by Penn Rivers
First question out of my mouth wasn’t exactly planned.
“Someone walk you out, Gemma?”
She frowned at my harsh tone. But I couldn’t care. For five whole seconds, five eternity long seconds… my mind had gone crazy imagining what kind of danger she might be in. And the number of scenarios I could work through in five seconds was impressive.
“No,” she answered limply. “Everyone was busy, so I walked myself out.”
“It’s against the rules,” I snapped, struggling with my composure. If she was mine, I’d yank her from the car, crush her to my chest, and whisper sweet threats into her ear. Like, if you ever put yourself in danger again, I will spank you until you cry. Or, if you ever make my heart die a little like it did in those five seconds, I will… will…
“I’m sorry.”
Her quiet apology was like water to my frustration. Shit. It was almost magical, the way it melted me down from hard edges to soft putty.
Fuck. This woman had me. I’d be a puppet and she’d pull the strings. Good thing she had no idea how done for I was.
“Next time wait for me.” My voice came out strangely soft, and it hurt a little. Deep in my throat and down my chest. An unexplainable ache that made my heart thump harder.
“Okay,” she whispered.
In the dark, with only the dim street lights, I couldn’t see her eyes, but everything felt suddenly intimate and quiet. Like one of those weird moments you see in movies where two people connect on a level that doesn’t make sense with the dialogue being spoken.
I cleared my throat hard.
“Something wrong with your car?”
The question seemed to shift things back to business, and part of me regretted asking it. I would’ve liked to stay in that moment with her a little longer.
Like forever.
She pushed the door open and I stood back to let her out.
“Won’t start,” she said, looking up at me. I could see hints of her darker makeup where it ringed her eyes and her sweet scent was muddled with cloying vanilla body spray and cigarette smoke. “Battery maybe. Hopefully that and not something worse.”
“You have someone to call?” I never asked personal questions, and now I was worried the answer would be yes. What if my girl had someone already? A man at home, waiting for her.
I felt the anger rise in me again, but this time not out of concern. Out of jealousy. My hands started to shake so I fisted them.
Shit. Shit. I was usually better than this. I was steel. I could control myself. Had learned to out of necessity. But when it came to her… I was unraveling.
“I do, but…”
She had someone. Shit.
I clenched my jaw, determined to keep my cool. It wasn’t her fault I felt the way I did. Whatever asshole she belonged to, it wasn’t even his fault. It was just mine.
Her shoulders drooped and she stared at the ground. “I can’t call them. I can’t ask them to come here.”
The shame in her voice melted me all over again. Just like before. What was this power she had over me?
It fucking killed me to see her wilting like this. So consumed with shame she wouldn’t call someone to take her home. It reminded me of another woman in my past. One I tried not to remember too often.
My mother.
“Look…” I had to swallow a couple times to make my voice less rough. I was too fucking emotional for this, but Gemma needed me. Even if for a moment. “Anyone who judges you for what you do here… they don’t deserve you, okay? It takes a lot of balls to walk in that club day in and day out, make yourself vulnerable to strangers, and put up with them when they treat you like you’re low. You should be proud of yourself for being that badass.”
Slowly her head came up, and her entire expression had changed. Surprise. Like she was reevaluating her opinion of me. She hadn’t expected any of that. Maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut.
“I just think you should make that call, is what I’m saying. To hell with what people think.”
Several moments of silence passed while she considered it, but then she shook her head hard. “I can’t let him see me like this. Here. I just… I always keep this part of my life separate. I don’t want him thinking…” Another hard shake of her head. “No. The bus route starts at five-thirty. If I hang out here for an hour I can catch it home. It’s better that way.”
I clenched my jaw hard enough it popped.
So worried about what her man thought. She must care for him very much. I wondered if he cared for her the same way.
Fuck. He damn well better. She needed someone to treat her like an angel. Who’d appreciate when she smiled, or wondered if she was sad when her eyes went dark.
My girl needed that.
But I couldn’t help questioning what kind of judgmental ass she’d chosen.
I looked away toward the club. The team was piling out fast, hopping into cars and zooming away. In minutes, Marco would be locking up.
“It’s too cold out here,” I muttered. To myself, but she heard.
“I’ll be fine. Been in tougher spots before.”
I jerked my gaze back to her, thinking. I doubted she’d just let me take her home. Yeah, being dropped off by me would probably fly with her man like a fucking lead balloon.
But no way in hell was I letting her sit in the cold for an hour.
“No, Gemma. Not leaving you here like this. I have a better idea.”
She shivered, and inside, I cursed her useless jean jacket. If only I wasn’t so warm blooded and actually carried a coat, she could use mine.
And shit…
I caught sight of her smooth bare legs. She was wearing fucking shorts. Short shorts that were some thin material. She might as well be wearing nothing against the frigid wind.
And her legs. I swallowed hard, resisting the urge to run my hands up and down them to warm them up.
To warm me up.
Whatever. My head was fogging.
“There’s an all-night diner a few blocks down. You know it?”
She frowned. “Mal’s?”
“That’s the one. You can be picked up there. Let’s go.”
I turned for the parking lot exit, not waiting around to hear any argument. She would follow. If not… well, maybe I’d just carry her fireman style the three blocks to the restaurant.
Chapter Four
GEMMA
I followed Kane across the almost barren parking lot, thankful I had on flats rather than flip flops. I’d considered them when I saw the nasty blisters I’d gotten from extra stage time in heels. But knowing the early morning temps would be frigid, I’d opted for my slightly warmer converse.
His words rattled through my head again, and I grasped for them, wanting to tuck them away for later. It takes a lot of balls to walk in that club day in and day out, make yourself vulnerable to strangers, and put up with them when they treat you like you’re low. You should be proud of yourself for being that badass.
No one had ever said anything so beautiful to me. It wasn’t a line from Romeo and Juliet or sappy poetry. It wasn’t Nick Sparks romantic. It was gritty and real and so lovely it threatened to choke me.
Kane had no idea how his words touched me. Reached right in and petted a place inside me that had been hurting for so long. The blame game was strong inside me. I’d made choices. Bad ones. Not realizing how they would affect the people I love. Noah. My mother. I’d followed my heart when it was leading me the wrong way. Guilt. Shame. They were the only real constant in my life. And they whipped at my soul with their barbs, making it raw.
Kane’s words soothed. Reminded me I was trying to do better. And that was the most important part of making a mistake. Making amends, learning from it.
I walked faster to catch up while quickly typing out a message to mom to come pick me up at the diner. I sent it, then sent it again, knowing her phone alert wouldn’t go off until the second consecutive message.
She’d have to get Noah out of
bed early, get him dressed and in the car. Damn, it could take an hour for her to get here anyway. I should’ve just waited for the bus.
Cars, though sparse at this time of the morning, honked as they passed, their drivers ogling my bare legs. Definitely wished I’d opted for the sweatpants over the cotton shorts. But I thought I’d be going straight home.
Smart about the shoes, not so much about the attire.
Another driver slowed as he passed. He didn’t honk, but made a jack-off gesture with his free hand and then blew me a smirky kiss through the window.
That familiar sick feeling flooded me. The feeling like I was just an object, a thing to help men get off. To get their dicks hard so they could feel good. Like I was just a slightly better version of their hand.
Not all of the men I encountered made me feel like that, and I encountered a lot of them in a single shift. Some were sweeter than pie, and just lonely and sad. Those were the ones who were intentionally respectful and needed a little encouraging to let loose. The fake flirting was the hardest part of the job, in my opinion, but for the lonely sweethearts, I could do it.
The jerk-off asshole sped away, however the icky feeling remained.
The club was considered elite, but that didn’t mean it was in a good part of the city. It was on the fringes and the area definitely transformed into something shiftier once the sun went down.
I was glad Kane had insisted I not wait for the bus.
I ran to close the distance his long legs were making between us. He walked the same way he did everything. Fiercely, and with intent. Some errant womanly part of me that never showed her face these days, wondered if he made love like that too. Powerfully and intentional. Or maybe, like so many men I’d known, he didn’t make love. Maybe he just fucked.
The idea didn’t feel appealing to me. I saw too much of it. Sex used as a quick fix. Used like a drug.
I didn’t want that ever again.
Kane seemed like more than that. Like he considered every move he made before he made it. Like when he touched a woman, he’d already worked out where every fingertip would land, how every nail would scrape. How his lips would form around hers, the path his tongue would take over her curves.
An ancient ache settled between my legs shocking me to a stop.
Holy hell.
I wasn’t supposed to feel like that. I never felt like that. Not ever. I was all screwed up from the past, and preoccupied with life, and… a stripper for god’s sake. I was surrounded by things that were supposed to induce this feeling and never did.
Kane stopped, turning to frown at me. His dark eyes narrowed in the faint lightening sky, and somehow the look made me feel loose like jelly and warm all over.
“What’s wrong?”
I took a breath to answer, but couldn’t make the words come as he marched back toward me, closing the distance in three strides. My mind ran away, picturing him wrapping me up in his arms as he kissed the hell out of my mouth, furious with lust.
“Gem?” he pushed, his eyes doing that thing they always do, scanning for danger. Except they were doing it to my face.
And there wasn’t any danger. Because the feeling was just a feeling and not something I was ever going to act on.
Which meant it could disappear. Which made me relieved and sad at the very same time.
Confusing.
He was very close. Too close, because I could smell his cologne through the faint scent of cigarette smoke that clung to him from the club. So close I was surprised we weren’t touching. But I checked. We weren’t. Proven by the fact that if we were… I felt like I might spontaneously combust.
How was this happening? Shit.
I managed a shake of my head. “You walk too fast. Hard to keep up on sore feet.”
Kane’s frown deepened, drawing his hair farther down over his forehead and then sprang back to show his surprise. “Oh.” He almost looked… sorry.
I let out the breath I was holding as soon as he stepped back and situated himself between me and the road. Somehow I made my legs work again, and he let me set the pace this time. The normalcy of walking with him instead of chasing him, helped ground me. I pulled in a deep breath of cold air, and it cleared what was left of the lust-fog.
“Better?” Kane murmured.
“Yes.”
We were nearing the restaurant. I could see the red and yellow neon sign that read Mal’s Country Diner. It flickered in a random pattern, and the O and the R in Country were broken so it read Cunty instead. Through the wide front windows, I could see the place was mostly empty, with a few stragglers. But the breakfast crowd would be here soon. Like magic, the whole feel of the place would change from late night rendezvous and clandestine hookups to dignified grandpas having their morning coffee and chatting about golf games or fishing.
And I was in some skimpy cotton shorts, smudged makeup, and soured hairspray.
I glanced at my phone. Hopefully mama would get here fast.
As if she could somehow sense me looking, a message pushed through. Be there soon, Mina. I’ll get Noah ready.
I tapped out a hurried response. Names, mama. Be careful with names.
Damn it, she knew better. Sure, maybe no one was looking at our text messages. But it was a bad habit to have. We needed to be careful. Always vigilant.
Forgive me. I didn’t sleep well.
A sigh rolled from my chest. She worked so hard to help me and Noah. Tried to fix my problems, when they weren’t hers to fix. I’d tried to get her to stay at home when I picked up and moved across country, but she’d have none of it. She wouldn’t, or couldn’t, leave me and Noah to our own devices. No matter what kind of danger might be coming for us.
Danger by the name of Rafe Carlson. Noah’s father, and the head honcho in charge of a major drug operation in south Texas.
It’s okay, mama, I typed out.
“Everything fine?” Kane’s gruff voice jerked my attention back to him and the approaching diner.
“Yeah. My ride’s on the way.”
He grunted a response and reached for the handle of the door. He pulled it wide, holding it open for me to walk through.
Inside, the waitress called out for us to sit wherever we wanted. There were plenty of seats. A few spots at the counter were taken, but everything else was free.
I turned to Kane. “Thanks for making sure I got here safe. It shouldn’t be long now.”
When my eyes found his, he was glaring down at me like I’d offended him. Like I’d spat in his face or asked him to lick my toes.
Quickly, I stuttered out the rest. “I-I’ll see you tomorr—”
“I’ll stay.”
“You don’t need to,” I insisted.
“It’s my job.”
“I’m safe in here. No one will bother me.”
Without a word, he brushed past, stalking to a booth toward the back of the restaurant. It was about as far away from the doors and windows as you could get. A little too cozy even. He stood next to it, one eyebrow cocked at me expectantly.
I could feel eyes on me. Thin crowd or not, we were making a scene. Him waiting at the booth, me still at the door.
Hurrying forward, I slid into the seat before it got even weirder. Kane looked at the space on the bench next to me. I’d scooted almost up against the wall, and hadn’t thought anything of it. But now there was enough space for him to sit next to me. And he seemed to be considering it.
Before he could make a decision, a perky waitress slipped into the bench across from me, flipping her pad to a clean page and letting it rest on the table while she smiled up for our orders.
“Y’all don’t mind if I sit, do ya? I’m on my fifth cup of coffee and working a double.”
I shook my head because I couldn’t find words.
With a weird sigh, Kane eased his big body into the booth beside me. He was close enough I could feel his warmth radiating off him. It made me feel colder, the chill from outside seeming much worse now. It was damn ha
rd not to scoot closer to him just to warm up.
“What can I get for you two night owls? Or is it early birds?”
“The first one,” I said, and her smile never changed. “I’ll have coffee.”
“Same,” Kane murmured.
The waitress nodded, jotting the order on her pad. “Anything else? Or do you need a minute to look at the menu?”
The menu wasn’t necessary. I knew what Mal’s had to offer. Their pancakes were legendary, and I was more than a little starving after the long physical work night. Bonus: if I ordered the long stack, I could save some for Noah when he got here. Mama preferred the grits and they were cheap. Boom. Breakfast done.
I rattled off the order and waited for Kane to make his. But he shook his head when the waitress asked him about food.
Great. Now I’d be stuffing my face with pancakes while he just watched. Fun.
When she scurried off, Kane asked, “Your ride live close by?”
I nodded. “Yep. It shouldn’t be long.”
“Good.”
Now what? I’d never been a pro at small talk. And I didn’t think he was either.
He stared at his hands where his fingers locked together on the worn formica table top. We were too close, inches from touching. My body remembered the reaction I’d had on the street, and wanted more of that feeling no matter that my mind told it to behave.
I drew in a slow breath, trying to get control of my rampant feelings. Somehow, the action hurt my chest. It was messy inside me. But I knew what this was.
Longing.
A warm, strong man was so close, and I craved touch. One that didn’t hurt or disgust. And it had been so long since I’d felt this safe around someone else. This… okay.
I could lay my head on his shoulder. It wouldn’t mean anything. Just to feel another human being. One that wasn’t my mom or my son. God love ‘em both. Or a customer.
“Tired?” Kane’s rumbled question didn’t help sway me back to normalcy. His voice, rich and deep, licked fire at my bones. He had a voice that sounded like pure, hot sex on a sultry night.