Happily Ever Alpha: Until Midnight

by Gwendolyn Grace

  The Fox family owned Annette's Catch, the beachside bar where I'd been working for the past eight months. That also made Fox my boss. Interrupting their love-fest wouldn't have gone over well. I rolled my eyes at them and then pulled my notepad from my apron. With each step toward Brando's booth, my heartbeat quickened. I tried concentrating on my shoelaces instead of the man in front of me.

  "Hi," I said, my gaze shifting from my laces to Brando's large black boots and blue jean-clad legs that were planted under the booth. I waited for his response and as each second ticked by, the harder it was for me to breathe. I bit my lip and slowly lifted my head, meeting eyes the color of warm molasses. Having seen them up close, I knew tiny flecks of gold were speckled around each rim.

  "Hey." Brando gave me a relaxed grin as he stretched an arm along the back of the booth.

  "Are you ready to order?" I returned my attention to the notepad, no longer able to handle the way Brando's long fingers slowly caressed each page as he thumbed through the menu. More seconds ticked by with him hoping to catch my eye again and me, doing my best to resist.

  "Last call," Fox bellowed from behind the bar.

  "Well, I guess that means food is out." Brando slid the menu away. "Tell me you've made some of that amazing coffee I love." His slow drawl was so velvety smooth that the sound floated into my ears and slid effortlessly down the length of my body, setting fire to desires I'd been trying not to think about.

  "Um, yeah," I answered hoarsely, working to regain control of myself. "I'll get you a cup." I scribbled the word 'coffee' on my notepad unnecessarily then scurried off. When I reached the brown swinging doors that led to the kitchen, I gave it a hard push and met resistance.

  "Ow!" Harley yelped from the other side of the door. "What the hell, Carina?" She stared at me incredulously as she rubbed her nose. Her long chocolate brown hair was no longer in a bun, and her apron was rolled up in one hand.

  "Sorry, Harley. I didn't see you." I made a hasty apology and went to the freshly brewed pot of coffee I'd made minutes before, specifically for Brando.

  Harley stood on her toes to peer through the foggy kitchen door window.

  "Oh, I see." A slow smile stretched across her face, reminding me of the Cheshire Cat. "Brando is here."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" I sputtered, suddenly feeling defensive.

  "It's okay. Trust me, I get it. I used to date his brother, remember?"

  "Harley, please," I groaned, not wanting to discuss Brando with her. "Will you stop it. It's not what you think," I lied, knowing it was exactly what she thought.

  "Mm-hmm. Sure." Harley nodded and picked at the black hair tie on her wrist.

  "What now?" Annoyed, I put a hand on my hip and glared at her.

  "Hey, did you get a tattoo?" She reached out, and I put my arm behind my back.

  "It's nothing," I mumbled.

  "Carina Risto. I know Brando, and he's clearly into you." She leaned against the door with her arms crossed. "Why do you think he comes in here late at night for coffee when the stuff we serve is cheap and crappy? Don't think I haven't noticed that you start a fresh pot just before ten o'clock, hoping he'll walk in. What I don't get is if you're into him and he's into you, why the resistance?"

  I didn't have an answer or at least one I wanted to share with her. Instead, I settled on a lame response.

  "It's complicated." I shrugged and continued with preparing Brando's coffee.

  "It's only as complicated as you make it. Trust me, I know a thing or two about that." She sighed then shook her head. "Anyway, I'm taking off. There's a race tonight. Are you going to be okay closing by yourself?"

  "Yeah, I'll be fine."

  "Okay, but will you do me a favor?" When I nodded, she continued, "Get out of your own way. Brando's one of the good guys." Harley finger waved as she disappeared through the double doors.

  I wanted nothing more than to do just that. To confide my secrets and let Brando in. It was hard sharing things about my life while avoiding questions I wasn't ready to answer. Very significant information about myself. Where had I been for the past six years and what caused my sudden return? Why had I been working for tips at a little mom and pop restaurant and renting the small studio apartment upstairs, especially when I was from the wealthiest family on the island?

  I poured the coffee, placed it on a tray, then pushed back a loose strand of red hair that had escaped from my messy bun. Slowly, I carried the steaming cup to Brando, counting each step as I moved, one, two, three...hoping it would calm my nerves. Seven, eight, nine...

  "Thanks." Brando smiled gratefully then wrapped his palms around the warm mug and lifted it to his lips. Harley was right about one thing; the coffee was the cheap stuff.

  "How is it?" I asked huskily as if his response determined whether I would take my next breath. I didn't know why it mattered so much to me, but it did.

  "Delicious." He slowly licked his bottom lip as his eyes met mine. A rush of memories filled my mind as I remembered all the things that tongue was capable of.

  "Miss?" I quickly blinked away my dirty thoughts. "Can we have our check?"

  I whipped my head around quickly to the couple sitting near the window. "Sure, I'll be right over."

  Brando chuckled softly, and I hoped my cheeks weren't as red as they felt. His sketchpad rested open next to his elbow and a pen was tucked behind his ear.

  "I... I’ll be right back," I mumbled and hurried off, though I had no intention of returning. I could feel the heat of his stare as I moved away.

  Music played softly on the jukebox while I rolled the carpet sweeper across the floor. Brando drank his coffee as he scratched his pen along the image he was working on. I was okay with pretending he wasn't there, though I was curious to see what he'd been drawing. He stared intently at the sketchpad, his eyes focused and yet distant at the same time. The fluid motion of his wrists, the way he'd pulled in his bottom lip as he concentrated on each line had me captivated.

  After the last customer left the restaurant, only Brando and I remained. I was trying to think of something to say, or better yet, a gentle way to kick him out. It was a bad idea to be alone with him, though it was tempting. I turned off the jukebox, and Brando lifted his head, looking around as if he'd suddenly become aware of his surroundings.

  "Time to go?" He grinned slowly, and my knees grew weak. He was so perfectly handsome. It had been impossible for him to look bad, no matter his facial expression. Especially when his lips parted, and his eyes rolled back slightly as he—

  "'Night, Carina." Brando's voice interrupted my lust filled flashback. He was standing near the door, with one hand on the handle and his sketchpad tucked under his arm.

  "Oh, erm, 'night." Warmth filled my cheeks again as he stepped outside, letting the door slowly fall closed by itself.

  I glanced at the clock. It was almost midnight. Dread settled in the pit of my stomach. The car would be there any minute. I hurried around the restaurant, collecting any hidden dishes and pushing in chairs, then went to the one thing I'd had to look forward to...Brando's drawings. I couldn't wait to discover which new inanimate object he'd given life to. A coffee cup? A drinking glass? A pair of spoons? I flipped the paper over, and the smile on my lips faltered. It wasn't an object. It was my face. Round eyes that I'd always felt were too big, my short little nose, and a cynical twist to my mouth. The picture was beautifully done, though it made me sad to know he saw me that way.

  Guarded, weary, and a little lost.

  He wasn't wrong. I just thought I was doing a better job of fooling people.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Brando

  Somebody had been stealing from me. I'd just listened to a voice mail from my bookkeeper. The records in the office and the bank deposits weren't matching. Small amounts that had started to add up over time. Someone actually had the balls to take money from me? It was infuriating. At least my own mother had the decency to rob me to my face.

  My mind wasn't even
focused on the dark road ahead. I forced the car to go as fast as I could. It been raining off and, on all day, and puddles of water had formed alongside the pavement. Speeding down a dark, slick road like that was stupid, but I didn't care. I let the anger have me, to hell with it. I wonder if anyone would care if my car flipped into a ditch. The wipers swished rapidly as water sprayed against my windshield. I started slowing down when I noticed red tail lights twenty or thirty yards in front of me. Suddenly the brakes lit up, and the SUV jerked to the right, then came to a complete stop on the side of the road, narrowly missing the ditch. The back door flew open, and someone hopped out, slamming the door behind them. The SUV pulled off, tires squealing. The figure began walking in the opposite direction, toward me. I got close enough to see that it was a woman. She'd crossed her arms over her chest, hunched her shoulders, and walked forward into the pouring rain. I slowed down, ready to offer her help. My headlights illuminated the woman, and I noticed her red hair.

  No, it couldn't be.

  I stopped and rolled down the window.

  "Carina?" She didn't stop walking. "Carina," I yelled a little louder. She looked up. Her eyes went wide, and her bottom lip trembled.

  "B-Brando?"

  "Get in." It was a command, not a suggestion. I half expected her to say no, but instead, she opened the door without argument and got inside. I turned up the heater as she settled in the passenger seat.

  "S-sorry I'm getting your seats all wet." She shivered, her voice small, and her actions docile. She didn't seem like herself at all.

  "What's going on, Carina? What just happened?"

  "Nothing." She shook her head.

  "Are you kidding me right now? I just watched you jump out of a car in the middle nowhere in the pouring fucking rain, and you call it nothing?" My anger was rising with each passing second.

  "I... it’s..." Carina stammered. "I can't." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Can you just take me home?"

  Her refusal to give me answers sent me over the edge. As if I wasn't already about to lose my shit before she got in. Whatever it was had upset her to the point she couldn't or wouldn't speak about it. I flipped a U-turn in the middle of the road and gunned it. Carina didn't make a sound, just rested her head against the seat and stared blankly out the window. I felt helpless. I didn't know what to say or the right questions to ask. When someone said they didn't want to talk, then I left it at that. It was how I wanted to be treated. To be left the fuck alone. Talking about feelings and shit had never been my thing.

  Lights came into view the closer we got to town. I slowed down to the posted speed limit then continued past the empty boat docks. The ferry to the mainland stopped running at midnight, and afterward, the town always went quiet. There was a clanging of a bell in the distance, waves crashing against a wooden deck, and a dog that went insane with barking as we passed by.

  "I don't want to go home," Carina quietly declared. "Can you take me somewhere else?"

  "Like where?" I asked.

  "I don't care."

  So I kept driving to the only other place open that time of night. My place.

  ****

  For a while, I'd shared a house with my brother on the mainland, but when his girl moved in, I felt they needed their space. I occupied the spare room at a friend's condo temporarily and never left. Todd had no complaints, though, he was more than happy to keep taking my money.

  As we approached the front door, I instantly regretted bringing Carina there. Music and loud voices sounded from inside. I should have known. One of Todd's favorite things to do was party. It didn't matter the night of the week, and there didn't need to be a reason. It had started to get worse over the past few weeks.

  "Shit," I said under my breath. It wasn't the calming atmosphere I'd had in mind when I brought her there.

  "What?" Carina looked up with tired, trusting eyes. Whatever she'd gone through had left her drained, and I felt an overwhelming need to protect her.

  "Nothing." I grabbed her hand and pulled her behind me.

  A cloud of weed smoke assaulted us as soon as I'd opened the door. Carina scrunched her nose at the overwhelming smell.

  "Sorry," I said, scanning the crowd. I wanted everyone out. The place was full of people I didn't know, and it pissed me off even more. I hated when strangers were in the house. I kept a lot of cash and a few other things I couldn't risk someone getting their hands on. One or two people? Fine. A full house? No. Somebody was about to get his ass kicked.

  "Where's Todd?" I yelled when I'd finally spotted a familiar face.

  "Hey, Brando." Rosie spun around with cheeks flushed from drinking, and her long black bangs falling over one eye. "Where have you been?" She giggled. When her glassy blue gaze shifted over to Carina her smile faded.

  "Hi, Rosie. Have you seen Todd?"

  Rosie turned to me again, the liveliness from seconds before gone.

  "Todd?" she repeated, then blinked as if she were collecting her thoughts. "The patio." She lifted the arm that was covered in ink from shoulder to elbow and pointed to the half-open glass door.

  "Thanks, Ro," I said. She nodded, flung one last look at Carina, then grabbed her beer and left the kitchen.

  "Wasn't that the girl who...?"

  "Yeah."

  "Oh." Carina's lips were pinched together and eyes narrow as she watched Rosie's departure. I didn't know why, but I liked that Carina seemed bothered.

  A couple of people pushed past us, moving in each direction. It was loud and chaotic, and I just wanted everyone out. I also knew it was going to take a lot of time and effort to make that happen. All I really wanted to do was be alone with Carina.

  "Fuck it," I mumbled and left the kitchen with her in tow. We made our way down the hall that led to my room. I used my key to unlock the door, then flipped on the light as we stepped inside.

  The only piece of furniture in the room was my bed and a folding tray I used as a nightstand. I didn't even own a dresser. I hung what I could in the closet, and the rest sat in a clothes basket on the floor. I closed and locked the door then turned to see Carina wrapping her arms around herself as she stood in the center of the open floor. Her work T-shirt and shorts were damp, and the messy bun she usually wore was hanging to one side.

  "Oh, right. You must be freezing." I reached down, pulled one of my clean shirts from the basket, and offered it to her. "Here. It's probably too big, but it's dry."

  She gave me a small smile and took it. After a moment of hesitation, Carina undid the button of her shorts. I turned away, picking up discarded clothes and tossing them into a pile in the corner. Even though I'd already seen her naked, I didn't want to make the moment awkward. After she'd changed, I pulled a hanger from the closet and hung her clothes up to dry. She was swimming in my white T-shirt. The sleeves stretched down to her elbows, the hem stopping high enough to leave most of her curvy legs exposed. My gaze landed on the jagged pink scar at the top of her left thigh. I noticed it the other night but didn't think she'd tell me about it if I asked. As she moved across the room, her heavy tits bounced, and in the right light, I could see her nipples through the thin material. The growing hard-on in my jeans was starting to get uncomfortable.

  Carina sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her hair loose. Red waves of soft silk spilled over her shoulders and down her back. When she went to gather it in her hands to tie it up again, I stopped her.

  "Wait." I sat down and gently wrapped a lock of curls around my finger. "Leave it."

  Carina closed her eyes briefly, allowing my touch. When she opened her lids, our gazes met. I wondered if she knew just how beautiful she was.

  "Carina," I spoke softly," whatever it is, you can tell me." The pain in her eyes caught me off guard.

  "I know," she said and fell back against the bed.

  "Then why won't you..." My words trailed off, confused by her answer.

  "Because it's not your baggage to carry."

  "What if I want to?"

&
nbsp; "You don't. Trust me." She stared at the ceiling.

  "How do you know what I want?" I asked, lying down beside her.

  "No one in their right mind would want anything to do with that." It was frustrating not knowing what that was.

  "Yeah, well, no one in their right mind would try to tell me what I wanted." I sat up and looked down at her. She frowned and shifted her gaze to me.

  "Really?" Carina lifted herself to her elbows, her face mere inches from mine. "What exactly do you want, Brandon King?"

  "Woman, you already know the answer to that question." I pulled her face to mine and did something I'd been dreaming about for seventeen days. My intentions went far beyond kissing. I wanted to inhale her. To make her part of my soul.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Carina

  Brando pushed me back so he was lying on top of me, positioning himself between my parted legs. His fingers slid under the hem of my shirt and danced lightly along the curve of my hips and over my stomach. I reveled in the tenderness of his kiss. The softness of his touch. The heat in his eyes. I didn't want to shut him out. In fact, I wanted nothing more than to let him in. To lean on him and rely on his strength to get me through. His dark eyes were full of awe every time he looked at me, as if I were something to be treasured. I didn't deserve that. Inside I was trash and one day he would see it, too.

  "Your skin smells like strawberries." He ran his nose along the curve of my jaw as he inhaled. "Carina"—Brando brushed his lips over mine—"will you let me have you?" he asked, then plunged his tongue into my mouth as he cradled the back of my head in his palm.

  No man had ever kissed me the way Brando did. To be tenderly devoured. I knew it wasn't fair to keep giving my body to him while withholding the rest of myself. He wanted to know so much more about me. I didn't know whether I was doing the right thing. I just knew I felt better when I was with him. I saw the look on that girl Rosie's face. She wasn't wrong for having an eye on him. I just wish it hadn't bothered me as much as it did. A strong sense of possessiveness ran through me, and it made me desperate for him. For the moment, he was mine. I wrapped my legs around his waist and looped my arms around his neck. My answer to his request was obvious. The kiss intensified with each glide of our tongues and every moan of pleasure.