by Harloe Rae
But this chick is full of surprises.
She raises her chin and says, “You’re pathetic, and I see straight through your bullshit. I’ve dealt with guys like you my entire life—dime a dozen playboys looking to score. Having a place to sit isn’t worth being ridiculed.”
I keep my face void of emotion but my blood is boiling. “Why are you still here then?”
“I have no idea.” She rests a palm on her forehead, looking bewildered and sexy as fuck. “I don’t want to surrender so easily, but just . . . forget it. You’re clearly used to getting what you want. I’d hate to be another tally in your win column.”
I chuckle, the sound dark like a rumble. “No truer words. I’m a fucking winner. Since you’re not interested in my cocky bullshit, let’s make a deal. I was here first so go find someone else to harass.”
A dimple dents her cheek as she smiles, but the expression looks weak. The fire in her eyes extinguishes as she mutters, “A real man wouldn’t hesitate before offering an empty seat to a lady. My mistake.”
I’m the one forcing her away, but for some messed up reason, the distress creasing her face is a punch to the gut. So, I offer some parting words for her to remember me by.
“I never claimed to be a gentleman, Princess.”
NEWBIE
Raven
I GIVE THE arrogant asshole a final glare, but there’s no heat behind it. As I turn away from the bar, my shoulders sag, and all the adrenaline pours from my limbs. It’s usually difficult to get my feathers ruffled, but that guy managed to push all my buttons in a few short minutes.
But damn, he’s super sexy. All those dark features highlighted by a tan complexion. His soulful brown eyes shot straight through me, daring me to look away. I bite my lip and think about his huge hands covered in grease. He has no idea how dirty I could get with him. Too bad he had to ruin it all by opening his mouth.
Good riddance.
Taking a few shuffled steps is all I manage in this packed place. This type of crowd isn’t what I expect from a tiny town, but Delilah did mention extra traffic during the summer months. Thinking about her makes me realize she should have been here by now.
I glance down at my phone to check for any messages, but find none. She’s already twenty minutes late, and I’m not sure what the hell to do now.
Delilah managed to convince me that moving to Garden Grove was a great idea, but doubt is sinking in like a ton of lead. My hopes of a happy housewarming are quickly being dashed. She promised everyone was so welcoming and kind, that I could wait here and make a crew of friends while she finished up at work. In the short time I’ve been here, there’s only been trouble and disappointment.
I’m attempting to distance myself further from the bar when Delilah makes an appearance. She weaves through the throng like an expert, beelining straight for me. In the next breath, I’m wrapped in a fierce hug.
“Holy shit, Rave. Sorry I’m so late,” she huffs into my ear before pulling away.
I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “It’s fine.”
Her green eyes pierce me, slicing through my lie like butter.
“What’s wrong? Why is your face so red?”
“Nothing. It’s really warm in here,” I explain while fanning myself.
She quirks a brow, waiting for me to spill, knowing I’ll fold easily enough. It only takes a few moments for me to crack.
“Ugh, okay. I got into it with a dude over a stool. Not a huge deal. We settled it, and I moved on.” I give her a smile, but it’s forced. “Tell me about your day. What kept you late at the shop?”
Delilah shakes her head. “You’re so not off the hook. A stool? Why aren’t you sitting down? There’s an empty spot right over there,” she says and points over my shoulder.
I twist slightly to glance at the bar, and frustration bubbles back to the surface. “Yeah, about that. I already tried, and that seat is reserved for assholes and those willing to deal with one. Found that out the hard way,” I mutter.
“What do you mean? No one is reserving it.”
I exhale loudly. “That guy,” I gesture to the hostile stranger, “has plenty to say on the matter. You can go ask him. I’ll stay here where it’s safe.”
“Do you mean Trey?”
“How do you expect me to know? I’m new around here. Remember?” My tone is harsher than she deserves, but I’m ready to be done with this line of questioning.
Delilah’s forehead crinkles as she gages my expression. “Um, who crapped in your Cheerios?”
“I already told you. Can we go somewhere else? All I want is somewhere to relax after my long drive. This isn’t helping.”
She laughs, tipping her head back and really belting it out. “Girl, you’re all fired up. I’ve never seen this side of you. I kinda like it.” Delilah winks at me. “But seriously, you can’t let that man bully you. Trey is a real shithead, filthy to the core. I’ve known him since the sandbox days. Let me handle this.”
Delilah grabs my hand and starts dragging me toward him. I dig my heels in, but it does little use. I shout protests at her back, but she plows forward, dodging huddles of people in our path. My friend is stubborn as a mule and protective like a mama bear. This Trey guy is about to get an earful.
His broad shoulders come into view, and I stumble slightly. As a last-ditch effort, I try yanking free of her grip, but it’s useless. We’re confronting him, right here and now.
With all the confidence in the world, Delilah hops onto the vacant seat and roughly taps his bicep. “I hear you’re causing problems for my friend, Trey. That’s not super neighborly. We all know you swallow a pint of piss and vinegar each morning, but would it kill you to be nice for five seconds? This stool is wide open, and all she wanted to do was rest her sweet ass while enjoying a brew. But no, you had to chase her off like a rabid guard dog.”
Trey slowly turns and scowls at Delilah’s finger pressed into his arm. He cranes his neck to glare at me before addressing my friend. “You about done running that loud mouth of yours, D?”
I gasp, but Delilah just grins as if he’s amusing her. “That’s not my style, and you know it. Now, you about ready to apologize to Raven?”
He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Dramatic as ever. There isn’t anything I’m sorry about so that’d be a hard no.” Trey looks back at me before adding, “Or do you need it to pad your fragile ego?”
When he tosses my words back at me, they don’t register. My brain is short-circuiting at the worst possible time. The moment his caramel coffee eyes sear into me, I lose my voice. That didn’t happen earlier, and sounds cliché as hell, but for real his dark stare just stole my ability to talk. My only excuse is that I’m wrung out and beyond exhausted. I can only blink and gape, unable to string a sentence together. Shame stings my cheeks, but I don’t drop my gaze.
Of course, he takes advantage of my silence.
“Cat got your tongue, Princess? My offer from earlier still stands if you need some help loosening it.”
“What?” Delilah snaps. “What happened earlier?” Her eyes dart between us but eventually settle on me. “Rave?”
I clear my parched throat, more desperate than ever for a drink. “N-nothing. I already told you. He’s very territorial of his space, and I made the mistake of barging into it.”
“For the love of all that’s holy. What did he say?”
I shake my head at her question, not willing to delve into more details. Delilah must see the desperation on my face because she doesn't force the issue. “We’ll discuss it later. But for now, don’t show weakness. He feeds off it. When Trey pushes, just shove harder.” She demonstrates by digging her finger deeper into his muscle. He shakes her off and shifts away, apparently done with the debacle.
Delilah waves before blowing me a kiss. “Vodka soda with a lime?”
“Sounds delicious,” I say with a smack of my lips.
“Can you two hens cluck somewhere else?” Trey grumbles. Delilah rolls her eyes but does
n’t react further so I choose to ignore him as well. When he realizes we aren’t moving, Trey barks, “Forget it. I’m done here anyway. Try not to drive everyone else crazy tonight.” He mumbles something about three strikes before slipping off the stool and disappearing into the crowd.
The air instantly feels lighter without him around, and I sigh with relief. Delilah pats his abandoned stool before saying, “Take a load off. About damn time, right?”
I gladly sit and swivel toward the bar, more than ready to turn this evening around. “Is that guy for real? I’ve never met anyone so rude yet forward at the same time.”
“Unfortunately, yes. Trey has always been a hot mess, emphasis on the hot.”
“Ugh, yeah. He’s way too good looking to be such a prick,” I agree.
“That’s why Trey is extra dangerous, like a triple threat. He’s bad for your heart, mind, and soul. His touch is a permanent stain you’ll never get out.”
“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” I say with a raised brow.
Delilah snorts. “Hell to the no. Are you nuts? All of us local gals know to stay the hell away from him and have been since middle school, whether he’s good looking or not. My friend, Addison,” she lifts her chin to a woman making her way toward us, “manages to remain civil with Trey, but only because she works here. Can’t go around cussing out customers, no matter how terrible they are.”
“Who’s terrible?” Addison asks as she stops behind us.
“Addy!” Delilah squeals and gives her a squeeze. “My two besties are finally meeting. This is Raven,” she gestures to me, “and she just arrived tonight.” We exchange smiles and waves before Delilah continues. “Raven had the displeasure of meeting Trey so I’m filling her in on all the necessary info.”
Addison cringes. “Oooh, I’m sorry to hear that. Had I known you were coming, I would have warned you. Trey was in a worse mood than usual.”
“He’s not always so bad?” I ask.
She makes a seesaw motion with her hand. “He has good moments, like after several beers. Don’t ever tell him that. It’s my secret against him,” Addison says with a smile.
“Bleh,” Delilah cuts in. “You’re far too forgiving. Trey is never nice to me, especially during a good night of drinking.”
Addison asks, “Can you blame him? You two have never gotten along.”
“Hey! Whose side are you on, biatch? He just steamrolled Raven.”
Addison nods and turns to me. “I’m sorry you had to deal with him. He’s kind of an acquired taste. Trey has his reasons, even D can admit that. Tonight he was more vocal about his displeasure too. Normally there’s a few women preening for his attention so that keeps him busy. That man can turn on the charm when necessary,” Addison says.
Delilah bobs her head. “Pretty sure his social screws are loose, but he manages to get plenty of ass regardless. We get a lot of clueless visitors who only see the handsome face. They fall head first into his bullshit.” She shoots me a wry grin.
“So, what’d he say to you? Was he a total douche?” Addison asks.
I blow out a breath, expelling the negativity. “I asked if anyone was sitting in the empty chair next to him, and that set off a chain reaction. He called me a bunch of nicknames that fired me up, then told me to get lost. While my head was still spinning, he propositioned me. I’m still trying to figure it out. Why are the hottest guys always the biggest assholes?”
They hum and nod, studying my face.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
They share a glance before Delilah answers. “It’s for the best you got that interaction taken care of. Now you know to steer clear. I’ve had a few friends stay with me from outta town and they’ve fallen for his shit. That won’t happen with you. I won’t let him chase you away.”
I scoff. “No effing way, thank you very much. I’m not a starry-eyed virgin.”
Delilah laughs. “Oh, I know. But you’re too sweet and always look for the good in everyone. Trey is the worst of the bad boys. Don’t bother searching for something that isn’t there, alright?”
“What she said,” Addison adds. “Okay. Enough Trey talk. Whatcha drinking? Champagne to celebrate? I’ve got just the thing to start a girl’s night right. And I’ll be off in less than an hour so get ready.”
“Yay, bring on the booze!” Delilah exclaims.
I join in with, “Bring the bottle!”
“Yes! Now we’re talking. I’ll be right back with all the goodness,” Addison says before dashing away.
Delilah scoots her stool closer to me. “So, how was the drive?”
“Ugh, long and boring. I was listening to a steamy audiobook, so that was fun at least.”
“You and those romance novels. Still thinking of publishing something?”
My heart rate spikes at the thought. “Maybe one day. I’m not so sure about all that anymore. I love writing, but letting people read my words? It might all be part of a crazy pipe dream.”
“Fantasizing is a great use of time.” Delilah nudges me, and we both laugh.
“Why do you think I read all the smut?”
“Gosh, I’ve missed this. I’m so glad you’re here, Rave. You’re going to love working at Jitters. The owner is a tad bitchy, but you’ll get used to her.”
I shake my head. “You’re a dork. It’s crazy amazing that you’ve got your own shop. Obviously, I’m the first in line to work for you. What else would I use my Communications degree for except baking and pouring coffee? Plus, this town is adorable. I’m happy you convinced me.”
“If you wanna sell erotic novels next to my coffee beans and muffins, I won’t stop you. Jitters can be yours too.”
“Ah, thanks, boss. We’ll see what happens. I haven’t written anything exciting in a while. You’re giving me a new challenge. I’ll be too busy mastering the fine art of cupcakes and pastries.”
Delilah smacks her lips. “Sounds delicious. I can’t wait to be your taste tester.” She leans closer and wags her brows. “But If you need inspiration for the dirty stuff, let me know. There was this hot cowboy around a few weeks back. Lawdy, my lady bits were pleased. You can write a whole book on our sexcapades.”
I giggle, but envy stings my skin. I’ve never experienced anything wild like that. Maybe that’s why I like to write about it.
Addison shows up with our bubbly. She has shots too. The short tumblers are brimming with some fruity pink concoction they’ve coined Slippery When Wet. Seems extremely fitting.
I clink glasses with Delilah, making a toast to friendship and a blissful summer.
After downing the sugary liquid, we order another and brainstorm filthy names for menu options at Jitters. My favorites so far are Afternoon Delight, Muff Diver, Doctor Pecker, and Morning Screw. My hostile encounter with the surly anti-gentleman floats away as I get lost in plans for the future.
And just like that, the unfortunate beginning to my evening is forgotten.
TROUBLES
Trey
IT’S A SLOW morning at the garage, which is typical around here. My schedule is booked with annual tune-ups, new brake pads, and flat tires. These tasks have become second nature, ingrained in my system like breathing. Makes the time fly by fast.
There’s nothing better than getting covered in grease and grime, proof of a successful day. Each smudge on my coveralls is a badge of honor. Spending hours doing something I enjoy always feels like a gift, and there isn’t much I cherish. Geeking out over foreign parts or finding a more efficient tool are perks I’ll never take for granted. Plus, cars make the best companions since they never talk back.
My hands move automatically as I reach for the wrench and tighten a loose bolt. Then I tweak the battery’s wire connection and replace the safety caps. Straightening from under the hood, I stretch while taking a deep inhale. The shop smells like rubber and oil, exactly as it should. The air is musty and stale, but to me, it’s the sweetest scent.
For some reason, the
scent of a certain flower perfume from a particular blonde broad comes to mind.
I shove that thought away with a harsh scrub along my forehead. That chick, Raven, is still screwing with my mind days later. Why do I find it sexy that her name contrasts with those fair features? She’s a puzzle I don’t have time—or patience—for. At least I haven’t seen her since the night at Dagos. Another bristled conversation with her might toss me over the edge of sanity. There’s something about her light features mixed with that sass
Fuck, she was hot.
Raven brought out the worst in me, which is really damning evidence of her impact. I’m not a nice person—my attitude is shitty at best—yet she managed to drag me lower. I’m fucking furious that she ran me out of the bar, but I’m more pissed at myself for giving her the power to do it. Sweat dots my brow as the temperature seems to skyrocket. I use my rag to wipe away the heat but my skin keeps burning.
I can’t stop obsessing over her vibrant eyes. The color will surely haunt my dreams. If I wasn’t such an asshole, I would’ve let her sit down just to stare at the light blue swirling into dark navy.
Jesus, I sound like a whipped pussy.
I shake off the disturbing feeling and concentrate on the list of jobs parked in the lot. They’re my priorities, not some newcomer who will be gone by Sunday.
Jacked Up is my uncle’s shop, his pride and joy, and it has become mine too. I’ve been working here since my arms could reach under the hood. My eyes refocus on the Chevy’s engine in front of me, a complex layout most people don’t take the time to understand. I’ve spent years buried in pistons and valves, studying the mechanics that turn individual parts into a collaborative machine. If I make the smallest mistake, the car won’t run right. Even the most common problem can cause a fatal accident.
I’m all too aware of the tragic possibilities, and not just because of my occupation.
When my uncle’s hand claps my shoulder, I startle more than normal. Getting lost in the past always has that effect on me. I release a rusty breath while freeing myself from the lingering ghosts. My chin lifts in greeting, but I wait for him to break the silence first.