Chapter 2
DALTON
Beep, beep.
Dalton, Molly quit.
Beep, beep.
Izzy says she can’t come in tomorrow.
Beep, beep.
Can I get a raise?
Beep, beep.
If we run out of straws, what do I do?
Beep, beep.
Can I leave early? A hot guy just …
I power my phone off and slip it back into my pocket.
I should not be reading my text messages while getting a massage.
It’s not good for my stress levels. Running a restaurant is hard enough without getting stupid messages from incompetent people.
Granted, the person running Mama’s Kitchen for me tonight is my totally annoying younger sister, Lucia.
Who, from the sound of it, is doing a shit job.
I really need to hire some additional help.
My sister, though I love her, is not a businesswoman in any sense of the word.
I’m about to pull my phone out to message her back when I realize that the masseuse is getting on top of me and whispering something in my ear.
“Just the tip doesn’t count,” the blonde from the bar that I’d met earlier whispers in my ear as she continues to massage my shoulders. “No one gets pregnant from just the tip.”
I don’t even bother to open my eyes as she tries to convince me to take her to bed. How long has she been talking? I totally missed the fact that she was coming on to me. Shit! This is the last thing I need right now.
“Plus, I’m on the pill.” She’s practically begging me now, which is kinda pitiful.
It’s so pitiful that I would have left already, if not for the fact that her hands are like magic, lightening the tense knots in my shoulder muscles as she continues to knead her fingers into my skin.
“I thought we came back to my place to have some fun.” Her voice is breathy as it changes to a whine, and I immediately stiffen up—and not in the good way.
I knew this was a mistake.
“What are you thinking, Dalton?” She stops the massage and rests her head next to mine, like we’re some sort of couple, about to snuggle. Which the hell we are not.
“Not much, He …” My voice trails off. Fuck. I can’t remember if her name is Helen, Heather, or Helga.
We only flirted for about twenty minutes before she convinced me to come back to her place for a massage.
She said she’d trained in Sweden, and like a fool, I believed she really wanted to relieve my stress that night.
I should have known the accent was false when it went from Scandinavian to British to Southern in the space of one minute.
“I’m so horny. Why won’t you fuck me?” She pushes against my shoulder, and I roll onto my back. I open my eyes and look over at her. Her baby blues are eager.
She’s a beautiful woman. Too beautiful for her to be begging me to screw her.
“It’s not you.” I run my fingers through my hair and attempt to sit up, but she quickly slides her fingers to my chest. I grab her hands and move them off me.
“I really thought you were only asking me here for a massage.” I sit up and pull out my wallet.
“I have cash for the massage. I think we had a misunderstanding tonight.”
I try to ignore the fact that she took off her top at some point and is standing there in a silky, see-through bra. A different man would cave, but I’ve been around beautiful women my entire life. I have zero interest in becoming physical with her. Not just because she seems desperate and unstable.
“But I just want to feel you inside of—”
“I’m sorry, Heather, but I’m just not interested.”
I really hope I used the right name, but I can tell from the way her expression changes that I’m wrong. She jumps up off the bed, grabs her shirt from the ground, and pulls it on.
“It’s Ellen.”
“Sorry, what?”
“My name is Ellen … not Heather.” Her lower lip trembles. “I thought you were a playboy. Why don’t you want to sleep with me?”
She pushes her breasts up, and I shake my head, grab my shirt, and put it back on.
I button it up, trying to pretend that I’m not incredibly turned on.
She’s now playing with her boobs in an obvious attempt to seduce me.
I slide off the bed, slip my shoes on, and pull a couple of hundred-dollar bills from my wallet and throw them on the bed.
“This is for the half massage. I think we got our wires crossed. Like I said, I only came for a massage. I’m not sure what you heard, but there’s no way anything is going to happen between us … not tonight, not ever.”
“But I just …” Her voice trails off.
This was a fucking blunder on my part. I knew better than to come to her place. How did I get it so wrong? I must be very tired to have fallen for her masseuse line. I can’t believe I actually came here for a massage.
I bet the cute brunette from earlier in the bar wouldn’t have begged me to sleep with her if she’d been giving me a massage.
My mind flickers back to the girl with the defiant hazel eyes.
She had a mouth on her, and I enjoyed going back and forth with her while her sister watched.
Not that I had time to make a move. Not that she would have been interested either.
That much was apparent. I looked over at her a couple of times as she drank with her sister, but she didn’t gaze over at me once.
“So, you’re leaving, Dalton?” Ellen crosses her arms and glares at me.
Never again. I was an idiot for coming here with her.
“I appreciate the massage, and I hope you have a good night, but—”
“Just get out,” she shouts at me as I hurry to her front door.
I do wonder if she’s going through something. This seems like an extreme reaction to me not sleeping with her.
“You men are all the same.”
“I dare say, if I were like all men, I would have slept with you,” I mutter, but I can tell she’s not impressed by my comment, so I quickly make my escape and head to my car.
“Get your act together, Dalton.” I sigh as I head to my Mercedes and slide into the leather seat. “Make smarter decisions.”
I buckle my seat belt, look behind me, check the back seat, and make sure there’s no one there before pulling out of the parking lot.
I debate between heading to the ocean or heading home, but I know the responsible thing is to head home.
My life is not my own anymore. I need to settle down and figure my shit out.
I start the car and drive away. My phone rings, and when I see that it’s my best friend, Roman, I immediately answer.
“What’s happening?” I ask into the air as my Bluetooth connects to the speakers.
“Just checking in.” He grunts like he just finished playing ball. “I was just at the gym and headed home.”
“Cool, cool. I’m actually on the way home as well.”
“From where?”
“What do you mean, from where? You’re not my dad, Roman.”
“Might as well be for all the shit I’ve gotten you out of.”
“Funny.”
“Where you at? I was going to head to Kettle King, but it sounds like you left already?”
“I’m on the way home …” I want to groan, but I don’t need Roman on my ass, calling me a fool.
“What the hell happened, Dalton?”
“You don’t wanna know.” I know that’s a lie.
Roman can be as nosy as an old lady in a retirement home. He wants to know all the gossip.
“Who do I have to shoot?”
“Not funny.”
“Not joking.” He pauses long enough to let me know he’s still got my back, no matter what I need him to do.
Roman has always been more like a brother to me. We’ve been friends since we were four, and I trust him with my life.
“I know. I’m headed home … from getting a massage.” I can’t stop the grunt from escaping. “Only she was hoping for more.”
“Shit, you didn’t finally accept a massage from slippery Helen?”
“It’s Ellen, and I did.”
“What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking she was a professional masseuse who could help take the knots out of my shoulders. I mean, that is her job.”
“But she’s always giving you eyes, man.”
“I guess I missed that.”
“She made a move?” He chuckles loudly, and I know he already knows the answer to that question. “Of course she made a move. You’re the fourth guy this month. Don’t you listen when the guys talk?”
“I have other things on my mind, like a restaurant to run, a son to raise, a—”
“A lady to find?”
“I’m not looking for a lady.”
“A man then?”
“Very funny, Roman.”
“Just saying, I’m supportive.”
“I very much like the pussy, thank you very much. I’m just not in any state to be dating or getting into a relationship.”
The thought of introducing a woman into my life right now makes my blood boil and my head pound.
The stress of keeping a woman happy is the last thing on my mind at this stage in my life.
Not that I don’t appreciate being with a woman.
I truly appreciate their soft curves and seductive smiles, but I don’t have time for distractions right now.
“Do I have to wash your mouth out with soap, Dalton?” Roman says, like he doesn’t utter the word in every other sentence. “Is that how you refer to—”
“Shuddup.” I laugh as the monitor in front of me notifies me that my sister has sent me another text message. “Remind me to never leave Lucia in charge at Mama’s Kitchen again.”
“What’s she done now?” he drawls in a humorous tone.
Roman knows my sister almost as well as I do, and he knows that high jinks should be her middle name. There’s not a job she’s had where disaster has not existed.
“What hasn’t she done? It sounds like I should be happy the walls are still standing.”
“Need me to talk to her for you and give her some training? You know I run a tight ship.”
“I run a tight ship as well. She doesn’t care because I’m her brother and she knows I won’t fire her.”
“Yes, she and Izzy have some amazing perks. They can both do what they want and not get fired.” He laughs like he told the funniest joke in the world.
“Well, Izzy has been her best friend since they were four. I can hardly fire her, even though every time I’m there, all I hear her talking about is her boyfriend and the idiotic things that he does. I don’t know why she’s still dating that fool.”