So when I entered the café, it took me a second to realize that the harried, overstressed looking blonde waitress who greeted me with a brief little nod, her eyes not fully meeting mine, was the same woman.
"Ellen?" I gasped out in surprise, and her head whipped around. Unfortunately, she was holding a tray of plates, and the sudden motion nearly sent everything toppling to the floor in a shower of crockery. I darted forward and, despite the growing baby bump that seemed to get in my way and trip me up at the most inopportune times, managed to keep the tray of plates from tumbling to the floor.
"Tori!" She straightened back up, supporting the tray with her other hand. "Uh, what are you doing here?"
"I thought that I'd stop by..." I didn't want to explain right now that I needed to get out of the house and away from the ever-present short term temptation of Sebastian Stone. "But Ellen, what are you doing here?"
She opened her mouth to respond, but whatever she was about to say was cut off by a call from one of the tables. "Hey!" shouted out a man, looking irritated from where he sat in a booth. "What about our food, lady?"
To my amazement, Ellen flushed, her cheeks stained red as she closed her eyes. "Coming!" she shouted, taking a second before turning around. She shot me one last apologetic, embarrassed look, but didn't speak again as she hurried to deliver the food still balanced on her tray.
Not wanting to get in the way, I found an open table in the corner and lowered myself into a seat. Despite the café's rather shabby interior, matching its dirty and uncleaned exterior, it seemed to have a decent number of patrons. Most of them, however, wore looks of displeasure on their faces as they drummed fingers on the table or shook the ice cubes in their empty water glasses.
So Ellen worked here at River's Edge... that explained, I supposed, why she'd been so reluctant to tell me about this place. From the look of things, she seemed to have more on her plate than she could handle. I sat there for a few more minutes, but then I had to stand up. I couldn't bear watching Ellen run around in a desperate, doomed attempt to try and meet the needs of her two dozen tables of customers.
"Hi there," I greeted one of the tables, smiling as I hefted a water pitcher that I'd spotted off to one side. "I'm so sorry about the wait – can I offer you some refills?"
Two of the customers held out their glasses to me, but the third, a rather irritated looking man, just rattled his glass of ice cubes at me. "I had Diet Coke," he stated.
"Of course you did," I replied, keeping the syrupy smile on my face. "Let me get that for you."
I took the glass from his hands, scanning the back wall of the café. Hadn't I seen... yes, there was the soft drink machine. I refilled his glass, placing it back in front of him. He couldn't have fetched the drink himself?
Ellen seemed so busy that I made it almost a third of the way around the tables before she finally noticed my efforts. "Tori, what are you doing?" she hissed at me as she ducked past, carrying another tray of food.
"Helping you," I answered firmly. The pitcher of water was nearly empty; I suspected that I'd need to duck back into the kitchen to refill it. "Seriously, you're the only one working to help all these people? How do you make it through?"
"I don't, usually." Ellen flushed again. "Someone always gets mad and complains, not that it means anything. It's not like I'll ever get fired."
"Why not?"
Ellen, however, didn't stick around to answer my questions. A bell sounded from the window that opened into the kitchen, and she went dashing away to retrieve the next set of meals for the café's customers.
I used up the rest of the water in the pitcher, then turned to the doors that led into the kitchen. I ducked through, looking around for a sink. Ah, there it was, against the back wall. I headed over, holding the pitcher under the faucet as I looked around for a freezer where I could add some ice-
"Who are you?"
The unexpected inquiry made me jump. Thankfully, I kept the pitcher over the sink, as water sloshed out and splashed across the stainless steel interior. I turned around to find a short, rather pudgy middle-aged woman glaring at me, both hands planted firmly on her wide hips.
"I'm Tori," I answered instinctively, trying to keep a faltering smile from slipping off my face. "I'm one of Ellen's friends."
"And what are you doing back here? Her friends don't eat free, not considering the level of work that the girl puts in around here!"
"I'm not here to eat," I explained. "She looked really busy out there, so I'm helping her out." I hefted the pitcher of ice water in my hands, as if I needed to prove the truth to my words.
The woman shifted her frown briefly to the pitcher before moving it back to me. I saw her lips part – but then she paused, the annoyance on her face briefly replaced by ruefulness. "You know, it's not like the poor girl's customer service can get any worse, I suppose. Fool girl, head full of clouds. Fine. Don't spill on anyone."
"I won't," I began, but the stout woman had already turned away from me. Reaching up to adjust the hairnet that covered her short-cut blonde hair, she stepped in front of a hot grill, picking up a spatula and easily flipping a couple of sandwiches that sizzled on its shiny metal surface.
Well, okay then. I finished filling up the water pitcher and headed back out to try and make Ellen's job a little easier.
A couple hours later, the rush of customers had finally tapered off, and the last few people of the midday crowd were finishing their meals. I'd dropped back down into the table I'd originally selected, putting the pitcher of water down beside me. With a sigh, Ellen moved over to take the seat next to me. She dropped down heavily on the chair, her long (thin!) legs splaying out in front of her.
"So," I said, trying to carefully choose my words. "I didn't realize that you worked so close to where I'm living."
Ellen glanced over at me, paused for a second – and then blew out the contents of her puffed-out cheeks. "I know what you're not saying," she sighed. "And yeah, this job sucks – but I got to do it."
"Why?" I didn't know much about Ellen's financial situation, I thought with a minor pang of regret for never asking. She wore the same fancy clothes that I did at the parties, best that I could tell, and I assumed that she had her own source of money. A sugar daddy, most likely, even if I'd never met the guy.
"Family."
I frowned, not following – but before I could ask, the door to the kitchen opened as the short, squat woman from behind the stove came bursting out. "So," she called out, her eyes landing on Ellen. "Good thing that your friend was here, yes? Fewer complaints than usual! Or are you finally improving?"
Ellen stared back at the woman, her eyes defiant even as her cheeks flamed red. Once I saw the two of them glaring at each other, faces opposed and in profile, I finally made the connection. "You're her mom," I said out loud.
The older woman turned to look at me. Her eyebrows were bushier than Ellen's carefully sculpted brows, but the belligerent expression was the same. Her features had grown stronger with age, less delicate than Ellen's face, and she clearly didn't bother with any makeup. Little beads of sweat still stood out on her forehead, left there from her hours of standing in front of the stove and moving in the hot kitchen.
"That's right," she stated, although her expression didn't soften. "And who are you, then?"
"Tori – Victoria Lilly," I answered, suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious. Why should I be ashamed of telling this woman, practically a stranger, who I was? "I've known Ellen since high school."
"Really." Ellen's mom didn't look impressed. "Maybe you should have told her to stay in school, instead of dropping out to party."
"We didn't go to the same school." Why was I trying to defend myself? "I met her..." ...at a party, when both of us were drunk off our asses, both flirting with the same guy. "...at a social setting."
For a long second, the older woman just looked back at me. I felt like I was being measured, weighed, judged. Finally, just as I started to fear that she'd squash
me like a cockroach, she gave a short nod.
"Well, I didn't hear as many complaints from our lunch rush customers as usual, so I guess you must have managed to do something right," she allowed. "So if you want to come back tomorrow, help your friend out again, I wouldn't be opposed to it."
It wasn't the warmest invite I'd ever received, but strangely, it still felt more honest than some of the effusive encouragements I'd received at nightclubs and after-parties. "I think I'd like that," I said.
Ellen's mom, Mrs. Beckers, just gave me one last nod before retreating to the kitchen. Ellen, however, caught my hand as I stood up to walk back to the house.
"A little something as thanks," she said, pressing something crumpled into my hand.
I looked down at the handful of dollar bills. "What? Ellen, there's no need-"
"I wouldn't have gotten these tips if it wasn't for your help," she insisted. "Take it, and I'll cut you a share of tomorrow's, too. Oh, and Tori?"
"Yes?"
She smiled. "Thank you. Really."
I couldn't keep the smile fully off my face as I tucked the crumpled handful of bills into my pocket for the walk back.
Chapter Twelve
TORI
*
As soon as I walked back in through the front door, Seb burst up from where he'd been sitting in the living room. He rushed into the hall, his look of concern fading, but not totally disappearing, when he saw me.
"You're back!" he exclaimed. "Tori, where have you been? You've been gone for hours!"
I blinked, caught off guard by his concern. "I went over to that nearby café, River's Edge," I explained. "It turns out that Ellen works there, and her mom owns the place. I ended up helping her out for a bit."
For a second longer, Seb just looked at me, his face torn between anger and relief. I realized, in that moment, that he'd really been worried about me. That was unexpected, but strangely, also kindled a little flame inside my chest.
"Helping her out?" he repeated, after a second of considering my words. "Doing what?"
I shrugged. "Getting people more water, refills, all of that stuff. Just sort of helping out."
His frown deepened. "What, like a waitress?"
"Yes." I suddenly didn't like where this line of questioning was headed, so I stepped past him to go get a glass of water from the kitchen. Seb, however, followed after me. He clearly wasn't yet ready to let this go.
"Tori, if it's a problem of money," he began.
I spun around, raising a finger to point back at him. He pulled up short, as if that finger was the sharp end of a knife. "It's not money," I snapped, "it's boredom. Seb, I've spent the last couple of weeks cooped up here with you, with practically no space, no time to myself! I needed to get out of here."
"So I'm driving you crazy?"
A little part of me didn't want to offend him, but I had to tell the truth. "The truth? Yes! You're great, but do you really want to spend every waking second with me, for the next nine months until this baby is born? And then what are you going to do after that? Just keep on hanging around for the next eighteen years?"
Seb opened his mouth hotly to reply, but he paused before speaking. After a second, his expression shifted from anger towards slight bashfulness. "Okay, I guess I see what you mean. Maybe I haven't fully thought through my long-term plan."
"Understatement of the year, not that it should be surprising." I rolled my eyes. "And by the way, you can't tell me that you haven't also felt bored."
"I haven't felt bored."
"Liar." I stepped close to him, close enough so that I could prod him lightly in the chest with my upraised finger. "Come on, I've seen you going out of your mind with boredom."
"I'm not bored," he insisted, just digging his hole deeper. "I've still got a whole bunch more baby books to read."
"Yeah, that's why you haven't managed to pick one up for more than five minutes in the last two days," I countered. I looked up at him; now that I'd stepped closer, his height meant that I needed to tilt my head back. "And that's why you've been flirting more and more with me, too."
"Is because why?"
"Boredom," I repeated. "You're just flirting with me because you're bored, and I'm the only one around."
I still don't know how Seb managed to do it. He didn't move a single muscle, but his blue eyes suddenly burned with heat as he looked down at me. I suddenly found myself more aware of his muscles bulging beneath his shirt, his stance, with his weight resting slightly on his back foot as if ready to spring at his prey. He didn't even need to purse his lips; I found my eyes drawn to them, my mind betraying me as it wondered whether I could help pass some of the time by dallying with him...
"It's not boredom," he said softly, his eyes not leaving me. "Even before this change of our situation, we were always drawn to each other, Tori."
I realized that my finger still pressed lightly against his chest. I felt the thump of his heart through the thin fabric of his tee shirt. "Yeah, because you were rich and I was hot. And both of us were drunk. That's what drew us to each other."
"That's it?" He drifted slightly closer. I felt my finger bend, my hand instinctively splaying out to rest against him. "You don't think that there was anything deeper than simple attraction between us?"
Of course there wasn't. He was handsome and rich, and I had the good looks and loose morals to keep him interested. I ignored the little voice, echoing up from the back of my head, that had occasionally wished for more to develop between us. It wouldn't happen, I knew. Seb was destined to live the kind of life documented in tabloids, where he breezed through a never-ending line of supermodels and pageant queens, movie stars and heiresses and fashion moguls, a constant conga line dancing in and out of his bed. He'd never settle down, especially not with some random party girl who happened to keep his interest for a few parties.
Especially not once he managed to accidentally knock her up, ruining her looks and figure – the one thing she had going for her. No, I knew exactly how our situation would play out.
"No," I said to Sebastian Stone, even as the little voice in the back of my mind argued otherwise. "At least, I never felt anything more than lust towards you."
Up close, looking into his eyes, I thought that I saw them flicker for a second. Was that some unexpected emotion briefly dancing behind them? Whatever it was, it vanished in an instant, before I could identify it.
"Well, I suppose that I can work with lust," he murmured. "Because that definitely hasn't gone away."
"I'm sure it's on its way out," I tried. I ought to put some distance between the two of us. Take a step back, Tori. Unfortunately, my feet didn't appear inclined to take the hint. "Or it will be in a few more weeks, as I keep packing on the pounds."
"Why do you keep on saying that?" He tilted his head slightly to one side, and I saw the sparkle of intelligence in his eyes. Damn. I kept on forgetting that Seb wasn't drunk at the moment, which meant he was even quicker on the uptake than usual. No man that sexy should be so smart. "You're trying to push me away, but you aren't saying that you don't find me attractive."
How could I ever not find him attractive, with his broad shoulders, strong features, that intensity that burned even under the dark hair he let fall carelessly across his forehead and in front of his eyes? "I don't find you attractive," I forced my lips to push out.
"Liar."
And suddenly, he'd crossed the remaining distance between the two of us. His arms slipped around me, sinking down to curl around my ass, grabbing handfuls and pulling me closer to him. My chest landed against his, and I felt the thumping of his heart – or was that my own, pounding away like a panicked rabbit, trapped inside of my ribcage? He looked down at me, his lips quirking up into that familiar little smirk-
No, I corrected myself. This time, it wasn't the usual smirk. This was a real smile, balanced on both sides, warming up my face even as his body's warmth soaked into mine. I tried to catch my breath, tried to find the words to tell him that
this was a bad idea.
The words didn't seem to want to organize themselves into sentences inside of my head. I opened my mouth, only to close it again.
Even as one of his hands remained firmly wrapped around half of my ass, the other one gently, teasingly traced its way up my side. It slid along the line of my neck, making me draw in a shuddering breath, and then gently lifted the point of my chin so that my eyes met his.
"You don't find any of this attractive," he murmured as his eyes transfixed me.
Shake your head, Tori. Form the word "no". It's just a single syllable.
"Um," I managed to get out, my mind filled with a sudden wash of memories of all the times we'd been together. He never needed to spend so much time on seduction in the past, back when we came home drunk from the parties and needed to scramble into bed before one of us passed out.
I'd never thought that I wanted that seduction. Why prolong what we both knew would happen? But now, I found it strangely necessary, better even than us jumping right into bed without any sort of foreplay at all.
Not that I was going to jump into bed with Seb at all. I'd break this off in just a moment. I'd tell him that, while I was flattered by his words, we didn't need to keep doing this, not when he'd already promised to stick around and help with this baby. His support was all that I needed; he didn't need to do anything else to prove himself to me.
Yeah, I'll go along with that, no problem, muttered his mental voice inside my head.
I parted my lips again, intending to tell him all of this, but his lips moved across the last inch and found mine.
Oh. Okay, I'd tell him after this kiss.
Or maybe after another one or two of them. The hand of his that had been resting under my chin slipped lightly around my neck, drawing me in even as his other one grabbed on even more tightly to my ass to pull it up against him. I didn't need to use my imagination to feel him throbbing against my pelvis, the heat radiating out from between his legs, from his entire body as he pulled me close.
For Love of Freedom (Stone Brothers Book 3) Page 8