Officer Evans…
“Holy shit!” Bleu cried out, dropping her bags and pointing like the frigging idiot she was at Officer Evans. Officer Evans. The man who saved her life. The man who had held his hands against her head as she was bleeding and screaming like the drugged-up maniac she’d been.
“Bleu!” Dr. Michaels scolded, pushing her finger down and out of Officer Evans’s face. OK, the woman may be annoyingly perfect but she did appreciate that gesture.
Bleu’s heart pounded. Out of all the people who helped her through rehab, who helped her get her act together to become a better person, there was one person she had never been able to personally thank for what he had done for her. What he ended up sacrificing, which was clearly right in front of her. She had run into the damn wheelchair for Christ’s sake.
“Officer Evans,” she whispered, her knees giving way from shock. Hell she would prostrate herself in front of the man if he would just hear what she had to say for once. “Please, I’m sorry for bumping into you the way I did but I can’t say I regret it—”
He held his hand up, silencing her. His face a mask so cold she felt her stomach acid freeze. So different from the kindhearted man she’d joked with a moment ago. “Ms. Leroux,” he began, clearly recognizing her now, or rather recognizing her from the horrific and telling scars on her ears. That’s why he had frozen and stared like she was an alien. He’d recognized her. “There is nothing you need to say to me right now. What’s done is done. Let the past rest.” He nodded at Dr. Michaels and turned his chair toward the wheelchair exit, pushing himself away from her. Denying her once again. “Colt, when you’re done come meet me at the car,” he called back.
“Dad!” Colt called, running after his father, clearly forgetting she existed, bags strewn about the floor, and after a quick check, yup, cat food rolling around again. She ran her fingers through her hair with a groan and began gathering up her shit once more.
“What was up with that, Bleu?” Dr. Michaels asked, kneeling down to help her.
“Don’t worry about it. Just the past, I guess.” She took the bags, cat food secured, and began to walk in the opposite direction of Officer Evans. She didn’t think the man would want to run into her again. She could exit on the other side of the building. It wasn’t such a hassle to walk a few extra blocks to her apartment. She would walk to the ends of the earth for the police officer who lost the ability to walk because she had been too drugged up to get over her shit.
“Take care of yourself, Bleu!” Dr. Michaels called after her, being neighborly. And nice. And perfect. She was infuriating.
She made it past the back entrance and was almost to the sidewalk when she heard her name being called by a masculine voice that sent shivers down her spine.
“Ms. Leroux!” She turned to see the golden God running toward her, cold puffs of hair blowing around his face from his mouth as he repeated her name. “Ms. Leroux, wait.”
“Slow down, guy,” she said, forcing a smile. “Sorry about that with your dad…the pointing and cursing. It was rude.”
Colt hesitated before asking, “How do you two know each other?”
She sighed, adjusting the bags on her shoulder. “It’s a long story that I’m surprised he never told you.”
“Why don’t you tell me? I’ve never seen my father shut down that way before. Especially in response to a pretty woman.”
“Then why would you want to talk to the one woman that makes him respond that way?” she joked, needing this conversation to be over. “Clearly I’m an awful person and you should hate me,” she said with maybe a touch too much sarcasm.
The corners of his mouth tilted up ever so slightly and she could have sworn a choir of angels had begun to sing in the background. “I don’t want to hate you and I don’t think I ever could. Especially with all that blue hair. You’re just too captivating to hate.”
“Well, that’s good,” she said, feeling trapped in the endless depths of his eyes. “I don’t want anybody to hate me.”
“Here.” He dug into his wallet and pulled out a card with a name and number on it. “Please call me. I’d like to talk to you some more. We can talk about my dad or we can talk about something else. It doesn’t matter, just give me a call. Please.”
“Talk about something else? You’re not curious about why your dad, who seems like a generally agreeable person, shut down after figuring out who I am?” And man, didn’t that just stick in her craw like a popcorn kernel getting stuck between her teeth.
“Of course I’m curious, but I feel there’s more to this than meets the eye.”
“Is the game afoot, Sherlock?” She joked, unable to withhold her geeky self.
“Trust me,” he chuckled. “I know my dad. Just call me and we’ll talk about it some more.” He took her hand and placed the card in her palm. His fingers were large and masculine in a way that made her toes curl and goose bumps pop on her skin.
“I have work tonight till midnight but would you want to meet up after? I know it’s late but I’m sort of a night owl. Here’s my card.” Bleu fished through her backpack for the cards she had designed herself. Much more colorful and energetic than the professional-looking white-card with black print square he’d given her. She was embarrassed by the exuberance of her card. She wanted to give herself a smack. A damn business card was embarrassing her? What the hell was wrong with her? She took a pen out and wrote the name of a new diner near her shop she’d been wanting to try.
He examined the card after taking it. “Leroux,” he said, sounding out her last name correctly, with the silent x. “Tattoo artist, huh? What, did you give him a bad tattoo or something?”
“I wasn’t always a tattoo artist.” She shrugged and placed the backpack over her shoulder again. “Meet me at that diner at midnight?”
“Sure, but why don’t we go to a bar? We can get a drink, drown our sorrows.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. He looked like a dork…and she loved every second of it.
“I–I don’t drink alcohol. Bars aren’t my favorite places to be.” She saw his smile falter and wanted to curse herself for the awkwardness she’d caused. “How about coffee? I hear that diner has out-of-this-world burgers.”
“OK, that works. I’ll meet you there at midnight.”
“Thank you for doing this, for giving me the chance to explain.”
“My reasons aren’t nearly so honorable.” He grinned, putting the card in his pants pocket. The heat in his eyes and sheer seductive quality to his smile made that statement far dirtier than it should have been. “See you later.”
“See ya.”
Chapter 3
Alexis flipped his perfectly seasoned, juicy, medium-rare bison burger on the grill he’d designed himself. He loved burgers. He loved cooking burgers on a line. He loved cooking burgers on a line in a brand new diner he just opened four months ago that was fast becoming a local staple in the community. He was so happy today. He was happy even though it was just after midnight and the kitchen was slightly in the weeds due to the mass of tickets that were coming in. If they kept going at this rate, they were gonna have a wait on their hands. It. Was. Awesome.
“Alex,” Pete, one of his many cousins and back-of-house manager, called from the end of the line. He looked over, putting the spatula on its hook near the grill. Alex’s attention was soon grabbed by the sniffling young woman with him. She had short, straight black hair that if grown out longer would curl on the ends. She’d been working as a hostess since he opened and he trusted no one more with seating during these kinds of rushes. For her to be back here during a wait meant something was definitely off.
“What’s up, Daniela?” he asked, wiping his hands on a dish towel as he walked over. The closer he got, the more distraught she looked.
“Tell me, kid.” He pulled her from the hot kitchen and into his office, calling over his shoulder, “Mac, take over.”
“Th–th–th–there—” she stuttered, tears beginning to stream down her fac
e, causing her dark eyeliner to run.
“Whoa whoa. Take a deep breath, kid.” He grabbed a cold bottle of water from the mini-fridge he kept in the office and uncapped it for her. She took a few swigs and sloppily wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
Taking a deep breath, she tried again. “My asshole ex is out f–front and he won’t leave me alone. I’m so sorry, Alex. I know it’s unprofessional to b–bring this issue to you.”
“No, kid. I’m really glad you told me. I appreciate your trust. There isn’t anything you can’t come to me about, you understand? Your mother would kill me otherwise.” He winked at her, gave her a peck on the cheek and a strong, but quick, hug. If some shithead was harassing this girl in his own damn diner, he would be all too happy to string the idiot up himself. “We’re a family here. Families take care of each other, got that?”
“Th–thanks, Alex.” She nodded, taking another wobbly breath and wiping her eyes on her sleeve.
He smiled and moved to the door after another hug, reinforcing his family mantra. “Take a few minutes and by the time you come back out he’ll be gone. I swear. What’s his name?”
“Brett. He’s the scrawny redhead in the Abercrombie sweater.” Of course he was.
“OK. Wash your hands before you touch the food.”
“Ugh. Alex!” She rolled her eyes at him but the color in her cheeks was already returning and there was a hint of a smile on her lips.
His own grin was wiped from his face as he walked back into the kitchen. He told one of the expediters to make sure Daniela didn’t come back out into the dining room until he got rid of the asshole and to bring her some of her favorite chocolate mousse pie. Then with swift steps he strolled out of the kitchen, ready to kick some punk ass for making his cousin’s daughter cry, and ruined his tough-guy stride by walking straight into a customer.
He looked up and into the most arresting pale green eyes he’d ever seen. The color was pure as Heisenberg-grade meth, almost as if the color had been poured from a Brita filter. He stared at the man’s eyes for a few seconds, jaw open and speechless. He just couldn’t seem to form the words to tell the guy to move aside and deal with Daniela’s Abercrombie-wearing douche bag.
As he took in more than just the eyes, recognition clicked in his brain. He knew this guy. Not by name but by face only. They shopped at the same grocery store. At the same time…every week. It was the only time Alex could shop for himself and apparently the same went for this guy. After a few weeks they had both picked up on the fact and usually had a cordial smile or wave for the other. Alex had almost begun to look for the guy. He’d been contemplating on asking the guy for a drink since they both had nothing better to do late Saturday nights. Until he realized how bizarre that sounded in his head, like he was going to ask him on a date. Nope. Alex was straight. Not a date, just a drink for some late-night grocery store shoppers.
“Shit, man, I’m sorry,” the grocery store guy said in a rush. “I thought the bathroom was this way, which clearly it’s not since you are wearing an apron and that is a kitchen behind you.” He had his hands on Alexis’s shoulders to steady him after pretty much shoving him into the wall. They were large, like his own, and the thumb of his right hand was resting on his collarbone.
The man seemed to be waiting for a response so Alex decided words would be good at this point in time. He just couldn’t find any. The man continued. “Uh…you must have been going pretty fast since I feel like I’ve been pile-drived.”
“Sorry, can’t help it.” Alex finally spewed out, feeling heat burn his cheeks in a blush. What was wrong with him? “I’ve been told I walk with my head up my ass.”
Grocery store man laughed. “That sounds like something a mother or a wife would say.”
“Ha. Aunt actually. I’m not married.” Why did he say that? Who cared if he was married? “Anyway, sorry I almost knocked you over. Um, I need to—” He gestured into the dining room.
“Oh! Right. Again, sorry.” The man finally let go of his shoulders and backed up, sticking his hands into his pockets.
“Bathrooms are over there, by the way.”
“Yeah.” He waited for a beat and then looked at Alexis with clear-eyed purpose. “Nice to see you out of the grocery store.” He grinned with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and moved off to find the restroom.
Alexis shook his head with a smile, making a mental note to find the guy in the restaurant later. He continued his stroll into the dining room. The space was perfect. At least his idea of perfect. It was designed to be simple, modern, and cozy. Not cluttered with kitschy memorabilia like I Love Lucy photos or random carousel unicorns plastered between booths. It was uncomplicated with dark wood tables and checked cloth paper napkins, almost giving it a Southern-barbeque feel. He loved this place. It was his second home.
He came up to the hostess stand and found the most peculiar sight. A petite woman with striking blue and teal curly hair was talking with Brett, the Abercrombie douche bag. It seemed she was trying to convince him to leave and he was using his height to try to intimidate her.
“I’m just gonna talk to my girlfriend and then I’ll go,” Brett stated in a heavy Staten-Island Italian accent. “In fact, I’m sure she’ll wanna come with me.” He crossed his arms in a hilarious display of grandstanding.
The blue-haired woman, who must have been in her midtwenties, had her leather-jacket-clad arms propped on her hips like Peter Pan, and gave him the gimlet eye right back. “Kid, you yelled your face off at her in front of her customers. I doubt she’ll want to talk to you again. You should leave before you upset more of these good people.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about these people. I’m goin’ back there to get my bitch—”
Having heard enough, Alexis promptly grabbed the kid by the back of his collar and beltless jeans and dragged him out the door. He was vaguely aware of the clapping going on behind him. The kid was scrambling and kicking like a pissed-off alley cat, but Alexis didn’t let him go. Instead, he slammed him on the side of a car that was so tacky and poorly parked it could have only been the douche bag’s. If not, he would pay for any damage done to the car—like blood splatter.
“Brett, I presume?” Alex asked, keeping him immobile by leaning his entire six feet and three inches of lean body against the kid. “Shh shh, no it’s better if you don’t talk,” he said when it looked like Brett was about to say something idiotic that would have surely made Alex want to punch him even more. He had anger issues, but working them out on a kid who was barely out of his teens was not the key to dealing with them.
“If I hear or see that you’ve been anywhere near Daniela I will personally lay you up for a month, kid. If she even thinks that you’ve been bugging her or talking about her to her friends, even talking about her to people she doesn’t know, I will not only lay you up, I will fuck you up so good you won’t be able to move your jaw to mouth off at your mother, let alone pretty girls. The way to a lady’s heart is not through debasement and verbal abuse, got it?” He backed off a bit and left the poor kid plastered to the side of the car. “Am I clear?”
The kid nodded.
“Don’t come back,” Alexis said, gesturing to get in the car. He waited in the parking lot until Brett drove away. He wondered what Daniela saw in the idiot and tried to decide whether it would be out of bounds for him to talk to her mother about the incident and her daughter’s awful taste in men.
He loved his cousin more than life, she was one of his favorites, but she also had terrible taste in men. Like in the case of her first, second, and third husbands. She was on number four now. Like mother like daughter.
There were skid marks on the pavement where the kid had driven out of the parking lot. Alexis didn’t like being a macho asshole. He grew up knowing all too well the terror of being helpless to an adult and didn’t want that to be his legacy here. However, the kid was indeed a douche and needed to be disciplined to a certain degree.
Alexis breathed the cold n
ight air in, taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of his sweat cooling on his skin. He loved the kitchen, but it could become stifling, no matter how much he thrived on the heat and steam of well-cooked food. Taking a break every now and then was refreshing, even if just for a moment.
Thinking of his beloved diner kicked his ass into gear, made him remember that they had been in the weeds and behind on ticket times when he came out to defend Daniela’s honor. He snorted at his behavior and took one last deep breath before turning around to head back in.
The sight before him stopped him dead in his tracks. The grocery man, with his clear, sea-foam green eyes, tight blue crewneck sweater and dark blue jeans, made his heart jump into his throat. The effect was amplified as his eyes caught sight of the blue-haired pixie woman standing right next to him, tugging her leather jacket against her curves to protect against the cold. Her hair was blowing in the wind and the curls looked like streams of blue magic swirling around her body.
The looks on their faces were guarded yet curious with a hint of mischief flickering in grocery man’s eyes. His full lips were curled into a smirk as he waited for Alexis to stop staring at them and say something. Alexis was trying to form words, really he was. He just couldn’t seem to stop staring at the way these two seemed to fit together to make something so sexy. Alexis couldn’t help but admit he was feeling lust toward a man. If he was truly being honest with himself, it was a lust he had always felt, ever since he had first laid eyes on the guy in the grocery mart.
Maybe he should just go home. It’d been a long night and the heat of the kitchen combined with the effort it took to suppress his anger at Brett, had him going a little lightheaded. This wasn’t desire, this was nausea. Fucking pathetic. He really needed to get out of there.
“Uh, sorry for the disturbance, folks. You can go back to enjoying your meal.”
The woman finally smiled, making his stomach clench even harder, and played with the ends of her long hair, attempting to corral it into a braid. “Oh we haven’t been seated yet. I just came out to make sure you weren’t going to clobber the kid.”
A Different Kind of Perfect (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 3