With a Grain of Salt (Lindell Book 3)

Chapter 13

Walker

I don”t know when I got so comfortable lying to myself, but I”m watching the door of the bar with ease, convinced that I”m just waiting to make sure she makes it here safely like I would any waitress who works here.

Deep down I know better, but even accepting it won”t change the direction my gaze is locked in.

Relief washes over me when just like clockwork, the door opens fifteen minutes before her shift and she steps inside. I don”t know that I”ve had a more punctual waitress ever. Most others, including Maggie, get here right at the start of their shift. I can tell that Claire doesn”t like to be rushed. She wants a few minutes in order to tie her apron and get a feel for the atmosphere and requests she”ll need to tend to first once her shift starts.

I notice her pink cheeks immediately. It”s only in the forties out there, but that hasn”t stopped me from wishing there was a blizzard that somehow managed to not only trap us inside but also somehow make every other customer disappear. Being here with her with no escape wouldn”t be as fun if it included the other dozen or so folks in here right now.

I can tell the minute she locks her eyes on mine that today is going to be different, and not in the she”ll-kiss-me-first-this-time way.

”May I speak with you?” she asks. Her tone is calm but the twitch of irritation in her upper lip betrays her real mood.

She bypasses the hook where her clean apron is hanging and disappears down the hallway.

”Another?” a guy at the bar asks when I go to walk past him.

My mind races with what she might need to tell me as I refill his glass and slide it across the bar to him.

She”s in my face the second I round the corner, the tip of her finger repeatedly jabbing me in the chest.

For a split second, I think she”s finally thought through that kiss and is going to give me what”s due for sexually harassing her in the workplace.

I pull in a deep breath, ready to take whatever punishment she deems appropriate because there”s no arguing that I was wrong.

”You”re punishing me because I didn”t kiss you back,” she growls, as she leans in closer, all the way up on the tips of her toes, and still not tall enough to look me directly in the eye without tilting her head back a little.

”What?”

”Next Saturday”s shift. You”re excluding me because I didn”t kiss you,” she repeats. ”You”re closing the bar to work Cash and Adalynn”s wedding. Meaning I lose my shift. Were you even going to tell me or was the real punishment me showing up for work and the front door being locked?”

I probably shouldn”t be smiling at her when she”s so damned mad, but this woman getting riled up just does something to me.

I clear my throat, trying to get my wicked thoughts under control before explaining myself.

Her eyes narrow when my smile grows, but I can”t help loving how quick she is to stand up for herself. She doesn”t seem to be the type that”s going to let stuff fester and grow inside of her, and that means she either has a hair-trigger anger button or she”s in a healthier state of awareness than most people. Either way, it”s hot as hell to see the anger in her eyes. If she isn”t going to take shit from me, then maybe she won”t take it from others in her life, and I love that about her.

”Are you done?”

”Are you serious?” she asks, her anger growing a little more as she glares at me.

”You still have your shift, Claire. I just didn”t think we needed a long conversation about where that shift would take place. I had every intention of mentioning it to you tonight.”

I watch as she deflates a little, and it makes me wish I would”ve let her stay angry for just a little while longer.

”Really?”

”Unless you don”t want it. I asked Maggie first because she”s been here the longest, but, honestly, she was relieved to have a full Saturday off.”

She clamps her mouth shut as I raise my eyebrows in question.

”And for the other part of that, I was sincere in my apology for kissing you. I”d never punish someone for not kissing me back. My ego isn”t so big that I got butthurt because of it. Your opinion of me is clear, but one day I hope you”ll believe that I”m not the type of person who would punish anyone for making a choice they have every right to make.”

It”s not the full truth. It still stings a little, but that”s a me problem not a her problem.

”Oh,” she says, her eyes darting to the side. ”Sorry.”

Her apology is weak, but if I”m judging it right, it”s because she feels sorry for reading me wrong.

”I”m not skeezy,” I say, really needing her to hear me. ”I wouldn”t use my position of power to abuse anyone like that.”

When her eyes meet mine, I can see that she believes me.

”Don”t forget to clock in,” I tell her before walking away. As much as I talk a good game, if the woman even hinted at wanting to kiss me ever again, I”d be on her so fast it would take her breath away and not in the I can”t believe you had the audacity way it did that first time.

What I want to do with her—to her—has nothing to do with me being her boss. It”s primal and some days really hard to ignore, but if my parents taught me anything as a young man growing up, it”s to respect the boundaries others have put in place.

She avoids looking at me for more than an hour, despite her coming to the bar for drink orders numerous times.

It feels like another rejection, but I know I have to get that shit under control. The woman is just working her shift, leading her damn life, and despite me claiming not to let my ego get in the way, thinking that her mood has anything to do with me proves the opposite.

I claim that I”d never kiss her again, but the finger jab to my chest was all too reminiscent of her anger when she was going apeshit in my office earlier this week. I had the same urge tonight as I did then, and it was even harder to fight than it was the first time. I know that has everything to do with knowing what it felt like to have her pulled against my chest and her lips on mine.

I consider making an appointment with Dr. Kaydence Miller, the local psychiatrist, because no single person should be taking up so much of my thoughts, but I”d never want them to go away, so the effort would be pointless.

I distract myself with my work rather than letting myself focus on every customer she approaches and trying to determine what they”re thinking. I know what the men are thinking when they dip their eyes from her face to her body as she approaches them with a smile. I know they’re either thinking they have a shot and they flirt harder or they know they don’t have a chance and are imagining themselves hooking up with her anyway. I know some of the women smile at her, but they notice the attention she gets. Some are bitter about it, like she has any control over what others think about her, including themselves. Some are envious. Some wish ill of her and have opinions they’d be chastised for in church tomorrow if they said them out loud.

We both stay busy, and I can tell she’s avoiding looking at me as much as I’m trying to avoid looking at her.

The only problem is I find it nearly impossible, whereas she seems not to struggle at all.