Nothing but cans, boxes and cases of beer greeted her. No sinister monster lurked beyond the threshold, waiting for another chance at her. She really was losing her mind. So she fainted. Big deal. The room had nothing to do with the fact that she didn’t eat enough, which was clearly the reason.
Failing to reassure herself, Riley wiped her hands on her slacks before passing through the opening and going in search of the salt.
It was unclear how many boxes she moved or how many she opened, but she must have been gone a while because the next moment, Octavian appeared in the doorway, confusion darkening his furrowed brow.
“Riley?”
Grunting in effort as she tried to heave a box full of tomato cans, Riley called, “Here!”
He crossed the space to stand behind her. “I can see that. What are you doing?”
She gave the box another shove, prepared to kick it next if it didn’t move. “Trying to get this stupid box out of the way!”
Octavian cleared his throat. She couldn’t see it, but she had a suspicion that he was smothering a chuckle. “Here. Let me.”
With an exasperated huff, Riley stepped aside, giving him room to take her place. He didn’t lift the box as she expected him to. Instead, he cocked his head to the side and surveyed the stack with interest.
“What are you looking for?”
Annoyed that he’d forgotten, especially after all the trouble she’d gone through, she replied sharply, “The salt.”
He turned to her. “This isn’t the salt.” He lifted a can of tomatoes from the box and held it up as though to prove it.
Riley, barely suppressing the urge to snatch it from him and pitch it at his head, gritted her teeth. “Yeah, I got that, but the box under—”
“Is beans, then corn and finally broth.” He pointed to each box until he got to the bottom.
Riley gaped. “How do you know that?”
He arched an eyebrow, dropping the can back into the box. “I’ve been at this a very long time. Look.” He faced the boxes and pointed at the labels. “Barley’s Co. is where we get our cans shipped from.” He moved a bit further to the right. “Greenway is where we get our napkins, paper cups and straws. Salt,” he said, darting his gaze over the rows, “is right…” He turned, still searching. “There!” He stabbed a finger at a box high up on a row of other boxes.
There was no way she’d have been able to bring that down. She would have needed a ladder or a crane. But Octavian had no problem reaching up and plucking the box down as though it were filled with feathers. Riley tried not to feel a flutter of girly awe at how the muscles on his arms bunched and moved with his graceful motion. She dampened her lips and took a shuffling step back as he brought the box to her and set it down on the box of tomato cans. Her gaze followed the long, blunt curves of his fingers and the scars that marred his large, capable hands. This was a man that liked using his hands. He could be forceful and demanding, or gentle and caring as the mood suited him. Something in that thought sent a shiver along Riley’s spine and gave a kick to the pit of her stomach. She bit her lip to keep from making a sound as he broke the seal on the box with a single powerful jerk. Her cheeks flamed as images of every cheesy romance novel she’d ever read flashed before her mind’s eye, images of those hands curling into the material of her shirt and yanking her forward with just as much force into the hard wall of his chest and holding her there as his mouth…
“Riley?”
Riley jumped. “I didn’t…!” She blinked, baffled by the white box he was holding out to her. “What?”
“Salt?” He waved it towards her. “You needed it, didn’t you?”
“Needed?” she mumbled stupidly, mind still fogged with thoughts of him shoving her up against the tower of boxes and kissing her senseless. She fought to resurface, but it was hard to do when he was watching her with a look that did nothing to hinder the fantasy.
“Riley…” Shadows danced over his features, not enough to conceal the warning in his eyes as he drank her in, but enough to caress every inch of her with fiery tongues. “Take it.”
She knew he meant the salt box. He had to, because no way was he telling her to take the risk and jump him. No way was she that lucky. So she reached for it, only to have his arm drop back to his side, taking the salt with it. His weight shifted even as her gaze shot to his face and he invaded the two steps separating them. Her breath caught, and then sped up as her heart raced in her chest. She took a clumsy step back, coming up against a stack of boxes.
Trapped! Panic and excitement bolted through her as he came even closer.
“What are you thinking, Riley?” His quiet voice rang with dark humor, like he knew exactly what she was thinking, but wanted to torture her into saying it out loud.
“I wasn’t…” She dampened her lips nervously. “I wasn’t thinking anything.”
For several long moments, he didn’t respond, seemingly too mesmerized by her mouth to realize she’d spoken. Then, taking his time, he let his gaze wander upward until it was locked with hers. His head tipped to the side.
“You can’t lie to me, Green-eyes,” he said slowly. “I know exactly what you want.” He studied her mouth once more. “And God help me if I don’t want it, too.”
Blood hummed hot in her ears as she stared into his eyes, captivated by the power behind them and for the first time in her life, she didn’t shy away from it.
She pushed away from the boxes, bringing herself to close what little space was remaining between them. “What’s stopping you?”
His eyes flashed with her challenge. His mouth opened even as it lowered closer to hers.
“There you two are!” Gideon strolled into the stock room, hands in his pocket, gait light and casual, but his eyes were on his brother, carefully unreadable. “We have customers.”
Riley fought against the curling wave of heat washing up into her face, but it was a losing battle and she felt her cheeks darken. “Oh! Right.”
She started for the door, careful to keep her attention pinned to the ground and not the figure moving aside to give her room.
“Riley.”
Her heart jumped at the sound of her name in Octavian’s voice. Her feet missed a step and she stumbled as she turned to face him.
He walked slowly towards her, his eyes rooting her in place. “Don’t forget this.” He held out the box of salt.
Riley took it from him, hypnotized by his gaze. “Thank you.”
He gave the smallest inclination of his head.
“Better hurry before the customers eat each other,” Gideon said. “We’re not licensed for cannibalism.”
Cheeks prickling, Riley ducked her head and darted from the room, hurrying through the kitchen to the customers waiting for her.
Except there were no customers.
The dining area was empty, save for Liam and Kyaerin who were still seated at the table by the window. Confusion had her crossing the room to stand at Kyaerin’s elbow.
“Did they leave?” she asked, dread curdling in her stomach.
Kyaerin glanced up. “Pardon?”
Riley did another take of the room, just in case she’d missed someone. “The customers.”
Liam frowned. “What customers?”
Now Riley was confused. “I thought…” She shook her head. “Never mind. Sorry. I thought someone came in.”
Kyaerin checked her watch. “The evening rush shouldn’t start for another half hour.”
Apologizing again, Riley went back to the counter with her box of salt wondering why Gideon would lie.
“Wait for me.” It didn’t need to be said, except it had become a routine.
Every night, Riley got off work at exactly one thirty in the morning and each time Octavian walked her to the staff room, told her to wait for him while he grabbed his coat. Then, he would walk her home. It was one part of the whole night she actually looked forward to, those precious moments along with him when a whole other side of him seemed to materialize,
a side she was quickly becoming infatuated with, a side that was sweet and funny and beautiful in a way that made her hurt.
“Busy night, eh?” Riley turned to peer up at the man walking alongside her down a familiar stretch of road.
“Finally,” he mumbled. “But you’ll get used to it. We don’t normally get a lot of business through the winter.”
“I’m surprised you get any business at all,” she remarked. “Did you know until I found your wallet, I didn’t even know Final Judgment existed? And I live just down the street.”
“The cliental that visits isn’t your normal breed of bar goers.” He grinned at her. “They’d find us anywhere.”
“Well, I love working there,” she said honestly. “Some of the people are… questionable, but the majority of them are really okay. Plus it’s always fun watching Reggie try and hit on women twice his age.”
Octavian chuckled. “He never learns.”
She hesitated a second before speaking the words circulating in her mind. “You don’t do too badly in the companion department. I’ve seen more than one woman pass you her number.”
“Yes.” Was all he said.
When he said nothing more, she wondered how to ask if he was interested in those girls, if he kept those numbers, if he called them. The latter made her cringe. She hated that such a small thing infuriated her so much. It wasn’t as though he owed her an explanation. But, damn it, she wanted one.
Man she was pathetic.
“I throw them out.”
Riley started, head whipping around to the sound of his voice. “What?”
He was staring straight ahead, but there was a twinkle in his eyes and a small grin on his mouth. “I don’t keep them.”
Feeling her face burn, Riley quickly looked away. “I didn’t say—”
“You didn’t have to.” He stopped at the bottom of her apartment stairs and turned to her. “I told you, I can read you.”
Embarrassment sharpened her tone when she bristled. “I don’t care if you keep them!”
His eyebrow lifted. “Okay.”
Riley blinked. “Okay what?”
He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Okay I won’t throw them out.”
It annoyed her that she was annoyed and they both knew it. What annoyed her more was that she knew he was toying with her and yet she couldn’t stop the irritation. God, she did not want to be this person.
“Fine.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “Keep them. Like I said, I don’t care. Goodnight.”
She made to flounce away in that graceful way people did in movies where they stormed away looking regal and elegant. Instead, she turned too quickly and without looking and wound up tripping on the first step and nearly face planting on the rest. She was saved solely by the quick hands that grabbed her waist from behind and yanked her back against a hard, warm chest, knocking the wind from her lungs.
“Liar.” The single word blew like a soft breeze into her ear, sending a tremor through her. “Riley?”
Dizzy, breathless, giddy, and so many other emotions to count, Riley could only manage a strangled sound in response.
“Are you sure you won’t care?”
Heart hammer in her chest, Riley shook her head stubbornly.
She heard his tongue click. “Such a liar.”
Carefully, she turned her head slightly to the left, coming eyelevel with his chiseled jaw, gorgeous lips and finally settled on his haunting eyes. “So what if I did?”
A slow smile touched his mouth. “I’d tell you, you have nothing to worry about.”
Chapter 8
Friday came to Riley the way Christmas came to a child. Friday was payday and she had never been so excited for the mail to arrive. Alex Knowles, their postman, jumped when Riley metaphorically tackled him before he even had the chance to climb the apartment steps. He warily eyed her as he flipped through the letters in his hand. When he passed it over, it was with the caution one showed while trying to feed a hungry mountain lion.
The numbers were beautiful on the check, a series of digits that determined the difference between life and death. Literally. The sight of it nearly brought tears to her eyes as she clutched it to her heart and squealed with giddy pleasure, ignoring Mr. Knowles when he edged away from her.
With a new sense of purpose, Riley hopped into her car and burned rubber getting into town. She hit the bank first followed abruptly by the post office. Dropping off the payment for the phone and rent, she took the little remaining after groceries and splurged, buying herself a dress for work.
It was getting too cold for a dress, but the color matched her eyes and it had been on sale. Plus, she hadn’t missed Octavian’s comment about her eyes the day before. The memory of those few stolen moments with him brought a flood of heat rushing through her that both flustered and delighted her. Before she knew it, she was grinning and practically skipping, which was no doubt getting her a few odd stares, but she just couldn’t bring herself to care. The world was beautiful for the first time in forever. She actually felt like there was something to look forward to other than dread. For once, she couldn’t wait for tomorrow and the day after and it was made brighter by the knowledge that she would be working at Final Judgment and seeing Octavian — the latter most of all.
At home, she showered quickly and pulled on her new dress.
The material tumbled down her body, settling in all the right places to emphasize all the important parts that normally she didn’t have, but in that dress, totally looked like amazing. The U neckline fell just low enough to be sexy, but high enough not to horrify parents where any to ever walk into the diner, and the hem was a cute and flirty five fingers from her knees. It was perfect.
But her ear to ear grin didn’t last when she realized the tight sleeves stopped just above her elbows, leaving bare the bandages mummifying her forearms. Gingerly, she unraveled the gauze and stared down at the welts marring her arms. Going without band aids was clearly out of the question, but going with ruined the dress. There was no helping it.
With a dejected sigh, she reapplied burn ointment, rewrapped her arms in fresh bandages and walked over to her closet. She removed a knitted sweater in soft black and swung it on.
It wouldn’t win any fashion awards, but it would have to do.
“Dad?” She walked into the living room and found her father watching the hockey game.
He sat statue straight, eyes glued to the screen. The ridged posture of his back reminded Riley of someone prepared to lunge into battle. His hands were fisted on his knees, the knuckles white.
“Dad,” she said again, going to stand at his side. “I’m leaving.”
“Okay.” He ducked and weaved as the player on screen stole the puck and tore back towards the other end of the ice. “Be careful.”
“Right,” Riley muttered as she left him to his game and walked into the kitchen. She snatched her purse off the counter and walked out of the apartment.
The evening rush was in full swing when Riley stepped through the doors of Final Judgment. Unlike the crowd the rest of the week, Fridays consisted of a younger crowd seeking a night of fun and debauchery. The women who usually played their instruments in the corner were absent. This wasn’t their crowd. Instead, the room pounded with the ear splintering clash of bass and drums. The five men were dressed entirely in shiny black leather pants, scuffed boots, makeup and nothing else. Their pale skin appeared even whiter in the harsh light falling over the stage. Their makeup, consisting of black lipstick, guy-liner and black eye shadow had begun to run in the heat. Sweat glistened on their skin, and flew in all directions with every buoyant dance move from the leader singer as he head-banged to his own lyrics. Riley had no idea what he was screeching about, was almost certain it wasn’t even real words he was belting out, but he was keeping the bobbing and weaving figures on the dance floor happy.
Grinning, she stripped off her coat and hurried into the kitchen.
“Hello Gorje!” she ca
lled without pausing on her trip to the staff room.
He gave a grunt in response while dumping a fresh basket of oven toasted fries onto a plate.
Riley left him to it, skipping into the staff room and stuffing her jacket into the locker. She grabbed her apron and note pad before hurrying to join the party in the next room. At the doors, she paused to smooth a hand through her windswept hair and down the front of her dress. Once certain she looked the best she could, she pushed the doors open and stepped into the chaos. But her attention was more interested in searching the room for a single face. She spotted him almost instantly.
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