He nods. “Solid plan. I like to cook too.”
I’m surprised. And pleased we have something in common.
“We’re here,” he says before I can reply.
He stops in front of a typical city diner, holds open the door, and I step inside. The place is small, booths along one side, each with seating for two total, tables for four along the middle, and more single booths. Behind the counter, delicious-looking pastries tempt me.
He chooses one of the booths in the back, and we settle in. He sits across from me, but the booth is small, and our knees touch beneath the table. I shiver unexpectedly.
Before we can begin talking again, a waitress approaches. “Coffee?” she asks in a cigarette-roughened voice.
“Yes, please.” I wake up craving caffeine.
“Me too.”
She pours into the waiting cups and disappears.
“So why a chef?” He takes a sip of his coffee. I notice he drinks it black.
I add milk and one sugar to mine. “Well … if I wanted to eat, I needed to learn to cook. My parents were always out at the country club or at business dinners. Mom didn’t worry much about me. There was always cereal in the cabinets but…” I shake my head. Whenever I speak of my childhood, I have to do it over a painful lump in my throat.
He stares at me through hooded eyes. I don’t want him to feel sorry for me. Poor little rich girl. I push on. “Anyway, I watched cooking shows. And I learned.” I draw a deep breath. “I’m good at it, and I love cooking. Especially delicious breakfast foods. You?” I don’t want to talk about me. I’d rather learn about him.
“I want to eat, so I learned to cook. Like you, I enjoy it.”
I grin. “That’s cool,” I say. “So what do you do for a living?”
“I dabble.”
I sip my coffee, unsatisfied with his answer. “What does that mean exactly?”
“I’m in business … and I have my PI license, and I’m good at digging up information.” A shrug. “People hire me for this and that.”
“And you make a living that way?” I cringe. I was raised better than to blurt out what’s on my mind.
Instead of being annoyed, he bursts out laughing. “Yes, Princess, I do. You’d be amazed the things people will pay to find out.”
“Huh.” I lift my coffee and take another nice long sip of caffeine. Then another.
Closing my eyes, I lean back and enjoy the burnt brew because I know, no matter how lousy the taste, the lovely caffeine will soon begin to flow through my veins. I moan softly at the thought.
“Don’t do that.”
“What?” I ask as my eyelids snap open.
“Make sex noises in public. You do and you’ll find yourself against the nearest bathroom wall.” He’s staring at me, those green eyes darkened with need.
Oh. My. God. He wants me.
My mouth runs dry. I mean, he’s been keeping an eye on me at night, he saved me, saw me home safely, and showed up again this morning. Any normal girl would have caught on quickly. I’m not normal. Never have been.
And there’s that naiveté showing itself again. It’s not that I thought he was just being friendly, and I knew there was attraction between us, but this. It’s a burning heat the likes of which I’ve never experienced.
The boys I’ve been with were just that. Boys. He’s all man, from the darkened stubble on his handsome face to the muscles bulging in his forearms. This morning I catch sight of a tattoo I didn’t notice in the dark last night.
I open my mouth, and to my mortification, a small squeak escapes instead of a coherent word.
He grins, but those heated eyes remain on mine. “I shocked you.”
I manage a nod. “In a good way.” A burning flush rises to my cheeks. I can’t say anything right around him.
“You’re nothing like I thought you’d be,” he mutters, and he doesn’t sound happy about the thought.
I squirm in my seat. “When you were watching me at the bar, you mean?”
“Something like that. You’re sweetness and light. And you remind me of someone,” he says, his voice suddenly sad.
I know immediately he’s not talking about an ex-girlfriend. No, he’s thinking of someone close to him, someone he lost. Instinct has me reaching for him, and I place my hand over his.
I sit quietly and wonder if he’ll say more.
“She was honest and trusting like you.”
“She was special to you,” I say.
He inclines his head. “My sister.”
A painful lump rises to my throat. I don’t know what happened to her, and I’m afraid to ask. Whatever it is, it’s affected him deeply.
“She trusted some bastard and he hurt her. Badly. She’s never recovered.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” He pulls his hand away and waves for the waitress.
Discussion over. I respect the boundaries he’s set and take a quick look at the menu.
“What can I get you?” the older woman asks. She looks at me first.
“Egg-white omelet with spinach and American cheese.”
His lips lift in a grin. “Figures. I’ll have the AM Special.” He hands her his menu along with mine.
“Bacon with that?”
“Yep.”
“Home fries?”
He nods.
She pockets her pad and walks away.
I look at him and shake my head and laugh. “What comes with the morning special?”
“Scrambled eggs and a double stack of pancakes.”
And bacon and home fries. I can’t help it. I grin.
“What? I’m a growing boy.”
“You’re no boy,” I say, and my eyes immediately widen. I’ve done it again. Open mouth and pop out the thing on my mind.
“No?” He folds his arms on the table and leans across from me. “What am I?”
A hot-blooded man. That I manage to keep inside. “I—”
Before I can reply, the trilling of my cell saves me. I pull it from my small purse and answer immediately. “Sean! I didn’t expect to hear back from you so soon.”
“I sent my guy to deal with your car. Looks like someone beat me to it. You’ve got two new tires.” He sounds harassed, and I feel bad he’s dealing with my shit for no reason.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know who would…” My gaze falls on Zach. He’s staring and he’s not happy.
I have no idea why his mood suddenly changed, but something tells me exactly who took care of my car.
“I’m really sorry you sent someone for no reason,” I tell Sean. “I think I know who handled things. I just didn’t know he’d do it.”
“He?” Sean immediately latches on to the one word in the sentence that matters. “A friend of yours?” he asks, his tone dark. Concerned.
“Yes.” I don’t mention Zach’s a new friend or that his intentions are so much more than that.
“Be careful, Chloe. Men don’t do surprise favors like that for women if they don’t want something in return.”
I lose all the moisture in my mouth. Staring at my hot guy across the table, listening to my old friend’s warning, I wonder if I’m letting my too-trusting nature lead me down a stupid path. Again.
“You hear me?” Sean asks.
“I do. And I appreciate the heads up. Thanks again, and I’m sorry for the hassle.”
He says something that sounds muffled to my ears, and a female voice speaks up in the background. “Is that Avery?” I ask.
“Yes. She also says watch out.”
“That’s not what I said!” she calls out. “I said it’s sweet that a guy would help you that way. Sean always thinks the worst.” She’s obviously grabbed the phone. “Be careful but enjoy life.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Sean mutters. “You think before you act. Call if you need to.” And then he disconnects the call.
I laugh at their byplay, place the phone on the table, and glance at my companion.
“Frie
nd of yours?” he asks, his voice a deep pitch I’ve never heard from him before. He almost sounds … angry.
I sit back in my seat, Sean’s alert sounding in my brain. “Old friend. Neighbor, actually.” I’m not giving him any information. Sean’s a private man, and I don’t know Zach or what he wants from me.
“Guy friend.” Zach pins me with an eerie glare.
“Old. Friend.” I’m not playing this weird game.
In a flash of insight — yes, I occasionally have them — I realize Sean’s right. I need to be careful. I barely know this mercurial man who inserted himself in my life, and his new mood scares me.
I wonder if there’s a way to extricate myself from this awkward situation when the waitress arrives and places our plates in front of us. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks.
So much for escaping before the food arrives. “No thank you.”
Ignoring Zach, I pick up my fork and dig into my breakfast. We eat in silence and I don’t look up.
“Sorry,” he mutters.
The one word takes me off guard. “What?”
“I realized you were on the phone with another guy and I acted like an ass.”
“Oh.” He was jealous?
My shoulders slump in relief. Stupid me, but his apology goes a long way toward repairing the damage. “Sean’s my neighbor. We go way back. I used to have a crush on him when I was a younger,” I admit with a lot of embarrassment, “but he was too old for me then and only ever thought of me like a sister. Now he’s like a brother to me. And I called him because I knew he’d help me without telling my parents anything.” At the thought of my parents finding out about me being attacked or having my tires slashed, I stab at my eggs.
“They’re already dead, Princess,” Zach says, his mood suddenly lighter.
“Yeah.” I laugh. “Can I ask you something?”
“As long as you’re still talking to me, you can do anything you want.” His heated eyes are back, but he visibly braces for my question.
I have two, actually. “Well, first, did you fix my tires?”
“Of course.” He says like it was an expected occurrence.
Which brings me to my second question. “Why?”
“Because they needed repair if you were going to be able to drive it again.”
“No, why bother? With the tires, with me? Why the sudden interest?” I ask the question again.
“You really don’t know?” Zach asks, bringing me back to my original question. Why is he so interested in me?
I shake my head.
“From the minute I saw you, you affected me. In here.” He points to his chest. “Inside. You’re fucking gorgeous, for one thing, you have a smile for everyone no matter how tired you are when you work, and I wanted to get to know you better.”
“But you stayed away.”
“Because you deserve better than me,” he says, his tone deadly serious. “I’m not a nice guy.”
“You could have fooled me.”
“You bring out the best in me.” He grins, but I sense a glimmer of truth in his words.
Zach Anders is not what he seems. On the outside, he’s a big, hulking hot guy. When he wants to be nice and take care of me, he’s shown me in less than twenty-four hours, he can. And will. But I saw the dark side of him unleashed last night. There were other ways to have handled my attacker, but once Zach had gotten started, a switch had flipped, and there’d been no turning it off.
I glance at his hand for the first time. His knuckles are red, bruised, and raw. A reminder of the darkness I’d been pretending didn’t exist.
I glance at him and see he’s waiting for a reply. I don’t have one ready. “What do I owe you for the tires?” I ask instead.
Because if I know one thing, it’s that my car’s tires are expensive. I can’t cover them with what I earn in a week at The Tavern. Which means I’m back to asking Sean for a favor — this time, money. Clearly, keeping the car wasn’t such a bright idea. If I wanted independence, I was going to have to get rid of the luxuries my parents still provided.
“You don’t owe me a thing. I wanted to help and I did.”
I run my tongue along my lips. A mistake, I realize immediately, as Zach’s gaze zeroes in on the action.
“I’ll pay you back,” I say.
His eyes narrow. “You can try.”
I’m not in the mood for an argument. These last few minutes, added to last night’s events, drained me. I wipe my mouth with the napkin. “I think I’ll take that ride to my car.” I want to go home and catch a nap in my own bed, assuming the roommate from hell isn’t around. Then I’ll head to the library.
“Sure thing.” He signals for a check.
I try to pay, and he shuts me down flat. “What kind of guy lets a woman he invites to breakfast pay her own way?”
“Thank you.” Even as I speak, I wonder. Is he being nice because he genuinely likes me and wants to get to know me better? Or does he want something more? Clearly, he wants me. He wants sex. And when I look at him, so do I. He’s hot, he’s been great to me, and he’s hot. Yes, it’s worth mentioning twice.
But to men, sex is easy. To women, at least to me anyway, sex comes with a price tag. It affects my emotions. I have to have feelings for someone I sleep with, and asshole ex was my first. Clearly, he betrayed me in ways I still haven’t come to terms with. Because I’m looking at Zach and wondering if he, too, has an ulterior motive.
It doesn’t help that Sean’s words ring in my ears. Men don’t do surprise favors like that for women if they don’t want something in return. And as decent as he is to me, Sean Ferro isn’t always a nice guy to the outside world. He knows what he’s talking about.
Zach Anders is still an unknown. If he wants me, he’s going to have to work to get me. I won’t let a man fool me again.
Chapter Three
Zach
I’m a first-class bastard, and she’s too sweet, too nice to get involved with an SOB like me. To my credit, I almost changed my mind. More than once.
First I watched him. And I waited. I knew my time would come, and it did. The day he walked Chloe out to her shiny BMW and gave her a long hug before seeing her safely into her car, I knew I’d hit pay dirt.
Didn’t take me long to run her plates and discover her parents live next door to his mother. She obviously knew him for years. Some more digging and I know she’s got as messed up a family as he does. Nobody really has her back. That would work to my advantage. Then I discover the sex tape. Fucking perfect. She has a weakness I can exploit.
I know she won’t want another rich guy in her life, and luckily, despite my wealth, I don’t show it. So she has no idea I can compete with the likes of Sean Ferro any day.
I knew I’d have to seduce whoever my target would be, resigned myself to it, but I didn’t expect her. Didn’t expect to be so attracted to her I wanted her more with every breath. Long blonde hair and large blue eyes that take in everything all at once. Cute, upturned nose and a curvy, sexy body combined with an innocent lack of awareness of her effect on men. She’s the whole package.
Attraction I can handle. It’s a bonus considering what I want from her. But I didn’t anticipate liking her so damned much too. There’s no guile inside her. Not a deceitful bone in that sexy body. I’ve learned to read people, and she’s special. It took me too long to find an opening to approach her because I didn’t want to find one. And when I did, my first instinct was protection, not payback.
Then she bent over my hand and blew her soft breath across my knuckles.
The almost kiss. Her breath warm and sweet against my mouth.
When I mentioned my sister — a stupid, stupid move — she was all compassion.
In a way, she reminds me of Grace. The girl she used to be before that bastard used, abused, and smashed not just her spirit but her mind, body, and soul. I don’t care if my sister, Grace, had turned down a wrong road, he still broke her.
I clench my fists and i
mmediately release. I can’t afford anger now. I’m in the parking lot of South Oaks, the mental institution, and I need to walk into the hospital with a clear head and only positive vibes.
As it is, I never know what I’ll find when I go inside. A vacant, empty shell staring into space or a hysterical, wild woman who needs to be sedated. I press hard against my temples and the growing headache. I caused the hysteria the first time Grace broke her silence. We were walking in the garden. She tripped and fell. I leaned over her to help her get up, and she lost it. Shrieking, screaming. Fucking screaming at the top of her lungs.
Get off me. No. No. No. Her hands over her head as she curled into a tight ball. The memory made me gag. So did her long, rambling recounting of what he did to her. Those had been the first words she’d spoken in years. Nothing since. And they were enough to drive me to make things right.
Somehow, he will pay. I will make him suffer the same pain I’m in every time I think about my beautiful sister. I know I need to break someone he cares about, but those people are too few and far between. His fiancée is protected. I can’t get near her. There’s only Chloe, who doesn’t deserve what I have planned.
A nice guy would stay away.
I can’t.
But Chloe’s strong. She handled me pounding that bastard into the ground without too much female hysteria. Which makes me believe somehow she will bounce back from what I have to do.
Chapter Four
The next night at work, Tank gathers the waitresses together for a talk. “We had an incident in the parking lot.”
I tense. Tank knows about my car since it stayed in the lot overnight. I play it off. He asks if I saw anything or anyone and I deny it, telling him that by the time I walked outside, my tires were slashed. It’s the truth as far as it goes.
“Just want you girls to be careful. If you need me to walk you out, say so,” he says in his gruff voice.
He doesn’t mention the guy we left in the parking lot, and neither do I. I’m sick about it but let it go.
The Arrangement: The Seduction (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 3