Third time. That was the third time he said savage. Dylan walked away, leaving me standing there, even more curious than before our talk. I wondered if he had drunk too much tonight. Obviously, Dylan knew nothing about women, because he just intrigued the hell out of me with his warning. Men were so clueless sometimes.
I spent the rest of that night wondering about Kade, and the reasons Dylan gave me to stay away from him. However, I ended up wasting my time wondering if I’d ever see him again, because within twelve hours, he was sitting in his dark corner, alone, watching me, again. Dressed in a crisp white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his suit jacket flung neatly over the back of the booth, he looked like he was waiting for an important business meeting, yet his attention was all on me.
I was hoping not to see him again.
Not anytime soon anyway, and especially not that night. Dylan spent that entire morning grumbling about Kade and how screwed up in the head he was, repeatedly telling me to stay away from him. Why he didn’t mention anything to Bree, was beyond me. That in itself made me feel extremely uncomfortable. Why wouldn’t he be warning Bree about him? Bree was the one that he should care about, not me.
I chanced a small peek at him from behind the bar. His jaw was clenched and his eyes looked so dangerous, they made my heart hammer in my chest and echo in my ears. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he leaned back against the red leather cushion of his seat. Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he ferociously stared at me, like a caged animal, and I was his prey. The common sense in me knew women shouldn’t like being objectified, like the way his eyes roamed my body, but I did. I liked it. A lot. It stirred an emotion in me as if I had just found out I had some sort of super power; it was powerful, raw, and dirty. It was intensely sexy as hell and my stomach fluttered with the excitement of it. God, I needed to get a grip and a life. I definitely needed to get a life. Quickly, I backed into the kitchen door, pushed it open with a swing of my hip, and ran in.
I found Dylan with his phone to his ear, smiling like an idiot. He pointed his index finger to the phone and mouthed, Bree. Covering the mouthpiece, he whispered, “I’m picking her up in a few. Are you sure you’re okay for a few hours?”
Nodding a smile in return, I calmly said, “Your brother is sitting at the back table.”
His face went pale, and then an enormous smile brightened his features. “Twice in two days, that’s a record. Maybe he’s returned to the human race. Take his order, let’s see what he does.” Then he reached his hand out to touch my shoulder. “Just…if he says anything nasty to you, don’t take it personally. Just give it right back to him and I’ll handle him if you can’t. Then I’ll go get Bree.” His hands were completely covering his phone now, and I laughed, knowing full well that Bree was still talking to him on the other end.
“Dylan, trust me. I can handle people. Just go take Bree out. You guys have been flirting like two sheltered teenagers with me as the third wheel for the last two months, so go have fun. She deserves a nice date.” Before I reached the door, I tapped my hand on the frame to make sure I had his attention, “Oh, and be romantic. She likes romance and all those girly things. She loves when a man brings her flowers.”
I walked out and around the bar, across the floor and stood right next to Kade’s table. Heat flamed across my body and I forced myself to take a deep breath before speaking. “Hello, I’m Lainey. What may I get for you today?”
Kade looked up, but his glare didn’t reach my eyes. He just looked at my shoulder, or just above it. His dark brows furrowed together and his lips turned down like he was appalled at my question, his face as hard as granite. “Another waitress,” he growled darkly.
“Well, then,” I smiled brightly trying not to show my complete mortification. I was confused. Wasn’t he just looking at me as if I was the last woman on earth? The sexy man was supposed to flirt with me and ask me for my number. I was supposed to decline kindly and walk away, feeling a little more confident in myself, like I could still pull off being sexy. He was ruining my fantasy. “I hope you enjoy the next few hours without a drink then, because I’m the only waitress here tonight.”
“Where’s Dylan?” he barked.
“He has a date tonight and since there’s never anyone here on a Monday, he’s taking a few hours off and I’m here.” All right then, that was enough, hop on out of here, jerk. Bye. Off you go now. I bent forward and spoke lower, “I guess that means you should leave?” I know I shouldn’t have said that, but I was angry. He made me feel like a goddess and now he didn’t even want to speak to me.
Intense stormy gray eyes flickered up to mine. There was a strange silence that traveled between us in the empty bar. His stare was dark and hostile. Antagonistic. Murderous. His whole demeanor was tense. “Fuck. Are your eyes green?” he asked, venomously. His fierce eyes maintained complete unwavering contact with mine, the kind of look that makes you want to back down.
I sure as fuck didn’t back down from anyone. I’ve eaten boys bigger than him for a snack.
I was surprised though. That wasn’t what I was expecting to come out of his mouth. “Yes. Scandalous isn’t it? Maybe I should poke them out for you and insert a color of your choice? Are you against all green-eyed waitresses taking your orders, or am I the only lucky one?”
His posture instantly changed. He leaned his body away from me, a look of complete fury falling across his features, as if he just watched me kick a newborn baby clear across the room and do a touchdown dance. What the hell is wrong with him? We had never even spoken before today. Maybe he had some mental issues going on.
From the corner of my eye, I watched as his right hand clenched into a tight fist, the tendons of his arms twisting and straining against his skin. His left hand gripped the edge of the table, knuckles turning white, as if he were holding on for dear life.
His dark eyebrows pinched together and his gaze averted to the stage behind me. His eye narrowed and with a curled lip, he muttered dryly, “Why don’t you just make yourself useful and lose your clothes and dance.”
Was he trying to piss me off? I stood frozen, blinking my eyes blankly at him. “I’m not a stripper.”
“I’ll pay you,” he smiled tightly, still looking beyond me at the stage.
“I. Am. Not. A. Stripper.”
“I bet you would be for ten grand,” he smirked, meeting his eyes to mine.
The urge to smack him tingled through my hand, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Forcing myself to detach from the situation, which was something I was trained to do, I smiled wider. “So, you think because you offered me ten thousand dollars, I would gladly jump on that stage and dance for you?” Was I on camera? Was he serious?
For a few slow heartbeats, he glared at me. Leaning forward, his voice dropped into a low raspy whisper, “For ten grand, I’m betting you’d do a hell of a lot for me.” He was dead serious.
I pulled out the chair across the table from him and sat down, clasping my hands together and plopped them under my chin. This conversation was not going to end well. I didn’t want to screw up anything for Bree by attacking my boss’s brother. I certainly couldn’t afford to cause any attention to where we were hiding by beating him to a bloody pulp either, so I had to calmly figure out how to deal with this animal.
“Please, Kade. Do tell me what makes you come to this conclusion of me, having never met me before.”
He stood up, and I immediately regretted thinking I could sit down and talk this out with him. Obviously, he needed to be taken to a psych ward, the freaking Freud Squad, for immediate evaluation. He was glaring down at me, raging gray eyes full of disgust. “You’re just like all the other sheep around here. Maybe a tad bit prettier than the rest of them, and I’m certain you will use it to your bloody advantage, people always do.” He flattened down his shirt and backed away from the table. “Now go make yourself useful, shake your pretty little ass up there for me and earn yourself a year’s salary. Maybe you could buy yourself something
pretty with the money. And, don’t call me Kade. It’s Mr. Grayson, since it’s your job here to serve me.” His slight English accent becoming more pronounced the angrier he got.
Again, I gave him a sweet smile, but damn, my hands were clenched into sweaty fists that were aching to knock a few of his perfect teeth out. “Wow. Big head, small mind, huh? I wouldn’t have pegged you as mentally incompetent, but I guess you really can’t judge a book by its cover.” I stood up slowly and leaned both hands down on the table. “I won’t dance for your money, Mr. Grayson. Sorry to shatter your clichéd stereotypical expectations of me.” He had no idea who I was or what things I had accomplished in my lifetime. Then again, look at what he was seeing; a pale faced woman, wearing ripped jeans, worn sneakers with holes in them, and hustling tables in a strip joint in the middle of nowhere, so maybe he’s right to assume things. I didn’t know. I didn’t care. I spun on my heels and walked away. Screw him. I knew this was the part I had to play now, but GOD, did it twist me up inside not being able to be myself in front of everyone.
“So why are you here then? If you’re not this clichéd version of a sheep I believe you are? Why not do something better with your life?” He barked. Oh, what now? Was he trying to save the poor waitress with his Prince Charming complex or was it an ignorant attempt at continuing the conversation with me?
Looking back, I met my eyes to his challenging ones. “How do you know I haven’t? And how do you know that this, right here, isn’t better than someplace else I’ve been?”
His mouth snapped shut. His dangerous dark features softened for a mere second before I turned my back to him and left him alone in the bar. This was his brother’s bar, I was sure if he wanted a drink bad enough, he’d know how to pour it, or snap his fingers to get some magical fairy that could. I sat behind the bar, pulled out my phone and pulled up some online newspapers to read figuring it was going to be a long night with him staring at me from his back table, fuming like a toddler for not getting under my skin. To hell with him, my skin was way too tough for some pathetic gorilla in a Gucci suit to break through.
Within ten minutes, I was blissfully comfortable reading the New York Times on the small screen of my phone, no longer thinking about Mr. Grayson. The next twenty minutes passed without incident, until a cold wind blew in from two older men coming through the front doors. The gentlemen, who were regulars, greeted me with a warm wave and before I could even get to their table, they called for two beers and two plates of burgers and fries.
Peeking my head into the kitchen, I whistled for Trevor, who was cooking that night and had to wake him up off one of the cots in the back room to cook. He groaned and muttered profanities at me playfully all the way back into the bar area, and I came out of the back laughing. My eyes went directly to the table Kade had sat in before, and to my relief, it was empty. But, when I grabbed two cold beers from the coolers behind the bar, I heard the slide of one of the bar stools across the wooden floors right next to me.
“Have a drink with me,” Kade’s husky voice said.
I looked up, stunned by his demand. He was leaning against the stool, which he had pulled up next to mine and was pouring an enormous glass of brandy for himself. There was no malice in his expression, no disgust from before, but his eyes were suspicious and cautious. Maybe he has multiple personalities?
Without giving him an answer, I turned and walked towards the two customers with their beers, telling them their food would be out in a few minutes. Walking back behind the bar, I pulled my stool as far as I possibly could from him and sat down, ignoring his glare.
“Did you not hear me or are you just ignoring me? Maybe you’re too simpleminded to understand me?” he demanded. Nope, not multiple personalities, just one big egotistical shitty one.
I laughed a small soft laugh and gave him a sad smile. I was too old to play games. I was too messed up with my own issues to care about his, and I didn’t do drama, not even on TV. “No, thank you, Mr. Grayson. Trying to intimidate me and putting me down might make you feel like more of a man in your small world, but it does nothing for me. I’ll enjoy sitting here alone a lot more.” I turned my back on him and continued reading my phone, in my mind betting that was the first time anyone told him no. I’m sure Kade Grayson had a long line of interested women offering their dancing services or doormat services to him for his money, but I wasn’t going to be one of them.
From the corner of my eye, I could still see the intensity of his stare. The man made me want to turn my head and stick out my tongue at him, and kick him hard in the shin. I didn’t though. I just watched him drain his drink, quietly place it back on the bar, push off from the stool, and walk to the exit as he whispered, “Goodnight, Lainey.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Grayson.”
After a while, when the men that were sitting alone finished their meal, they waved goodbye, leaving me with a generous tip, and I was alone. I didn’t want to let myself wonder about the mental state of Dylan’s brother, but I found myself analyzing what I might have done to cause such hostility in a man that had, only moments before, looked at me with such intense desire in his eyes that it made my knees weak. I came to no conclusions.
After a few quiet hours, Dylan and Bree came back from their date, followed by a friend of Dylan’s they had met up with along the way. Dylan jumped behind the bar, had us sit around a table, and brought out some beers for us. I just sipped at mine, feeling more and more uncomfortable with the events that occurred with Kade a few hours before. I wished I understood where his anger stemmed from; it could not have truly been from me, so I wondered where the misplaced anger was born. Being the person I was, I couldn’t walk away from a puzzle, no matter how complicated it presented itself to be. Especially if it took my mind off of the situation I was in.
“You are certainly as nice looking as Dylan said you were,” a male voice murmured at the table. Hmm. Nice looking…I hated that adjective used on me…
I shook the thoughts about Kade out of my head and looked up to see Dylan’s friend. Short brown hair, angular features, and a long Roman nose. A nose, which he held up in the air and constantly wrinkled as though criticizing a nasty odor that no one else could detect. He had a handsome smile; a right as rain Mr. Perfect. He was nowhere near as shockingly handsome as Kade and his dangerous dark features. With that thought, I gulped down my beer and had the strong desire to punch myself in the face. Why the hell would I compare him to Kade? Kade was a mean piece of work, and someone I would never allow myself to spend time with, no matter how attractive he was. I learned my lessons well about good-looking, dangerous, powerful men and believe me, Kade needed to be the last thing on my mind.
“I’m Francis, by the way.”
“Lainey. Pleasure to meet you,” I smiled.
Bree giggled next to me, obviously happy about this little set up. She wanted me to be happy here, and I understood her wanting to stay and make a home here. I just didn’t know what my plans were yet.
Francis talked with me for the rest of the night. He was a yapper and a gossipmonger, talking about everything and everyone. I let him dominate most of our conversations, which he fell into easily and I found him witty and kind. And so freaking boring. But right then, boring was good and the lack of effect and attraction was good for me, helped me to keep a distance. He was some sort of Environmental Scientist that specialized in something or other and had just returned home from somewhere in the Artic, and some other things that I really couldn’t stand to keep up with, but he was thrilled about telling me, so I just listened as much as humanly possible. He was born and raised in Oregon; married then divorced, backpacked across Europe for a few years while studying abroad, and thankfully was too narcissistic and self-absorbed to ask any personal questions about me.
He was sweet and nice, overly friendly and attentive; the complete opposite of most men I’d known. And, when the night was winding down, he asked, “Since you’re relatively new to this town, how about you let me take you out an
d show you around? I would really love a chance to get to know you.”
“That sounds nice,” I said, wanting to want to go, but honestly cringing at the thought of listening to his nonstop blabbering. Maybe he was just nervous and he’d be better on a date?
“How about tomorrow night? Can I steal you away from the bar for a while?”
Eager, are we?
“That sounds lovely,” I smiled. Then I told him where the trailer was that Bree and I lived in. He didn’t look down on me and he didn’t make me feel like I was just a lowly waitress or some stripper he could buy a lap dance from and then throw away. I looked forward to the date, if just for the fact that he was the complete opposite of Kade Grayson.
After Dylan drove Bree and I home, he came in for a while and they eyed each other as if they were ready to pounce, making me feel like the ugly redheaded stepchild that follows you around the playground, humming to herself. The three of us were standing in the small kitchen and she batted her eyelashes towards him in that flirtatious way I could never attempt for fear of looking like I was having an epileptic attack. Suddenly, my phone seemed really interesting to me and I uploaded every stupid app I’d heard about in the last month. Scrabble, sure! Bejeweled? Why Not. Word-With-Friends? Bring it! Singles support group? Hell yeah.
Dylan and Bree started peeking at the bedroom, obviously wondering how to go about dealing with the issue that was me. Let me translate: small trailer, one bedroom with two single beds and I don’t cherish watching live porn. Or having threesomes, for that matter. I would think that they took way too much coordination, way too much thought on where to put my elbows, and one more wet spot to worry about. Oh, and I am way too competitive, because if I didn’t score the winning shot, I’d be pissed off.
“Hey,” I waved at both of them. “Hi…how are you? Remember me? Lainey? Yeah… So… Um, why don’t you move this potential slumber party you’re both having in your heads to, let’s say, Dylan’s place, so I don’t have to be scarred for life, sound good?”
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