“It’s your first day, Veda.” Dante smiled, his beautiful white teeth contrasting against his ebony skin and lighting up her life. He squeezed her arms before making his way back behind the bar, which was just as packed with impatient customers, pointing at her as he moved. “Take your time, alright?”
“Um, waitress?”
“Waitress?”
“Waitress!”
Veda jolted and snatched the check out of the machine, shoving it in her apron—along with dozens of other checks she’d yet to drop—before turning back to the tables. Predictably, she found herself on the receiving end of irritated eyes all around. She hurried back into the snake pit cradling a tray of drinks, dropping them where she hoped they needed to be. She wasn’t blind to the looks of confusion her customers gave her and each other, turning away from them as they exchanged drinks, righting the order she’d wronged.
She navigated the tables as best she could, dropping checks, taking orders, and clearing dirty dishes, all while being screamed at by spurned patrons.
She’d endure ten more years of medical school over this, anytime. Any day.
“Yo, waitress!”
Veda groaned, stumbling to a stop next to a booth at the back of the bar. Not because she wanted to, but because the customer sitting at the booth had left her no choice, throwing his arm out to block her path. The door to the kitchen swung open and closed before her as her fellow co-workers zoomed in and out, most of them doing their job and hers as they hustled to pick up her slack. Thankfully, they were just as forgiving as Dante, clapping reassuring hands on her shoulders with amused smiles and words of encouragement every time they passed. One even seized the tray of dirty dishes from her hands on their way by, sending her awash with relief.
Facing the table of men who’d stopped her, she couldn’t decide what made her stomach go deathly sick, her baby changing its mind and deciding the morning sickness wasn’t over, or the four men looking back at her.
Eugene Masterson. Todd Lockwood. Two of their rich friends, one of whom was on the list of balls she’d yet to remove.
She decided the urge to empty her guts on that table definitely wasn’t her baby’s fault. How could it be with the four disgusting animals sitting before her?
“Yes?” She jutted her leg out.
Behind her, the abuse continued.
“Waitress, more Diet Coke?”
“Can I get my extra ranch?”
“Where is our food? It’s been forty minutes!”
“Um, Waitress?”
“Waitress?”
“Waitress!”
“Yeah.” Todd Lockwood’s bright blue eyes widened as he lifted his plate, a sandwich and fries, so Veda could see. “I ordered a pulled pork sandwich, and this is a roast beef sandwich. How hard can this be?” He cringed. “Aren’t you a doctor?”
“My coke is flat.” Eugene Masterson flicked his half empty soda glass in disgust, making it slide away from him.
“I asked for more ketchup ten minutes ago.”
“My soda isn’t flat, but unfortunately it’s been empty for almost half an hour.”
“And my pulled pork sandwich is still a roast beef sandwich.” Todd glared. “Are you going to continue to stand there looking dazed and confused, or are you going to fix my order?”
As Veda’s breathing picked up, she focused on the fact that, even as they harassed her, Todd and Eugene had both lost something. She saw it, clear as day. A gleam in their eye they would never get back. A square of the shoulders they could no longer maintain. A darkness that only manifested itself when one’s body was taken against their will. She recognized that darkness because it was the same darkness that gave her nightmares every day. She’d never been happier to be the person to deliver it. Never happier that she’d snatched their family jewels. She had half a mind to go in for round two and slice out the silicone testes she knew they’d both had implanted.
Just for fun.
“Let me help you out,” Todd said, speaking slowly as if talking to a preschooler. “A pulled pork sandwich is made from pork. Pork comes from pigs. A roast beef sandwich is made from beef. Beef comes from cows. Cows go moo, and pigs go oink-oink!”
When his friends exploded with laughter, Veda tightened her fists.
“Say it with me, doctor,” Todd spat. “Cows go moo—pigs go oink-oink. Do you get it now?”
A red-headed waitress whose name Veda hadn’t yet learned swept in, replaced Eugene’s flat soda, dropped fresh ketchup, and snatched Todd’s plate before grabbing Veda’s arm and dragging her through the swinging doors that led to the kitchen.
Veda was already untying her apron as the redhead screamed to the chef. “I need a pulled pork sandwich on the fly, Angel!”
Angel rolled his eyes which, in her short time at Dante’s, Veda had learned was his favorite thing to do. He shot her a poisonous look and then went to work on the pulled pork sandwich, even though he already had dozens of orders waiting to be prepared in the queue.
“Don’t worry about those guys.” The redhead said. “They’re always assholes. Do you want me to take them off your hands?”
Veda knew the redhead was only offering to take her table so she could double her tips for the night, but Veda didn’t give a damn about the money she’d lose. Anything to not have to deal with those assholes in any other capacity than ripping their nuts apart.
“Yes, please,” Veda sighed. “Thank you.”
“Veda, order up!” Angel said, throwing three steaming plates of food on the stainless steel island that separated them.
Veda stared at the plates, having no idea who the hell they belonged to. She took them and made her way back into the shark pit, hoping she’d have an epiphany on her way out.
She didn’t—forced to take a wild guess. When she dropped the plates and was met with frowns of confusion, she got the hell out of there as quickly as she could. If they were hungry, they had food in front of them to eat. Why couldn’t that be enough? Why did orders have to be perfectly correct? Food was food, right?
“Veda,” Dante called from the bar. “Take ten!”
It was the two most beautiful words Veda had heard in her life, and as she removed the apron from her waist, stomped out of the bar and into the night air, she had a very real fear that she would not be coming back. Not even the calm marina waters or the rocky black cliffs greeting her from a distance were enough to ease her anxiety as she stomped through the parking lot.
“Veda…”
She stumbled to a stop at the sound of her name. She swiveled on her heels to follow the voice, even though she already knew the owner without looking.
Gage stepped out of his matte black Rolls-Royce Phantom convertible—hesitating in the midst of closing the door as his eyes ran her body, alight with amusement as a smile threatened his lips.
“You work here?” He pushed the door closed, dropping his keys into the pockets of his dark washed jeans. A snug black t-shirt hugged his arms. They flexed under her gaze.
Veda crossed her arms, apron crumbled in her hand. “Yes, I work here now. Since somebody decided to cut my hours.”
He licked his lips, letting his gaze move toward the marina. The moonlight shining down from the black sky made his eyes glimmer, showcasing the copper hue that lingered deep. The breeze blew his hair, but since he’d cut it so short, it didn’t dance with as much life as she remembered.
Sinking his hands in his pockets, so deeply it made brand new lines in his already strong arms, he reclaimed her gaze. “First day?”
“Yep.”
“How’s it going?”
“Well, I’ve learned that dealing with furious customers is very similar to dealing with a pack of rapid dogs. Just avoid direct eye contact at all costs. Great way to diffuse the entire situation.”
“Not sure how well that strategy will hold up.” He began taking slow steps closer.
Veda crossed her legs at the ankles, lifting her eyes to hold his gaze as he moved in. On
top of the stress over what a terrible waitress she was, she’d also been sick with thoughts of Gage. Sick with regret over not listening to Hope sooner.
Sleeping with him when he’d come over the night before had been a grave mistake. She knew they weren’t back together, but that was what she wanted. Not casual sex. Not a booty call. She wanted her relationship back. She wanted her child’s father back. She wanted to make things right.
She made a vow, right then, that she wouldn’t get in bed with him again. Not when he’d left her so unsure of his own thoughts, his own heart, and his own desires.
“Let me drive you home,” he whispered, slowing to a stop, just close enough for his scent to surround her.
Veda couldn’t help but breathe him in, eyes fluttering shut when she realized it was no use.
It was no use allowing herself to be in denial. Allowing herself to deny the incessant pulse of her pussy, which squeezed tight for him even then. To deny the need that was so carnal, it made her forget every messy facet of her life. Her new job fell away. Jax Murphy’s dead body fell away. The police being on her trail fell away. Even Brock Nailer fell away. Everything fell away, and all that existed was him. His light. The light currently blasting through her and making everything magically right.
“I’ve still got three more miserable hours,” she whispered.
“I’ll wait.”
She knew she’d never be able to resist him if he drove her home, and sleeping with him again would send her sinking deeper into the casual sex vat she was already slowly drowning in. She couldn’t take it anymore, and silently begged for courage.
She found it. “Gage, what is this?”
His eyes hardened as if he’d been waiting for the question, but hadn’t expected it right then.
Veda’s chest heaved desperately. “Are we…? Are we back together? Are we just having sex? Am I just…” She laughed softly. “Am I just your late night booty call now?”
He searched her eyes, chest rising. “I don’t know.”
She shook her head, terror seizing her heart. “You don’t know?”
Something flashed through him that made him go to respond, but something else came right on its heels, sealing his lips shut. He looked away from her, running his fingers down his jaw.
Then, his eyes were back on hers, filled with new emotion. “Veda, all I know is—”
“Veda!”
They jolted at the unexpected voice, eyes flying to the door of the bar. Dante poked his head out of the door, smiling at her while nodding inside. “Breaks over. Back to the lion’s den.”
Veda didn’t know what broke her heart more, the fact that Dante had just interrupted the conversation she’d been terrified to start, or that he’d interrupted it to invite her back into her new worst nightmare.
She met Gage’s eyes, and they shared a nervous laugh as she slung the strings of her apron back around her waist.
“Time to go get cussed out some more,” she said, moving back toward the door, fumbling to tie her apron strings at the small of her back. “I can hardly contain myself.”
He took her arm before she went too far, chest swelling when she turned and looked up at him. He held her eyes and stepped closer, slowly licking his lips before moving behind her.
Veda craned her eyes to hold his gaze, heart breaking a little when he stepped out of her line of sight.
He took her hands from behind, moving them away from her apron strings. Eyes lowered, his breathing grew slow and deep as he finished tying it for her, his fingers brushing the swell of her ass as he worked, lighting fire to her body with each gentle stroke.
When the apron was tied, he kept his eyes down, watching his own hands as he set them on either side of her hips, digging his fingers in, his thumbs pressing into the soft globes of her ass.
“Am I taking you home?” he whispered.
Veda searched his eyes over her shoulder, seeing the same hurt in them she felt in her heart. She wanted to tell him that if he “didn’t know” what they were, if he “didn’t know” what they were doing, and if he “didn’t know” if they were back together, then she wouldn’t be going home with him until he did. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she knew she couldn’t control herself. She knew her heart couldn’t handle the aftermath.
Instead of saying any of that, however, she pressed her lips together, fighting to contain her emotions, and nodded, forcing a shaky smile. “Assuming I make it to the end of this shift alive. Yeah…”
He smiled back, eyes running her body, dragging the pads of his fingers down her hips until his hands naturally fell away.
Veda climbed the steps back up to the bar, feeling the heat of his body close behind. Feeling his intense eyes running every inch of her, setting every nerve ending in her body on edge. As she went to pull open the door, he reached in from behind and finished the job, holding his arm high so she could get under his bulging bicep and back inside the bar.
——
Starting the “what are we doing?” conversation with Gage earlier that evening had been difficult. Terrifying. One of the scariest things Veda had ever done.
She hadn’t realized just how scary it was until she found it impossible to bring it up again. Until she found herself spread eagle in his king sized bed later that night, her thighs nearly coming unhinged from her body as his incredible weight thrust between them, forcing them as far apart as they could go.
She hadn’t been able to stay strong. She hadn’t been able to deny him when he’d sealed his lips to the crook of her neck seconds after stepping through his front door. She hadn’t been able to fight.
But even if he was balls deep inside her on the same night she’d made a vow not to sleep with him again, Veda couldn’t deny that this time was different.
This time, he faced her. Holding her gaze through every strike of his hips. This time, he kissed her. Just as slowly and patiently as he took her, lashing his tongue tenderly against hers, letting her taste his every strangled moan. This time, he didn’t fuck her. He loved her the way he used to. This time, he looked into her eyes as he came, refusing to break their gaze until every shot had been expelled from him, filling her to the hilt with his surrender.
This time, he’d continued the conversation she’d been too afraid to. In the only way he knew how.
At least, that was what Veda hoped. She couldn’t be sure because while some part of him was able to speak his emotions through his body, another part of him still couldn’t shape them into words.
And Veda needed the words.
Even as he reached between their sweat-slicked bodies and pulled out of her, he didn’t break their gaze.
She swallowed thickly, keeping her eyes on his, feeling her own spreading wide as saucers.
Fear.
Fear of the next words that would come out of his mouth as he fell onto his back with a satiated sigh. Fear that he was on the verge of telling her how great the sex had been, but that she should probably get going because he had an early day. Fear of rejection from a man she wanted back with every fiber of her being.
That fear took over in a flash, and Veda found herself sitting up and throwing her legs over the edge of the bed. She squinted down at the floor—the tiny wisp of moonlight through the windows serving as the only illumination in the dark room—and swallowed thickly as she retrieved her sky blue panties from their pool on the floor. The rest of her clothes were scattered on the floor as well, leading an uneven path to the door of his bedroom, out into the hallway, and all the way to the staircase where he’d first lost all patience, ripping her clothes off in his haste to get her to the bedroom.
The panties wobbled under her hold, her heart heavy, determined to get dressed.
If Gage threw her out, it would destroy her.
Throwing herself out would be ten times easier to swallow. It’d be a blow that left her stumbling, sure, but it wouldn’t knock her out.
She still had a lot of fight left for him—for their b
aby—and she wasn’t ready to relinquish it just yet. She wasn’t ready to set herself up just to be knocked out.
No matter how badly she wanted to stay, she knew she had to go.
Fighting tears, she held her panties up to make sure they were in the right direction, gasping when his arm came around her waist from behind. He cupped her waist, comically tiny under his massive hand, and squeezed her. His lips brushed the back of her neck. He kissed it softly. His gentle pecks traveled her shoulder. His other arm joined the first, encircling her completely. He pulled her backward. His heartbeat drummed at her spine. His breath tickled her ear.
“Stay,” he whispered.
Another soft gasp left her lips. The panties fell from her quaking fingers and tumbled down to the floor. She turned her head to meet his eyes.
But he caught her lips in a soft kiss instead, tugging her bottom lip between his, holding it as he drew in a deep, trembling breath. His arms tightened, nearly stealing her breath as his hold grew stronger, no longer leaving room for her to wiggle free, sealing her back to his chest so that when he fell onto the bed, he took her with him.
Veda forced her eyes closed, emotional tears burning them as she found herself encased within the warmth of his big body, curling into hers from behind, their limbs clicking into place like two pieces of a puzzle. Their legs tangled, his wispy black hairs tickling her smooth skin.
His light blasted through her, and she hugged his arms, locking her hands around his wrists to hold him in place. Even though it was impossible, she tried her damnedest to embrace him just as tightly as he did her.
To make him feel just as safe.
Just as protected.
She wanted him to know that, even though she was the person who’d left him out in the cold, she’d never again dream of denying him the warm blanket of her arms.
She could only pray, as he buried his head in her curls, filling the room with the heavy breaths of his slumber, that he never again deny her the warm blanket of his arms either.
23
Gage tried to take another bite of his pasta, but his throat closed up before he could finish bringing the fork to his lips. He dropped it onto his plate, the clanking rising into the cool night air as he lifted his eyes to his mother.
Yearn (Revenge Book 4) Page 18