Addison’s tentative, tired eyes met mine when he stepped away from her, only to wrap his arm around her waist from behind. Surprisingly, it wasn’t contempt that I saw in her gaze but relief and exhaustion.
Gavin’s hand cupped her hip, holding tight, from what I could tell. His fingers dipped under the edge of her shirt, and I gritted my teeth, wondering what he’d do if I pulled each one of them back inch, by inch, by inch…
I blinked a couple of times and then refocused on Addie. Only, her eyes were wide and sparkling, and those pretty pink lips I’d kissed were pulled into a smile—a smile that wasn’t for me.
Jealousy wasn’t an emotion I was used to experiencing. But as I watched Addison snuggle close to my best friend, I realized that emotion was hitting me hard and fierce—straight in the gut.
Worse yet? I had no clue how to handle it.
“I’m gonna go get some shut-eye.” Gavin finally pulled away, his arm going slack at his side. “See you later, Ads?”
My throat burned as I swallowed. Ads? What was this Ads shit?
Ignoring me, Gavin left for his duplex, leaving Ads and me alone and five feet away from each other. It was quiet. Tense. She didn’t move, and neither did I.
Well, until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“You shouldn’t have come here.” I’d turned into a liar. If anything, I was thanking Jesus and all his special men for allowing this woman to say Fuck you, pride and come take care of my sick daughter. But I wasn’t about to admit it. Not when all I wanted now was for her to leave…or beg me to push her up against that door again.
“Sounds to me like you should’ve thrown my phone number away, not plastered it to your refrigerator.”
I took a step closer, unable to help myself. I might not have wanted her there for the sake of my sanity, but my body had other plans. “Forgot to throw it out. My mistake.”
She snorted, the sound too damn cute not to grin at. And therein was the problem, because everything this girl did was cute. Which was exactly why I’d been on the phone with a nanny-finding service that specialized in old nannies—the grandma type. Just like Max had recommended. Not the kind with perfect asses, perfect smiles, and perfect lips that parted in an O when she came hard against the outline of my cock rocking against her.
I shuddered at the thought, squeezing my eyes shut, willing the memory to leave me alone. For good.
“You should be glad you forgot.” She crossed her arms. “He can’t handle being alone with her.”
She motioned her head toward the front door. I knew who she meant: Gavin. But the woman didn’t know a thing about him. “Why do you say that? He’s my best friend and loves my girl as much as I do. Would kill or be killed for the people he loves—always.”
“There’s no doubt in my mind that’s the case, Collin. But he’s not right in the head. Anyone can see that.” She tapped a finger against her temple. “I think…I think maybe he needs to see a counselor or something. I mean, isn’t he an EMT?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Soooo…then shouldn’t he have known what to do with a sick kid?”
I took a step back, gut going hard at the revelation.
“Not rocket science, you know,” she added.
Fuck. I knew Gav was having some issues, just didn’t know how bad they were. Movements jerky, Addison reached for her coat. “Doesn’t matter now. Chloe’s asleep, and her fever is finally down. The doctor said to alternate between Tylenol and ibuprofen every four hours if it comes back.”
Dumbly, I watched her move around the room. My world was completely warped from this new reality she’d just dropped on my head. Gavin… Jesus, why had I not noticed the signs? As his former superior, as his best friend, I’d been failing him, too focused on my own shit to help with the issues he was so obviously suffering from.
“…and I’d suggest taking her to the doctor today too. She was pulling at her ears a lot, so she might have an ear infection.”
I grunted—fucking grunted—because everything this woman said was right. Still, I didn’t stop her when she grabbed the door handle and said, “You’re welcome by the way, asshole.”
Chapter 14
Addison
For the first time since I’d started working at June’s Waffle House, the restaurant was packed. Except it wasn’t a group of senior citizens in there for the Tuesday meatloaf special. Nor was it a bunch of rowdy teenagers hanging out after school. This particular clientele was a team of thirteen very large men—all wearing familiar-looking black shorts and knee-high socks.
Carinthia Irish Rugby players.
Either this was a sign from God that I needed to pack up shop and move to another town altogether, or I needed to find myself a man to get my thoughts off one particular rugby player.
Samantha, the twenty-one-year-old waitress who worked with me three evenings a week, swept over. “Sweet Jesus. I think I’m in love.” She pressed two fingers against her lips, darn near giddy.
I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly how she felt. The difference was this time I knew what I was getting into when it came to these men.
“They don’t bite.” I shrugged, not entirely believing my words.
Lick, taste, kiss on the other hand—not to mention dry hump against doors—that was a whole other story. I blinked away the image my brain had produced, hating how it was always so fresh in my mind.
No matter how much I told myself not to look for him, I scoured the four booths and the men they housed, doing just that. No way did I actually want to see him there, especially when I was pretty positive I hated him. It was more like damage control, a way to prepare myself if I needed to duck and run. Luckily for me, Mr. Broody McBroody Pants was nowhere to be found.
“Do you want me to take one of the booths for you?” Eagerness shadowed Samantha’s voice as she bounced up and down on the balls of her white tennis shoes.
“Have them all.” I winked and then paused. “Except for the one closest to the register.”
Her bright eyes twinkled with excitement. Samantha was most definitely a man-getter. If she saw a man, she went and got him, no second thoughts and absolutely no regrets.
Shoulders back, ready to face the firing squad, I zeroed in on the guy looking at me with brown, come-hither eyes. Max was an attractive specimen of a man. You’d have to be blind not to notice, but he was best friends with the enemy. Thankfully, the enemy wasn’t here, so I could at least attempt to be civil for the sake of tips. I had nothing against Collin’s friends, but there was no telling what kind of BS the guy had said about me after our interview nearly three weeks ago.
“Well, look at you, Short Stuff.” Max stood when I reached the table, wrapping his arms around my waist and swinging me in a circle like we were long-lost best friends. “Gettin’ sexier every time I see you.” He tugged on my apron as he put me down, his arm still semi-wrapped around my waist. “Nice digs, by the way.”
I grimaced. And because I didn’t do well with huggage or compliments, I gave a nod and an awkward pat on his shoulder in return.
“What can I get you guys?” I swallowed my nerves and looked at the blond sitting across from Max. He was attractive in a cocky-bastard way. He knew it too and seemed to want the world to take note. Blue eyes, white teeth, clean workout clothes—unlike his teammates’ dirty and holey clothes. A pretty college boy. I’d met enough of them in my life to know.
“How about a platter of you served with me on top?” The guy winked. Max set his hand on the table and groaned.
“Um, no. I’m not on the menu.” My jaw clenched as I glanced toward Samantha. She was getting her flirt on, happy as a little lark.
“If I was cooking, you sure as hell would be. Put you on my table, spread your legs—”
“Does that really work for you?” I zeroed in on Blondie again.
His gaze perused me from
head to toe. “Every time, pretty lady. Every. Single. Time.”
I laughed—snorted really—but it wasn’t the type of laughter you’d mix with humor. This guy was asking for trouble, and it’d come in the form of my foot to his head, if he wasn’t careful.
“Leave her be. She’s already been claimed.” Max leaned back and folded his arms over his chest with a frown.
“And what is that supposed to mean?” I tapped my pen against my ordering notepad.
His lips twitched. “Nothing.”
Oh God. He knew, didn’t he? Collin’s doing, I was sure. Probably pushed the story past acceptable limits for the sake of his pride too.
Ugh. I really disliked men. All of them.
“Excuse me.” With narrowed eyes, I tucked my ordering pad into my apron and turned toward the counter.
There, I met June’s gaze as she scrubbed down the tiled countertop. “Not your break time.” A warning lit up her stare, as well as her words. One that said Don’t mess this up, or you’re fired. And because I was in desperate need of the money, I’d do just about anything to keep her happy.
Smile forced, I lowered my chin to my chest, hating how I felt more like a scolded child than a grown woman. But still, I blew out a breath and decided on a different path to take. If I switched a table with Samantha and let her handle Max and Blondie, this night might be more doable after all.
I turned back around, ready to do so, when the bells over the front door jingled and pulled my attention away.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I whispered, asking the invisible God in the clouds if he had a death wish for me. Because being anywhere near him made my chest combustible.
No matter how much I told myself I never wanted to see him again, I couldn’t help but react to Collin’s presence. He commanded a room, the whole former-marine package written in his stature. Thick, black hair that curled at the ends. His smile and the dimples accompanying said smile. Then there were his square jaw and imperfect nose, both somehow making him look even more perfect than he already did.
I sighed in an attempt to even out my breathing. Whether Collin knew it or not, he made me into someone I never wanted to be: a bumbling, teenage-crushing idiot who took pleasure in getting near a fire—especially when the flames were of hot-man intensity.
“No way.” I turned my head, finding Blondie now standing beside me. He followed my line of sight, a sneer on his lips as he said, “You and Montgomery?”
I stiffened.
Move, punch, kick, slice: the words were like little reminders screaming in my brain.
Yet I couldn’t move away because that would draw unwanted attention from Collin. So when the guy pressed his hand against the small of my back as I turned to face the counter once more, I stayed as still as I could, praying he’d get the hint.
“Don’t touch me,” I hissed through my teeth.
Blondie cleared his throat, nodding toward Samantha instead of heeding my warning. I glanced over my shoulder to see what he was motioning to. Grin wide, eyes alight, she pawed at Collin’s arm.
Then terrible, horrible, no-good Number Six, in all of his monster-height glory, leaned in to whisper something into her ear. She giggled, pressing her hand to his chest, and a sharp stab of something hit me in my stomach.
Did they know each other? Had he dry-fucked her against the door?
I looked down at the counter again.
“You gonna take that, pretty girl? Gonna let him lead you on while he dicks around behind your back?” I flashed a death look toward Blondie, finding an irritating smile flashing on his face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I turned to face him full-on, chin high. “Now, if you’ll please take your hands off me, I’d very much appreciate it.” Around his blue irises, the whites of Blondie’s eyes were red, almost like he was on something—drugs, maybe? From a distance, he looked put together. Up close like this, he looked scary.
His lip curled. “You need a real man. Not someone who—”
“Sit down, dumbass.” Max was there, grabbing Blondie’s arm, disgust and boredom clouding his face.
“Nah.” Blondie moved in closer, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Think I’m liking the view up here much better.” His breath washed over my face, the scent of liquor and cigarettes colliding with my nose.
“There a problem here, McIntire?”
And then he was there. That voice, those words…the touch of his hand along my wrist.
Sneaky like a fox, fast like a lion on the hunt…
“Collin.”
The sound of his name was like the fuel I needed to get out of this mess. So I used the interruption to take another step away. With his forehead creased, Collin watched me move, but unlike Blondie, he looked almost…concerned.
No, that couldn’t be right. Mr. McBroody didn’t care about me.
“If you’ll excuse me, I was just about ready to take my break.”
My throat was drier than the desert in mid-July, coarser than the heaviest grade of sandpaper. It hurt to breathe, to think even.
Somehow, I managed to push my feelings away and headed back toward the break room.
“Addie,” Collin called out, the sound almost pleading—but not nearly enough to keep me from walking away.
Ignoring June’s annoyed stare, I moved behind the counter, untied my apron, and hung it over the rack beneath the counter.
“Taking my fifteen.”
“I said no.”
I froze at June’s command, my hands pressed against the swinging doors that led to the kitchen.
“Samantha can handle it. And I feel sick.” Which wasn’t far from the truth.
“Not the point. You’re my employee; you do what I say. It’s not time for your break. This is the busiest we’ve been in months.”
I shut my eyes, wishing like hell I had the ability to stop time. If I could, then I’d escape this entire place, no questions asked, no old-lady boss to tell me what to do.
At a rate below snail, I turned to face her, trying to gauge the anger in her eyes. But a smack and then a thud sounded from behind her, taking what little patience I had left and smashing it to smithereens.
“Oh God.” I swooped past the counter, going straight for Collin, not thinking, just reacting.
Over and over, he whaled on Blondie’s face. Blondie seemed to match him in weight and size, but Collin still overpowered him. The two of them rolled around on the tiled floor, tables and chairs crashing every which way. It was the street brawler’s version of ultimate fighting, with a ring not contained by ropes or controlled by a ref. Not to mention a clear winner who was enjoying toying with his opponent.
“Stop it!” I yelled, reaching down to grab the back of Collin’s jersey when nobody else would. If anything, their teammates looked almost amused by the fight—some laughing, others shaking their heads. Even Max looked more annoyed than worried.
I grabbed the end of Blondie’s shirt this time as he rolled on top of Collin, but my hands slipped before I could get a good grip. Just when I thought I had a good hold on him, Blondie threw his elbow back and rammed it square into my eye.
Black and red spots danced in my vision and I moaned, falling onto my ass.
Samantha darted to my side, squatting down next to me. “Oh my God, are you okay?”
“She’s fine.” June moved in from my left, whipping her apron off. “And all of you need to get out of my restaurant before I call the law.” She clapped her hands, and just like that, the men split apart, fighting over.
How did she…?
“And you”—she jabbed a finger in my face while I blinked, confused—“are very much fired. Pack your things and don’t come back.” Her lip curled in distaste as she motioned her hand toward the men. “Bringing this sort of foulness into my business. How dare you?”
My swollen eye watered, and my lips parted in shock. “June, come on. It wasn’t my fault.” Panic pushed a knot into my throat, choking me.
No, no, no. If I lost my job and what minimal money I was receiving, then I’d wind up right where I had been two weeks ago.
“Please. Just give me another chance. I didn’t know they were going to be here or that this would happen, I swear to—”
“Save the excuses and go.” She hovered over me, hands on her hips. With white curls of hair hanging over her forehead and dark-shaded glasses covering her blue eyes, the woman looked like the Abominable Snowman’s even more evil twin.
From day one, this lady had had it out for me, looking for any and all excuses to fire my sorry ass. Dropping dishes: That’s money out of your paycheck. Losing orders: Stay after work and mop the floor. Getting orders wrong: You’re a lunatic who probably can’t even read.
Yeah. So maybe I wouldn’t be too bent out of shape over losing this job. But still…I so, so needed the money.
A growl pulled my gaze toward the guys. Max had his arm around Collin’s shoulder, talking in his ear.
Collin, on the other hand, stared murderously at Blondie’s back, just as he, thankfully, tucked his tail and ran out the front door.
Max took a step back as Samantha moved to grab a white towel off the counter. Hurried motions led her to Collin’s side, where she pressed the material to his bloody temple like it was the most natural thing to do. Not amused, I watched her speak to him, her full lips pulled down in a frown. Another pang of jealousy swirled in my stomach, and I wanted to look away. Except that I didn’t. I couldn’t was more the case. Regardless of the fact that I’d just been slammed in the eye and lost my job, the only thing I could focus on was Collin.
And I hated him for that reason alone.
I reached for the seat of a nearby booth to pull myself up, but two strong arms hauled me off the floor instead. An overpowering sensation had my insides going warm at Collin’s sudden nearness, but the dizziness accompanying being vertical made it difficult to focus on his face.
Reckless Hearts Series, Book 1 Page 9