Knocking Boots (Sexy Standalone)

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Knocking Boots (Sexy Standalone) Page 28

by Willow Winters


  I follow Slade and the redheaded waitress through the diner, looking at the sagging blue plastic seats and chipped white laminate tables. The second we walked out of my bakery, I knew this was a mistake.

  To go on a date with Slade after letting Hunter hold me close, kiss me so thoroughly…

  Technically, it wasn’t wrong or slutty, but it kind of felt that way. Especially with Slade putting his hands all over me and wrapping his arm around my waist. I’m trying not to be a bitch, but I don’t like it.

  I sigh silently as Slade examines several booths before choosing one, totally ignoring the waitress. I realize I’m going to have to tell Slade I don’t want to date him, as soon as I find out whether or not I get the loan. Which better happen… like now.

  “Which one do you want?” Slade asks, frowning at the tables.

  “Doesn’t matter,” I say, crossing my arms. It’s a booth. All the tables are flat, so I don’t give a fuck.

  He looks at me and sees how impatient I am, so he relents. “Alright. How about this one?”

  “Fine,” I say, choosing a side of the table and sitting down. I toss my purse down next to me onto the booth.

  “Great,” he says, scootching into my side of the table. “Move over, will you?”

  I picture a gleaming new oven as I move over to accommodate him. Is it worth it? I wonder.

  “Here you go!” the waitress says, handing us menus. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  Before I can open my mouth, Slade cuts in.

  “She’ll have a diet soda, and I’ll have coffee,” he says.

  I frown as the waitress skips off to put the order in. As if he didn't really just order for me. My mouth opens and closes, with nothing coming out for a moment. I close my eyes and calm myself down. I’m just worked up, that’s all this is.

  “I hate diet soda,” I inform him. “It tastes like plastic.”

  “Well, I think it’s time you start expanding your palate a little,” he says, looking at the menu. “After all, you won’t be thin forever. My father says self-maintenance is best done before there’s an issue.”

  I scowl down at my menu. I’m a little surprised, but not as much as I should be. I opt to say nothing, since his comment is so offhanded, but inside I’ve gone from being blasé to being downright pissed.

  Slade seems oblivious. He launches into a long, boring story about a meeting he had at the bank with an awkward client. It’s only when he’s wrapping the story up because the waitress is returning with our drinks, that I realize he just told me about declining someone’s loan. About how fun it was for him, how funny it was.

  I glance at him, flustered.

  “A coffee for you, and a diet soda for the lady,” the redhead says.

  “Thanks,” I mumble. “Actually, could I just get a water?”

  Slade’s look is approving, which makes me want to order ten milkshakes, but I stay mum.

  New oven. New oven, I remind myself. You can do it.

  “Sure thing! Do you guys know what you want to order?” the waitress asks, pulling out a pad of paper and a pen.

  I expect Slade to allow me to order first, but he doesn’t. Instead, he orders for me.

  “She’ll have the house salad, no croutons, dressing on the side,” he says. “And I’ll have a BLT with fries.”

  The waitress writes everything down, despite the fact that my jaw is hanging open with shock. I’m a human, not a fucking rabbit.

  “Anything else?” she asks, barely looking up.

  “I—” I say, but Slade cuts me off.

  “No thanks,” he says, grabbing the menu out of my hands and stacking it with the other one.

  “I’ll have that right out for you,” the redhead says, blushing when she makes eye contact with Slade. She bobs him a curtsy as she scoops up the menus. “Sir.”

  As soon as she’s gone, I turn to Slade.

  “You don’t order for me,” I say, keeping my words measured. “Ever.”

  “Oh, come on,” he says, waving his hand. “I ordered you what my father gets for my mother. It’s a gesture.”

  I stare at him, befuddled. He honestly thinks I want him to choose my food for me? The part about his parents doesn’t escape me, either.

  He thinks this is getting serious, I realize. This is normal behavior for him.

  Slade immediately changes the story, telling me instead all of the things he’s heard about the young woman who’s waiting on us. I look at him blankly.

  There’s no way he can think that I’m interested in this, right? This just reminds me that I’m the subject of their gossip when I’m not looking. At that thought, I’m done. I don’t give a fuck if my life is ruined over not getting this damn loan. I. Am. Done.

  “Can I get out?” I blurt.

  Slade looks a little surprised that I interrupted him in the middle of a sentence. How rude of me.

  “Uh… okay,” he says, disgruntled.

  He makes a show of folding his napkin and putting it on the table, then sliding out of the booth. I get out of the booth, rummaging around in my purse. I refuse to owe him anything, even if he promised to pay for the meal.

  “Here,” I say, offering him a twenty. “To cover my meal.”

  I turn away and start to leave, but he stops me, his hand banding around my forearm. He jerks me so that I’m off balance when I look back at him. The pinch hurts my arm a bit, and my hand instinctively flies to his to get him off of me.

  “Sit. Down.” His words are hissed.

  “No,” I say, tugging on my arm to free myself.

  He doesn’t let go, though. He draws me closer, his eyes burning into mine.

  “I said sit down,” he says. “There’s no reason to cause a scene.”

  “Stop it, Slade,” I say, my voice gone to gravel. “Let me go.”

  A furious look comes over his face. “Outside, now.”

  He starts dragging me toward the exit by the arm, oblivious to the fact that the waitress is staring at him with something like horror.

  He’s squeezing so hard that it hurts, so hard that my arm goes a little numb. It feels like a bruising hold and my heartbeat speeds up, hating that he won’t let me go.

  “Now!” he growls, giving me a hard shake.

  I stop resisting, nearly paralyzed with shock and fear. Slade manages to pull me outside as my blood heats and I try to wrap my head around what’s going on. A sea-change has come over him as he yanks me around the side of the building, away from prying eyes.

  He’s red in the face, sweating, and he doesn’t mind getting in my face. So close that his hot breath hits me, and makes my neck arch away from him.

  “Where do you think you’re gonna go, huh?” he says, pushing me against the building. My back hits the cold brick wall and I gasp. “Do you think there’s somewhere you can go that I don’t control? Somewhere you can run around and be a slut, embarrass me?”

  “Slade—” I try to speak, barely managing to get his name out of my mouth.

  “You shut up. You’re good enough to look at, and you have childbearing hips,” he says, releasing my arm to grab my hips. “And my father says you pass muster. So I’m going to train you, teach you how to be a wife.”

  I open my mouth again to protest, but he kisses me roughly, covering my mouth with his and shoving his tongue down my throat. His hands tear at my blouse, and I’m afraid that he’ll rip it. I push my hands against his shoulders, trying to push him away, but he only moves in closer, as if to show me how weak I am.

  “St-” I move my face away from his to tell him no, but he grips my jaw and crushes his lips against mine.

  I’m afraid he’ll do more than that, actually. I struggle, but it only seems to excite him. I try to push him away, but I’m too weak. I try to scream, but the sounds are muffled by his mouth on mine. My breathing comes in frantic pants, and my heart beats so hard it hurts. One of his hands snakes down between us, intent on getting up my skirt.

  I don’t know what h
appens, exactly, but that’s some kind of trigger. Just before he can touch my panties, I shove him back with all my weight. He laughs and comes at me again, but this time I’m ready for him.

  I knee him in the balls as hard as I can, right between the legs.

  His face would be comical if I wasn’t so panicked. I don’t stick around for him to recover, though.

  I turn toward the front of the building and run.

  Chapter 55

  Hunter

  “So you fucked it up,” Jared says matter-of-factly.

  I grip the bar top and groan with frustration. I look at him seated on the barstool to my right, waiting for the punch line. But there is none.

  I look at him straight faced as he brings the beer to his lips. “That’s not at all what I said.” He laughs into it and then takes a swig.

  The college game is on the TVs on the front wall, and I can hear the cheers from them in the background. There are a few guys in here; Casey and Sean I know, but there are a a few older guys I don’t. The retirees are watching the game, while Casey and Sean are in the back playing pool with someone else.

  I’ve spent a good forty minutes trying to explain to Jared what the hell’s going on with Vi, and all he keeps saying is that I fucked it up.

  “How did I fuck up?” I wish he’d just tell me. I don’t care what I’ve gotta do to make it right.

  “She didn’t forgive you,” he says, tilting his beer and taking another swig.

  “Yeah, I know that, but how the fuck is that my fault?”

  He looks at me with a straight face. “The first thing you should know is that it’s always your fault.”

  Sean’s behind us and he lets out a small grunt of a laugh. I turn to look at him, and he’s leaning against the wall holding the pool stick and nodding his head as he watches Casey take another shot.

  “Okay,” I say and try to contain my anger. I set my beer down. “So how do I make her forgive me?” 'Cause that’s what I really want. That’s my end game. They can joke about me fucking up all they want as long as they give me a game plan on how to win her back.

  Jared shrugs.

  “I don’t know, man.” He tosses his empty beer behind the bar and into an oversized trash can. He makes the shot, but the old bartender looks up and glares at him. Jared raises his hands in defeat, but the smirk on his face doesn’t dim.

  “I think she just needs time,” he finally says.

  “She’s had years to forgive me.” I run my hands through my hair in frustration. “How long can she possibly stay mad?”

  “No,” he says with a hard edge. “You just came back.” He stares at me with his brows furrowed. “She’s only just finding out how you really feel.”

  I groan in frustration and lay my head on the bar.

  “I know. But I’m here now.”

  I know I could make everything right, but she’s not giving me a chance. I sigh, feeling defeated. I want my Vi back. I don’t want her to stay mad at me forever. I want her to want me again.

  “Give the girl some time,” the bartender says. I think I heard one of the other guys call him Ralph earlier. He’s old and has a wedding band on his ring finger. I make a point to take advice from people who have what I want. Maybe I do just need to give her time. Ralph opens another bottle and sets it down in front of me. I pass him my empty one and nod my head.

  But damn, I don’t want to give her time. I want her now.

  The cold beer feels good going down. I guess a little time won’t hurt anything. I can get my shit together, and be a man worth having. I can become the man who belongs next to her.

  “How long?” I ask with impatience.

  I lean back on the barstool so the front feet leave the ground, and I’m balancing with my boots pushing against the bar.

  The guys behind me start laughing again, and then someone scores on the TV. The guy on the other end of the bar hollers out and salutes the bartender with his beer before taking a long drink. The bartender looks at the TV with disdain, shaking his head.

  “I don’t know why I make bets with you, Earl,” Ralph mutters while keeping his eyes on the game.

  “Uh, Hunter. Ain’t that your girl out there?” Casey asks, looking out the window with his pool stick in his hand.

  I snap my weight forward, so I don’t fall, and I go over to the window.

  I squint and spot Vi running. What the fuck is she doing?

  She’s running down the empty sidewalk. It’s hard to make her out in between the lamp posts.

  All the stores are closed except for the bar and a few restaurants down the street. But as soon as she passes under the bright light, I know it’s her. Her blouse is pulled out of her waist, and her hair looks disheveled. What the fuck?

  My heart pounds in my chest.

  Adrenaline pumps in my blood as I take off out of the bar. I push the door open so hard it smacks into the brick building with a loud crack. I don’t care though.

  “Vi!” I call out for her as I take off in her direction.

  She sees me, and it spurs her onward, toward me. Tears are streaming down her face.

  She’s breathing heavy. She doesn’t stop for one second to come right into my open arms.

  She takes in a ragged breath and buries her head in my chest. I wish I could enjoy the fact that she’s finding comfort in my embrace, that I happened to be here at the right time and place, but something’s wrong. Something upset her and made her afraid.

  I hear Jared come up behind me. “Is she alright?” he asks.

  A few other guys are behind him, wondering what the hell is going on. They’re all looking at her, and she’s just trying to hide in my arms.

  “Vi, what’s wrong?” I ask her softly, my lips brushing against her hair.

  She doesn’t answer me, but she looks up. She goes stiff in my arms as she sees the guys staring at her.

  Jared comes a little closer and takes a look at her.

  “You alright?” he asks.

  A few other people have gathered across the street from the pizza shop. My anxiety spikes, seeing how everyone’s coming out to see what’s going on.

  “Talk to me,” I tell her.

  Vi seems more settled and she pulls away, realizing that I’m holding her. She takes a few steps back and hugs herself.

  She looks around, and her face shows the pain she’s in. She doesn’t want people seeing her like this, and I get that. But she needs to tell me what the hell happened.

  She looks a bit cold so I take my jacket off and try to give it to her, but she doesn’t take it. She shakes her head and sniffles a bit, wiping under her eyes.

  “I’m fine,” she says weakly.

  She’s not fine, she’s anything but fine. I open my mouth to tell her that, but then I see that fucker Slade jogging up the street.

  He stops when he sees us, but I can make out enough. His disheveled appearance and pissed off expression tell me what I need to know.

  I know he hurt her. And that’s all I need to know. I’m about to make this asshole pay for what he did.

  I wrap my coat around Vi, ignoring her protests. I look back at Jared as I take a step around her and head to Slade.

  “Watch her,” I tell him.

  I take a final look at Violet as she turns and sees what’s about to happen.

  “Hunter, no!” she yells out weakly and reaches for me, but that’s not gonna work.

  No one’s gonna hurt my girl and get away with it.

  Chapter 56

  Violet

  Hunter throws his jacket around my shoulders, and it’s only then that I realize I’m trembling. I don’t know if it’s because it’s so cold, or if it's because I’m so emotionally taxed. I try to tell him I don’t need it, even though the warmth of his jacket feels soothing on my shoulders, but then I look at Hunter, and his eyes aren’t on me at all and the words stall in my throat.

  He’s looking past me. I turn and see Slade, slowing his steps and looking pissed as hell. My heart ha
mmers faster and I grip onto Hunter’s arm, but he pulls away from me and refuses to listen.

  “Hunter, don’t,” I say, taking a few steps to keep up with him.

  “Watch her,” Hunter orders someone behind me and I try grabbing him again, but it’s too late.

  I get a flash of intuition when I see Hunter look at Slade, and I know that they’re going to fight. There’s no stopping this. I take in a ragged breath as Jared stops me from running after Hunter. His arms wrap around me, and I slap him away. I can’t tear my eyes away from Hunter. I can hardly breathe. I don’t want this. I don’t want him to fight over me.

  Slade’s stopped walking, and he yells something at Hunter that I can’t quite make out.

  “Hunter, no!” I scream, but he doesn’t listen.

  Jared’s holding me loosely and I shove him once, and that’s all it takes. He releases me but as soon as I take a step closer, intent on keeping the two of them apart, Jared grabs my hand.

  “Violet, don’t get yourself in the middle.” His voice is low and apologetic.

  Hunter charges at Slade, a roar escaping his throat. I stare after Hunter, and witness Slade square off in preparation. This isn’t good.

  “Hunter!” I yell, but Hunter keeps going, barreling into Slade.

  Hunter and Slade are already throwing punches at each other, frenzied.

  I look around at the people who are starting to gather. I realize that most of the watchers are oscillating between watching the fight and looking to see my reaction.

  It reminds me of four years ago; the gossip then was about what I had done wrong, why I hadn’t gotten Hunter to propose to me, how I had to live in shame after he left.

  It’s unfair, how it’s always the woman’s fault.

  If he would just listen to me. I pull away from Jared, but make no move to go to Hunter.

  I feel myself turning red, feel my neck growing hot. This is so embarrassing.

  Damn them all. They’re soaking up gossip, material they'll use to talk down to me. I bite my lip, moving toward Hunter and Slade. I just want them to stop fighting, but no one’s stepping in to break it up.

 

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