About to do the same, she froze when she saw blood seeping out from his hand that gripped his side. Then he passed her by and disappeared into a back room.
Damn.
Stay out of this, Shannon.
Every rational part of her brain told her to keep walking out the front door. But the paramedic-trained side of her, and her stupid conscience, made her turn and follow him.
Chapter Two
Russ kicked the door to the back room closed and cursed a blue streak under his breath. In one quick move, he gripped the bottom of his shirt and jerked it up and over his head.
He glanced down at the wound that was seeping blood. How the hell had he not seen the knife in that asshole’s hand?
“You should really call the police.”
Stilling, he lifted his gaze to the woman now standing in the doorway. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised to see she’d followed him back here.
“No cops.”
“Why?” She stepped inside the room fully and closed the door behind her. “You have some kind of illegal activity going on that you don’t want them to know about?”
“I run a clean business.”
Surprise flickered in her eyes before she gave a small nod. “So The Blue Lounge is your club?”
He didn’t answer, but turned his attention back to his injury and went to grab a handful of paper towels from above the sink. He wadded them up and pressed them against the cut, wincing slightly.
“He got you pretty good there.”
While her words might’ve been referring to the stab wound, when he looked over at her again he found her staring at his naked chest. And she didn’t try to hide the blatant appreciation in her dark brown eyes.
The same hot need he’d felt earlier eased through his already pounding blood, and he drew in a slow breath that made his chest expand.
He took a moment to do a little visual exploring of his own, even though he’d been doing plenty of that from behind the bar earlier. Now, with her just few away, it was an up-close and personal inspection.
She stood out from the other women in the club. Where so many of them were all about the tiny dresses, crop tops and shorts—baring as much flesh as possible—she didn’t seem eager to flash her flawless brown skin. Not that she was conservative, either.
The purple sleeveless V-neck she wore wasn’t tight, but it fit in a way that couldn’t hide her decent-sized chest. Her arms were toned, and with surprising definition in her biceps. He moved his gaze lower. To the jeans that hugged every inch of her lower body before disappearing into boots. Leather boots, but not the sexy kind that climbed and clung to a woman’s leg. These were short, just above the ankle, and shiny black. Militant-looking almost. Sort of like what had been in fashion back in the grunge era.
Her black hair was sleek and shiny, falling just below her shoulders. He shifted his gaze back up to hers but found she was still checking him out.
“Like what you see?”
Her attention shifted upward and her lips quirked. “I’ve seen much worse stab wounds.”
“That’s not what you were looking at.”
She held his gaze and took a moment before answering. Then, “You’re right. But it’s what I should’ve been. Let me see.”
He narrowed his eyes as she approached, tempted to snarl at her to get the hell out, but equally as eager to have her within touching distance.
She paused in front of him and leaned down a little, wrapping her slender fingers around his wrist and pulling it away from the wound. The towels stuck slightly to the blood before tugging free.
She eyed the slice, only lightly seeping now, as if she knew what she was doing. Maybe she did.
“Do you have a first aid kit?”
“Would you know how to use one if I did?”
Her lips curved into a smile, but her eyes showed she wasn’t amused. “I’m a firefighter and also a trained paramedic. So yes. I’m pretty sure I can make sure your little cut here doesn’t get infected.”
That ‘little cut’ stung like a bitch. But he wasn’t about to admit it, or show any surprise at the career she held. Certainly explained those toned biceps.
He jerked his head toward the desk. “Second drawer down. Should be one.”
She moved away to grab the kit, presenting him with a nice view of her ass. Holy fucking shit. That ass. Amazing. No other way to put it. How had he not noticed that perfect round backside? Not tonight, and never back in high school.
Then again, Shannon Washington’s body looked very little like it did back when she’d been a freshman in high school. He’d recognized her face, though, the moment she’d walked into his club tonight. Clearly she hadn’t figured out who he was.
She removed the wad of paper towels again and tossed them into the garbage before moving to crouch in front of him.
He sucked in a breath at the sight she presented. He knew it was because she wanted closer access to the knife wound, but his mind was going to all kinds of dirty places having her positioned like that. Where if she just moved slightly to the left, her mouth would be—
“If you even make a dirty remark right now, I swear I’ll rip this wound to double its size.”
He laughed before could stop himself, and then winced as the cut smarted.
“And, yes, you’re that readable,” she grumbled as she dug through the kit for several items.
“Natural reaction, I suppose. Having a woman on her knees in front of me.”
Whatever she swabbed over and around his wound, she did it with a little more vigor than she probably needed to, and he grimaced as it burned.
“As you can see, I’m not on my knees.” She straightened up, tossed the square cloth into the garbage and then proceeded to put smaller butterfly bandages on the cut to close it.
Her pink lips were pursed in concentration. Her brows furrowed.
“Why’d you follow me back here?”
She stiffened and then gave a slight shrug. “I realized you were hurt. Kind of built into me to follow up on that, whether I’m working or not.”
“I see.”
She finished bandaging him up and stood, but this time seemed in no hurry to meet his gaze. Instead she moved to the sink to wash her hands.
“You have no idea who I am, do you, Shannon?”
Chapter Three
Heat that had nothing to do with the hot water on her hands slid through Shannon’s body. She didn’t turn off the water yet, or turn around to look at him. Couldn’t even bring herself to reply, because how the hell could she?
How did he know her name? Did they know each other?
While her mind was still spinning, the door opened behind them. Shannon did glance over her shoulder now, just in time to see a pretty blonde step into the room.
“You okay, Russ? I hear you were hurt.”
“I’ll be fine.” His reply was terse. “Stay up front and make sure Delmar doesn’t let any of those assholes back in.”
“Will do.”
The door closed a moment later and Shannon finally turned around. “Those assholes are my coworkers.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. They’re amazing guys. Whatever happened tonight, the other one started it.”
“Doesn’t matter. They all get tossed.”
Who was the asshole here? She pursed her lips and studied his face, trying to find something about him she recognized.
“How do we know each other?” But there was something faint, teasing at the back of her memory.
“Straight, No Chaser.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are we talking drinking, or Thelonious Monk?”
“Monk.” He paused. “There was also Ellington. Basie. Miller.”
All jazz musicians. Songs her high school jazz band had covered when she’d been in it. That was over a decade ago.
“West View Jazz Band.”
He gave a slight smile and then played a silent riff with invisible drumsticks.
“Oh my god.” She instantly compared him to the teen he’d been a decade ago.
While his hair was now short and spikey, back then it had been long and black, often in a ponytail. He hadn’t been skinny then, but his body was nowhere near as muscled as it was now. His shoulders much broader.
“You were the drummer during my freshman year.”
“Bingo.”
“You were a senior, and I think I was actually kind of afraid of you.”
He lifted a brow. “Were you now?”
“Yeah. You always seemed kind of angry. Had this ‘do not approach the dog or he may bite’ vibe about you.”
His gaze narrowed. “I was never mean to you.”
“No,” she agreed softly. A memory flitted through her mind. “You weren’t. You defended me once actually. When some of the guys were getting on my ass about being late to practice.”
“Did I?”
She knew he remembered, even if he kept his expression unreadable.
“Yeah. You did. You ripped them a new one.” She gave a small smile, remembering how sudden and how fierce his defensive attack for her had been. “I think it scared me as much as them.”
He finally laughed. “I was kind of a grumpy bastard back then.”
“Maybe, but you’re love for music was clear.”
“Still is.”
“Which is why you have this place?” She gestured to the door, where out on the stage the band played, people dancing and drinking.
“It’s been my dream for a while now. Two years ago it became a reality when we opened the doors.” He approached her. “Hey, do you have time to grab some food?”
Her heart quickened and she couldn’t hide her surprise. “You mean outside of what your club serves?”
“I’m heading out early tonight. Getting stabbed kind of killed the evening for me. Thought I’d grab something to eat on the way home.” He reached out and touched a strand of her hair. Sliding it between two fingers. “Or maybe just make something at my place. You should come with.”
It became blatantly clear what he was asking now. Suggesting.
She ran another glance over him. In high school he’d had that bad-boy, dark and moody musician vibe that some of the girls had flocked to.
Clearly he’d changed physically, but there was still something mysterious about him. Not to mention he was incredibly sexy now. Women at the club were probably all over him, all the time. Bringing a girl home at the end of the night was probably as routine as wiping down the bar counter.
Which meant she should probably run.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m just going to head out. Make sure you take care of that cut.” She turned to leave.
“Still a good girl, aren’t you, Shannon?”
Her jaw clenched and she stopped walking. “I don’t sleep around, if that’s what you’re passive-aggressively asking.”
“And you’re assuming I do?”
Right. Unable to help herself, she turned to glance over her shoulder. “Yeah. I’m assuming you do.”
“I’m pretty particular on who I bring into my bed.”
His unblinking stare and almost bored demeanor sent another sliver of interest through her. Why? Why was she always attracted to the broody, sexy, quiet type of guys? Why the hell couldn’t she love the comedian type?
Nothing but trouble, that’s all these ones ever were. And yet...
“Just food. And we go to an actual restaurant,” she said firmly. “I’m not going back to your place.”
Not tonight anyway.
She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit she was at least considering it. She was single and in her late twenties. It’d been awhile since she’d been attracted to a man. Even longer since she’d acted on that attraction. Now here was a blast from her past, looking like the perfect opportunity to get back into the game. Going to grab food together was a decent start. It was harmless. They could just see how it went. Where it went.
Russ nodded and turned away to grab his shirt. “You need to let anyone know?”
“The guys I came with took off after the fight.”
“Nice of them to leave you.”
“I left them to come help your injured ass, if you recall. And really, you kicked them out.” She grabbed her purse where she’d set it down on a nearby table. “I’ll text my roommate your details just in case you try and off me or something.”
His laughter coincided with the jangling of keys he pulled from his pocket. “Smart. And I promise not to off you. That is, unless we’re talking about the sexual kind?”
The suggestive look he gave her had heat stirring low in her belly. Swallowing the combo of uncertainty and amusement, she shook her head.
“Am I going to regret saying yes to dinner?”
He took a few steps, closing the distance between them, and reached out to touch the side of her face.
“Anytime you say yes to me, sweetheart, I promise there’ll be no regrets.”
And then he moved past her out of the room. With her stomach doing flips and her heart beating double time, she followed him out of the office.
Chapter Four
It was nearly eleven at night, but the restaurant lounge was still full of people of all sorts. Though, after a quick look around, Russ recognized the usual hipster type took dominance.
He swung his gaze back to Shannon and found her still studying the menu.
“So why did you say yes? Are you hungry? Or just humoring me?”
She didn’t glance up. “Well, I didn’t eat much for dinner. And you’ve definitely intrigued me enough to come along. So both.”
“Are you seeing anyone, Shannon?”
He noted the way her fingers tightened, ever so slightly, around the menu. Still, she didn’t look up.
“Not at the moment. Are you?”
“No.” It had been months since he’d last had a woman in his life on a consistent basis. “Have you ever been married?”
While he’d been expecting a quick denial, she took a moment in answering, which piqued his curiosity.
“Yes, I have been. I was married at nineteen and divorced by twenty-one.” She paused and looked up at him. “And no, he didn’t knock me up or anything. Just too young to know better.”
“Did he go to our school?”
“Yeah. You probably didn’t know him. He was only a year older than me. Not in band, though, he was more of an athlete. Football.”
She rattled off a name that meant nothing to him.
“Ah.” He gave a lopsided smile. “No clue who he was, but can’t say I was hanging with the jocks all that much.”
“What about you? Ever been married?”
“No. And who knows if I ever will be.”
Something flickered in her pretty chocolate eyes, but he didn’t feel as if she were judging him necessarily.
“Not the commitment type then?”
“I can be. Not necessarily seeking it out.”
She gave a small nod and then glanced back at her menu. “What are you getting to eat?”
“Pulled pork sandwich.”
Her lips twitched. “I was looking at that too.”
“Clearly you’ve got good taste.”
“Clearly.” Her soft laugh was entirely too sexy.
The waitress arrived and took their order. Shannon went first, ordering the sandwich without the coleslaw and subbing for the salad instead of fries.
A frisson of surprise slid through him as he gave his order. Their meals were nearly identical, down to the oil and vinegar salad dressing for the salad. Though he wasn’t about to skip the slaw on the sandwich. Some things you couldn’t compromise on.
“Look at you following my lead,” she teased when the waitress had left again.
Usually it was the other way around, or at least in certain areas of his life. Like the bedroom.
He ignored her comment. “You always skip the fries?”
“Most of the time. I try and eat healthy, but now
and then just want to sink my teeth into a big fat burger. I figure getting the burger and skipping the fries is a way to indulge and cut a few calories.”
“Absolutely. So a firefighter, huh?”
“Yup.”
“Why?”
“Because my dad was a firefighter and it was in my blood. I’m athletic. Thrive on adrenaline.”
None of that surprised him. Not that he’d ever met her dad, but he could well believe that Shannon was an adrenaline junkie.
“Do you feel like you have to prove that you’re just as good as any of the guys?”
She met his gaze head on. “I am just as good.”
“I believe it.”
She stirred a packet of artificial sweetener into her iced tea. “I’m a little obsessive about it at times. But it’s not easy being the minority in the workplace.”
“Race and sex?”
“Both. There are a couple black guys. One other female who’s actually on maternity leave, so she’s not even there right now.” She took a sip of her drink. “But sometimes I feel like there’s a little more pressure on me. Having a vagina and all.”
He liked her humor. “Maybe you put that pressure on yourself.”
Firefighting seemed to be a more male-dominated field. He could easily imagine how hard it had been to compete for the same positions against men. That she’d have a need to prove herself constantly.
“Sorry. That was a little deep. Not sure why I dumped that on you.” She grimaced and shook her head.
“Don’t apologize. I led you into the conversation.”
It wasn’t unusual for people to open up to him. He knew there was something about himself that invited people to talk. Maybe because he was so guarded with his own words, and preferred to listen. He often waited for the other person to talk, and they inevitably did when faced with silence.
“I’m not usually that honest,” she murmured.
“Well, I didn’t invite you out tonight to talk politics, Shannon. Though if that’s the way conversation swings, I can hold my own.”
She wrinkled her nose. “We can skip the politics for now. So what about you? What have you been up to since graduating high school? Did you go to college?”
Five Alarm Alphas Page 47