by London Casey
“What?”
“You’re available right now?”
“I guess…?”
“Then the job’s yours,” she said. “Get behind the counter. I have two rules you need to follow.”
“Which are?”
“Don’t fuck up…but if you do, tell me. And don’t steal from the register. I don’t have cameras. I don’t have a fancy safe. This is a small town. If someone even dared to rob this place, I have a baseball bat, and I’m not afraid to use it. And that includes employees.”
I nodded. “Okay. Have you ever needed to use the baseball bat?”
“Twice,” Donna said. Then she leaned forward and whispered, “On the same person.”
I didn’t ask anything else.
I hurried around the counter as I put the apron on.
Next thing I knew, I was at the register, taking orders.
Zayne walked to the register, his hands out, looking surprised.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Can I help you, sir?”
“You’re working now?” he asked.
“That I am.”
“How long?”
“No clue,” I said.
“Well, shoot me a text when you’re done and I’ll come get you.”
“I’ll figure it out. I’m fine, Zayne.”
“Right. I’m going to take off. I have a call to make. Some things to figure out.”
“Sure,” I said. He looked uneasy. I reached for him and smiled big. “Hey. Don’t forget to RSVP. And I prefer chicken over fish.”
Zayne laughed. “You’re something, Bella. I hope you know that.”
“She’s something,” Donna said. “And that something is my employee. So if you two would stop giving each other the puppy dog eyes…”
Zayne put his hands up. “Hey, hey, hey. Don’t get the bat out again, Donna.”
“Again?” I asked. I looked back at Donna. “You…”
“I don’t hit and tell,” Donna said.
With a sexy wink, Zayne left the coffee shop. I watched as he stood outside on the sidewalk. Holding his phone. Staring down at it. Looking worried. Confused. Unsure of something.
I stared for a little while until Donna put a hand to my back. “He’ll be there when you get done. Unless you want to set a new record and quit five minutes into your first shift.”
“I’m good,” I said. “Five minutes is the record?”
“If I’m honest, the current record is six.”
“Six minutes?”
“That’s right.”
“What happened?”
“She couldn’t stand the heat, so I got rid of her.”
“Six minutes…”
“Tick-tock,” Donna said. “Why don’t you come help me with the ovens. It’s best if you don’t look at the clock or worry about the baseball bat.”
“You got it,” I said.
And just like that, I had a job. In a new town. Like I was really starting a new life. Like it was so easy to do.
I stuck my hand into one of the ovens and burned my finger. I jumped back and yelped, letting out a few curses. There was something to be said about that… touch a hot oven and get burned.
It reminded me of Zayne.
Things were hot…for the wrong reasons…and someone was going to get burned.
Donna flipped the sign around to CLOSED and locked the door. She walked behind the counter and opened a small fridge, dug around, and brought out a bottle of scotch. She grabbed two coffee mugs and poured me and her a drink.
“To your first day,” she said.
“Do you do this every day?” I asked.
“Yup,” she said.
“Can I admit something?”
“Sure,” she said.
“I don’t even know the name of this place,” I said. I grabbed the mug. “I walked in here the other day just to have a place to be. I didn’t look at the sign. And now today…”
“You were distracted by Zayne,” she said.
“Well, yeah. Things with me and him…”
“It’s called Donna’s,” she said. “Original, I know. I never wanted this place, but it fell into my lap.”
“How so?”
“Well, let’s see. My husband at the time, a lawyer, mixed up his work phone, personal phone, and play phone. I realized he was sleeping with a string of women all over the country. I was a realtor at the time. Right before things went poof! and everything exploded. I kicked my husband out. I took as much of his money as I could. Around then, I saw this place was for sale. The owners decided to move to Florida and retire. The real estate bubble exploded, and I called it quits. Lost my husband. Lost my job. My career. My house. Lost everything. But I got this place. A person who knew nothing about coffee, baked goods, nothing. And here I am today.”
“Wow,” I said. “That’s… I’ll drink to that.”
We tapped mugs together, and I sipped the bitter scotch.
“So, what about you?” Donna asked. “Something tells me you have a story behind those pretty brown eyes. Especially if you have Zayne socializing.”
I laughed. “He really doesn’t get out, then?”
“No comment,” Donna said.
“Then I guess I have no comment, either.”
“Fair enough. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Do you have a schedule for me?”
“Nope. I’ll tell you when to be here. You just show up.”
“I can handle that,” I said.
Donna then punched at the register and took out some money. “Here. Your first paycheck.”
“No. I’m not taking that.”
“I insist.”
“Donna, I’m not taking that.”
“Look. I don’t do paperwork unless I have to. You’re not going to make six figures a year here. We both know that. So just take cash when I offer it and show up when I need you here.”
“Okay then.”
I took the money and stuck it into my pocket.
“I saw you writing the other day. That’s what you want to do?”
“Yeah. I’ve always wanted to be a writer.”
“Go after it.”
“I plan on it.”
“I’ll get you a key to this place,” Donna said. “You can come anytime you need. Make a cup of coffee and get comfortable.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. Just don’t touch the register.”
Donna winked and she downed the rest of her scotch.
I didn’t.
I waited for Donna to walk away and I dumped it.
I then went out back and realized I had no ride to Zayne’s.
Before I could text him, a fancy sports car pulled up. The windows were tinted pitch black. The engine growled angrily, and the driver’s window went down.
It was Donna.
“Need a ride?” she asked.
“Nice car,” I said.
“It was my husband’s. I figured I was good with this one, since I was sure he screwed women in the other’s because they had backseats. Plus, this one was his favorite and the most expensive.”
I smiled.
I liked Donna.
I liked Hundred Falls Valley.
I liked forgetting.
But my favorite part?
Going home to be with Zayne—whether this was a rebound, a fling, or something more, I liked it.
I hurried to sneak through the kitchen, my eyes on the bathroom.
“Hey, darlin’,” Zayne said as he walked from the living room, a beer in his hand.
“Stay back, I stink,” I blurted out.
“What?”
“Working there all day. I smell.”
“Smell…like coffee? Bread?”
“Grease,” I said. “I don’t feel…”
Then it hit me. Zayne was confused. Because if I went anywhere near Parker after my shift, he would tell me I smell. I would have to hurry and wash up. Shower. I’d have to put my diner clothes somewhere where he wouldn’t smell them.<
br />
So I stood there.
“Darlin’, what are you doing?” Zayne asked.
“I was going to take a shower,” I said. “So I don’t smell like the coffee shop.”
“Why the fuck would that matter?”
“I…”
Zayne gritted teeth. “Oh. Okay.” He then walked to me and touched my arms. “Darlin’, I don’t play those games. I love the way you smell right now.”
“Seriously? I smell like old coffee and fresh sweat.”
Zayne lowered his mouth down to my neck and squeezed my arms tighter. I gasped. He took a deep breath and growled. “You smell fucking delicious.” His lips grazed against my skin and I grabbed at his shirt.
Holy fuck…
Then he backed away a few inches. “Then again, if you must take a shower…”
“What?”
Zayne slipped his hand into mine. “I’ll join you.”
My jaw hit the floor and my feet forgot how to move. Zayne pulled and I started to stumble all the way to the bathroom. He opened the door and swung me inside. Then he slammed the door shut and locked it.
“I’m being held captive,” I said.
“Like you’re fighting it,” Zayne said in a commanding voice.
He turned the shower water on and went right for me again, pinning me against the sink. His lips touched mine. He grabbed the bottom of my shirt.
“You never have to worry about who you are around me,” he said as he lifted my shirt off. Then he came forward and kissed above my breasts. I felt his tongue flicker and I shivered with excitement. His hands touched my pants, thumbs hooking into both my pants and panties. “I don’t care how you smell after work. After sleep. After you eat. After sex…”
He grinned a devilish grin.
“I’m sorry,” I managed to whisper as he stripped me.
He crouched before me, taking off my shoes, my socks, my clothes.
“No need to apologize, darlin’,” he said. His hands ran up my legs and touched my hips. He kissed me, just above my sex, and inched downward.
His tongue cut between my legs, tasting me. I jumped to my toes and grabbed for the sink.
“Fuck,” I whimpered.
Zayne then pulled back and stood up. His hands reached around to the back of my bra and unsnapped it.
“I’m sorry that someone made you feel anything less than you are,” Zayne said. “I’m sorry I can’t answer all the questions going through your head right now about us. But for now, just forget about it. Just be in the moment.”
The way Zayne spoke, I wondered if he was secretly looking in the mirror and talking to himself. Something had happened on the phone, and he wasn’t talking to me about it. Then again, I was completely naked in front of him. His hands gently caressing me down to my breasts. Down to my hips again. He turned me and pushed me toward the shower.
“Now go clean up, you stink,” he said.
I glanced back at him. “Asshole.”
His hand cracked against my bare ass. “Yup.”
I put one foot into the shower and then paused. “I thought you said you were joining me.”
“I am,” he said.
He said nothing else.
So I got in the shower and felt the warm water pelt my body. My God, that feels so good. Nothing like that feeling of the water washing away the day. An insane day. A really long day, too.
I wet my hair and realized I had nothing. No shampoo. No soap. Nothing.
The shower curtain then opened and I let out a yell.
“You might need these,” Zayne said. He was still fully dressed. And he had my shampoo, conditioner, and soap in one hand.
He winked as I took them and shut the shower curtain.
I groaned to myself, wondering if and when he was going to join me.
I washed my hair and body and waited. I put my hands to the shower tiles and put my head down. I felt the water hitting my back and running down. It felt good. It felt so fucking good. Everything started to really hit me right then. The fact that Parker and Abby weren’t just a one-time thing. They were a for a while thing. It stung worse. I wondered how many times they both looked into my eyes and lied. How many times they were together, fucking each other, while I was on my hands and knees, scraping gum from under a table at a diner. Giving up my dream for Parker. Giving up myself. Losing myself. Forgetting who…
I felt hands touch me.
My body jumped.
I opened my eyes and saw feet next to mine. Big feet. Hair on them. Man feet.
His hands ran up my back to my shoulders. He squeezed for a second and then with just his fingertips, he slid back down. His right hand eased down to my ass. His left hand came around and traveled up until he cupped my left breast.
I groaned against his touch.
I felt his body touch mine. His lips against my back. His hand coming up from my ass, back up my body. His other hand releasing its hold on my breast and moving down. With one hand at my waist and the other at my shoulder, he pushed and pulled at me. I was bent over even more now.
I slowly turned my head so I could look at him. The man who saved me from being stuck on the side of the road…and saved me from so much more.
“Zayne,” I whispered.
“Bella,” he said, his voice growling.
Smoldering with sex. Making me melt in a way I never did before.
I reached back and felt him. I started at his stomach, where the tough edges of his stomach ended and where he became all man. My fingertips sliding against his thickness with ease. Slowly grabbing him at his full head, pulling at him, craving him to be inside me.
Zayne grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand from him. He leaned forward and down, his muscles against my back. He then put my hand to the wall, keep his grip on my wrist. Then he used his other hand to line himself up against me and gently, he thrust forward.
I cried out in the shower as the water ran.
Zayne fucked himself into me to the hilt and held himself there for a second.
He let go of my wrist and slid his hand down my arm and didn’t stop until he had a firm grip on my shoulder.
He pulled back and thrust forward…
This was the exact kind of shower I needed after a long day of work.
25
ZAYNE
I took her from the shower to my bed. We were both starving, but she fell asleep. That was no surprise. It had been a long fucking day. I had no idea what time she had been up when all hell broke loose.
I reached for her, touching her soft back. The smell of her skin was everything to me. That after-shower, after-sex smell colliding together. She would forever be in my sheets unless I washed them. And then I’d throw her right back into my bed…
I took my hand away from her and threw the covers off me. I grabbed my jeans and slid them on. I stood up and zipped them but didn’t button them.
Slowly, I opened the dresser drawer and got the invitation and the engagement ring.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
I couldn’t have been having thoughts about the next time when it came to Bella. Right? Shit. I didn’t want to trap her. I didn’t want her to bounce from one asshole guy to another. I’d never stomp on her heart the way the other guy did, but I would definitely end up hurting her, the way things were headed.
Plus, I hadn’t even told her about Miami yet. I hadn’t told anyone about that call, even after I took it and went to St. Skin. I walked around the tattoo shop as though I’d never be there again. I was there for a solid hour before Tate saw me and threatened to break my wrists. Then he saw the overflow in the front and told me to get to work. I did three tattoos and thought about Miami. It was exactly what I had wanted. To get down there, get established, and eventually open my own shop. I wanted to be near the beach, surrounded by beautiful women, and just get by.
I looked over my shoulder and saw Bella sleeping in my bed.
I looked at the invitation one more time.
The funny thing a
bout it…Steph sent it without an RSVP card. No choice for dinner. Nothing. So she probably sent it just to be a bitch. Just to get that last little jab into my heart. Which meant if and when we showed up, there would be no place for us to sit. No plates for food. Nothing.
It made me smile.
I put the invitation down and held only the ring in my hand.
I turned and saw Bella sleeping again.
I thought about the day I went for a ride and found her on the side of the road. Just seeing her sitting on the hood of her car did something to me. It suddenly changed me. When she turned her head and I saw the tears in her eyes. She didn’t try and hide the tears either. She just sat there, knees to her chest, in the middle of nowhere, her body language saying fuck this.
It got me. It got me hard. It got me fast. My mind raced and came up with the craziest idea of my life.
I held up the engagement ring. “The second craziest idea of my life.”
I walked around the bed and put the engagement ring on the nightstand next to her. I reached for her face, gently touching her still-wet hair.
I left the bedroom and poured myself a drink of whiskey and sat at the kitchen table. I just sat there in the dark. The only light was the glow from above the kitchen sink.
A sinking feeling hit my chest. All the shit that Steph put me through. The way I followed her like a hungry dog, desperate for a treat. I thought it was love. I thought it was loyalty. I thought it was me being a good man, a good guy to her. I met her parents, and they were stuck up and hated tattoos. They didn’t get what I did for a living and put the bug in her ear that I was no good. All that did was fuel me to spoil her even more. Fall deeper into her trap. Exactly what she wanted.
She broke my heart, faked a pregnancy, and then disappeared. She knew exactly when to call and when to come around. Right when I was about to completely forget about her. It was like clockwork. My phone would go off and there was Steph, trying to ease her way into my life.
I shut her down over and over. And I hadn’t heard from her until that wedding invitation showed up in a large white envelope with no return address on it. I thought it was junk mail at first. Then I opened it and saw the postcard-sized invitation. No choice for dinner. No option for a plus one. It was a tease. One more chance to fuck with my heart. One more way to…
“Hey, are you okay?”