I rested my hands together on the bar. Always looking, this one, though his attention didn’t feel lascivious.

  “Coke,” he said.

  “You mean ‘Coke, please?’” I took a glass from the shelf.

  The man’s dark eyebrows beetled.

  “You know please? One of those little words that make for polite society. Like when you answer if someone asks if you’re injured. Or when you say ‘hi’ if you see a familiar face,” I continued, pouring the drink.

  A battle warred in his expression. A smile fought his lips.

  “You might ask my name, seeing as we keep running into one another. That way, you can use it next time.” I put on a deep voice. “Hello, my name is Bull. I was named after a bulldozer cos I’m so damn big.”

  His face cracked. A laugh burst out of his mouth, and he rocked back, wide-eyed, like mirth was electric and he’d been zapped. Midway through handing over his drink, I jerked in surprise, spilling Coke on my fingers. There was me, thinking I had his number, but the guy had a sense of humour after all.

  “Who knew. You don’t hate me,” I murmured, then broke off the heavy eye contact we had going on. I busied myself washing my hand then wiping up the trickle of spilled Coke.

  “Who knew, ye stuck around,” the man replied.

  I stopped short, my mouth dropping open. That accent… “You’re Scottish,” I uttered.

  “Aye, lass.”

  Lass. My insides clenched with a bolt of sheer lust.

  Denise marched out of the kitchen. “Bull! You’re back. I see you’ve met your newest employee. This is Autumn.”

  Employee?

  I stared at Bull. He regarded me. Then, with a small raise of his glass in salute, he stood from his stool and disappeared behind the bar.

  He was my boss? I bit back my groan, and my fantasy ramped up a level. Flirting with the big guy just got far more interesting.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Do-gooder

  Bull

  She was everywhere. Over the course of the weekend, Autumn took every shift she was offered, and the lass worked hard.

  I liked that. Expected it of those in my employ.

  Her feistiness caught me unawares.

  “Morning, Bull.” Autumn swung out of the kitchen, a tray at her shoulder.

  I gave her a look in response.

  She stopped in front of me in the dimly lit corridor, blocking my way. “What did we agree?”

  I’d agreed nothing. I glared at her; a thousand tasks needing doing.

  She planted her free hand on her hip.

  “Morning, Autumn,” I forced out through gritted teeth.

  She sighed and slipped past me in a cloud of subtle perfume. It was inescapable, that flowery scent, even over the smell of the bacon sandwiches she carried for the breakfast crowd.

  “That wasn’t hard now, was it?” At the corner she stopped and peeked back at me. Then she dropped her gaze to my crotch. “Or maybe it was, and that’s why you’re grumpy all the time? What a pity.”

  Then she was gone.

  My attention remained on the turquoise-painted panelled wall where she’d just stood.

  Flirting. When was the last time anyone had tried that on me? They all thought me a sad case and left me alone. Either that or my bark was enough to dissuade people from bothering me. Yet it didn’t affect Autumn. She didn’t fear me.

  “Bull? There’s a call for you. Sorry.” Denise came out of the office, the phone in her hand.

  She was sorry for the call? That could only mean it was one person. My mood flipped back from momentary bemusement to darkness and irritation.

  “Want me to say you’re busy?” Denise’s expression bled pity.

  She pitied me. Me, a huge, strong man. A business owner with fifteen people on my staff and a thriving bar that I’d turned around from nothing.

  I had it all.

  Apart from one thing.

  I stomped into the office and snatched up the phone with my temper rising high.

  ****

  I sped, making the journey to Cindy’s place in under thirty minutes, my mind replaying the phone call, her crying and desperate voice.

  With a screech of brakes, I parked haphazardly in front of her neat house. “What’s wrong with him?” I demanded, leaping out of my truck.

  Cindy clung to the doorframe, her eyes red and her cheeks wet with tears.

  “He… He’s…” she’d stuttered on the call, making no sense through her upset.

  My heart had hurt the whole way there, thinking that something had happened to her wee lad.

  The woman threw herself into my arms. “He left me. Paul left me.”

  My breath came out hard, and my fear withered. It took me a moment to find my words. “Christ, woman. I thought you meant something happened to the boy.”

  “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t think. Archie’s fine. He’s upstairs napping.” She burst into tears again, hugging me like a limpet.

  Archie’s fine. He’s okay.

  I raised my gaze to the grey winter skies. It hurt like a fucker, coming to this house. Even if I avoided seeing the bairn, the reminders were unavoidable. In the porch, little shoes waited in a line, a pair of blue boots knocked over at the end. Maybe Paul, Archie’s daddy, had kicked them as he’d fled.

  He’d left them. What an arsehole.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered.

  Cindy’s crying subsided, and she shuffled back a step, letting her soft cardigan fall open. “Come in, won’t you? It’s freezing out here.”

  “You shouldn’t have called me. I have to get back.”

  She gave me a look. “Bull! I’m upset here. We were friends once, weren’t we?”

  That wasn’t true. We’d had one drunken night together before…everything else. After, when she’d found me again, it had all been about Archie. There was nothing at all between the woman and me.

  This shite had to stop.

  I folded my arms. “I came because I thought the boy was hurt or sick. I’m not your shoulder to cry on.”

  Her affected countenance shifted to something else. More predatory. She palmed my elbow, let her other hand drop down. “Maybe there’s another reason for you to stay a while.”

  She had to be joking. I blinked, frozen, checking if I was reading her right.

  “You could see him. Have dinner with us. Just like old times.”

  I took a step back, pain blossoming in my chest. “I told you no. Do ye have everything ye need for him? Food? Fuel?”

  Cindy’s expression soured. “Don’t try your do-gooder shit on me. I’m not a charity case.”

  Yeah, there it was. The anger that lay under her polished exterior. The temper that had led her to me, her big mistake, two years ago.

  I left her there, glaring after me. Once, when I was a newcomer to the US, she’d provided a welcome pair of arms. A warm body for a cold, lonely man.

  Never would I go back to that sad place. No matter what it could gain me.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Fraternising

  Autumn

  Almost two weeks into life as small-town residents, things were getting cosy. With Benjamin content, and the fun I was having earning money at the bar, it was easy to agree to stay a while longer.

  Here fel
t a million miles from jails and court cases, from my family’s name being dragged through the mud. From the fear that had me fleeing with barely a plan.

  I knew I needed to check in on that world—there had been a new set of charges pending, both on Dad and Tabby—but if I looked up the case and found that somehow I’d been implicated, I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep at night.

  At least for a few more days, I’d play dumb.

  Besides, it was December eighteenth, and the festive season was in full swing. The customers at Bhaltair’s were in high spirits, and the tips had my emergency fund swelling.

  I still didn’t have a car. The hire place had promised me a replacement vehicle, and they’d taken away the one I’d damaged, but after that, things had stalled.

  My fault, apparently. Originally, when I’d booked with them, I’d paid in cash and given them my Scottish address. Now, I refused to give them Lena’s address or my credit card details to allow them to adjust the payment. They refused to deliver the car to Hank’s as it wasn’t where I was staying.

  We’d hit a stalemate.

  But I had two legs and a ton of nervous energy to burn so, this morning, I put my head down and set off on a wintery walk for my shift at the bar.

  Most other times I’d needed a ride, Lena or her husband had provided it, but today—the coldest since we’d arrived—I was out of luck.

  The long, snow-covered road spread out ahead of me, and an icy wind had me huddling into my jacket. In my bag, I had the second vampire novel, ready for when I took a break and could fit in some cosy reading in front of the fire. That, plus thoughts of Bull and a bowl of his life-giving stew, kept me going.

  I was half frozen by the time an engine roared behind me.

  The car slowed, and I peeked up to see Bull’s truck skid to a halt.

  He wound down the window and looked me over. Then he opened his mouth. “Hello, Autumn.”

  I pressed my lips together. “Hello, Bull. Driving too fast again, I see.”

  He huffed. “Get in.”

  “What if I like the walk?”

  “In.” He cracked open the passenger-side door.

  I rounded the vehicle and climbed inside. Warmth enveloped me, and I shivered violently.

  “Where’s your car?” Bull checked over his shoulder and shot off.

  “I hit it with a rock wall, remember? The company refused to replace it.” There were other companies I’d try when it came time to move on. I hadn’t taken up Hank’s offer as it seemed too personal a favour to ask.

  “How have you been getting to and from work?”

  “Lifts. Or walking.”

  Under his thick black beard, his jaw locked. “Weather’s coming in. Ye cannae walk home in it tonight.”

  I shrugged. “Where in Scotland are you from?”

  He shot me a glare. “Didnae ye hear me?”

  “Yep, I just chose to ignore you. It’s none of your business how I travel.”

  “You work for me.”

  “Yes, in your bar. There, you can boss me around all you like. Out here? Not a chance.”

  There was something so enjoyable about baiting him. Our little encounters were the highlight of my day. He was almost a complete stranger, but we’d fallen into a pattern that was so familiar.

  I flirted with him. He gave me long, serious looks that hit me square in the hormones.

  The guy had no idea how attractive he was.

  Or how the chemistry between us kept me awake at night while the rest of the house slept soundly. When Benjamin lay spread-eagled in his cot in the kids’ room, and I stared at the pale walls and let my mind drift to a hard, huge male body.

  I didn’t know what Bull made of me, but I wanted to find out.

  Bull shifted in his seat. “What book is that?”

  “What?”

  He indicated with his head to my bag. I’d opened it to shove my damp gloves inside. The vampire story poked out.

  “Do you know who Stephanie Meyer is?”

  “Aye, just about.” He snorted. “Your vampire comment on the day we met makes more sense now.”

  A laugh escaped me. “You remember that?”

  The side of his mouth curved. “Aye. Of course.”

  “Is that because I’m so unforgettable?” I batted my lashes, wet where the ice on them was defrosting.

  He huffed then went quiet for a moment. “There are tours that go to the sites named in the book. They stop off at the bar sometimes.”

  “I really need to go on one of those before I leave.” I switched my gaze to the thick forest.

  Silence held in the car. Then, “When do ye go?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Where are ye going?”

  “I’m not sure of that yet either.” I realised my mistake as soon as I spoke. I sounded like a woman without a plan, which wasn’t exactly true. I’d run and run if I got a sniff that we’d been found. No comfortable home or mild flirtation with my boss could lure me away from securing Benjamin’s safety.

  I’d run until our money ran out, and then I’d crawl.

  Bull kept his gaze on the road ahead, but his muscles tightened. We pulled into the town without further conversation.

  But as I unclipped my seatbelt, he put out a hand to pause my actions. He didn’t touch me, but the slight invasion of my personal space gave me butterflies.

  “We look out for our own around here. The town’s a good place to live and a better place to raise bairns.” He retracted his hand and jabbed it into his overlong hair, like he had more to say but didn’t know where to start.

  I wanted to ask about his son—I hadn’t dared ask the staff at the bar. It seemed so personal, and they were all fiercely loyal to him.

  I also wanted him to turn his dark gaze on me.

  When I teased him, when he gave me that stare, it weakened my knees. There was a depth to him I couldn’t start to understand, and that I had no business trying to undercover. He’d taken me on with no background checks, his bar manager paid me in cash, though I was pretty sure they both knew I was illegal, and he asked no questions.

  I didn’t think I was special—there were one or two other people on his staff who I suspected he helped in the same fashion. But it was a kindness I couldn’t ignore.

  “You’re a good man,” I said by way of answer.

  Then I stopped short. Because he did it. He gave me the look. A searing, branding stare fluttering over my features before dropping to my mouth.

  But now, I wasn’t teasing, and he wasn’t disapproving. Instead, it was just the two of us in a confined space.

  I watched his lips.

  Breathed in the scent of fresh, snowy forest and strong, solid man.

  My brain woke with a jolt. What the hell was I thinking?

  “I have to start my shift,” I mumbled, dragging my gaze off him. I had a feeling if I didn’t, I’d do something stupid like lean in and kiss the guy who paid my wages and allowed me to continue hiding.

  He didn’t reply, and I didn’t dare glance back.

  ****

  That afternoon, during my break, Denise came over, a curious tilt to her blonde head. “Got a minute? There’s a couple of things I need to discuss with you.”

  Georges, a chef who had been super friendly, asking questions about what I was reading, jumped up from my table. He gave me a cheeky wink then made his way to the kitchens.

  Denise took his seat. “We’ve got a whole bunch of Christmas parties booked for the next week. You said to give you all the hours possible, but I wanted to check these worked.”

  She handed me a clipboard. I scanned the times. Lena was home all day with her daughter and had told me to do what I needed to do. Guilt squeezed my chest for the time I’d be away from Benjamin, but he loved the family and didn’t seem to be suffering.

  “All good,” I replied, returning the schedule.

  “Great! Next
, I’ve got a contract for you to sign.”

  I blinked at the bar manager. “I didn’t know you had contracts for casual workers.”

  “We don’t, usually.” She pushed up from the table then placed the form down in front of me and added a pen alongside it. “Just read this through and sign on the bottom line, honey.”

  I took a sip of my coffee—the café side of the bar made the most incredible lattes—and scanned the lines. “Did you sign one?”

  “Sure did. Two years ago. There have been a couple of points added since then, though.” She gave me another wondering look then left me to read.

  I’d never signed a contract for anything before, and they had to know I was using a fake surname, but as I got to the bottom of the page, a laugh spluttered out of my lips.

  Point twelve: No fraternising between staff members.

  Denise had said the contracts had just been updated. What were the chances that point applied to me alone? I rested my head back on my chair and gazed down the bar. It had to be, which meant only one thing.

  Bull wanted me like I wanted him.

  Question was, what was his reason for stopping?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Tension

  Bull

  The office door shook under someone’s thumping fist. Autumn swung it open before I had a chance to speak.

  “What’s this?” She marched over, brandished the contract I’d asked Denise to have all the staff sign.

  I stood from my chair, towering over the lass.

  “I told you I wasn’t staying,” she snipped, leaning back to peer at me better. “What’s the point in giving this to me now?”

  “Just sign it. What difference does it make?”

  “Point twelve makes a difference.”

  Shite. The fraternisation policy I’d made up when I’d realised I wanted to kiss her.

  “You have a problem with keeping professional on my premises?” I barked, annoyed that she’d called me on it.

  “I do. What if I want to fraternise with someone?”

  “Who?” What the hell was I saying?

  Autumn paused, her pretty mouth open. Then she folded her arms, pushing up her ample chest. “Georges asked me out for a drink.”