7. Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
Griffin’s Beach Undertaker
H eading into the deli for lunch, Undertaker’s mouth waters.
This is the first place he’s found to get an Italian sub as good as the ones he had while he was living on the east coast. The red wine vinegar and oil atop spiced meats makes his stomach growl in anticipation.
The scent of fresh bread wafting through the air only adds to the overall atmosphere of deliciousness.
So damn good.
The man behind the counter knows him and his order, which isn’t a big surprise considering he comes in at least three times a week. Sometimes more. He doesn’t even say a word, and the order is ready and waiting for him at the till. A large Italian sub and one large drink.
“Glad to see you again, big guy,” the old man says at the register. “You’re keeping me in business. I’ll have to start a rewards club just for you. Keep you coming in here.”
Undertaker chuckles. “Wouldn’t take it even if you offered. This is better than any chain out there, Milt. See you in a day or two.”
He planned to take the sandwich to go, but he spots a familiar brunette, and before he knows it, his feet have him moving towards her booth.
Jamie sits alone, and her hair hangs in curls with more makeup on her face than she wore the night she went to the party. She looks damn good.
“Care if I join you?”
Jumping, she glances up before smiling. “Please.”
“Come here for lunch? I fucking love this place,” he says and unwraps his food. He takes a big bite and closes his eyes as he groans. “So good.”
“I was supposed to meet a date, but I’m pretty sure I got ghosted.”
He looks at the half-eaten sub on her plate as she picks at the bread and tosses it onto the tray. For the life of him, he can’t figure out what ghosted means, but it doesn’t really matter. “Date? Lunch isn’t a date, baby doll.”
Flushing, Jamie smiles but doesn’t meet his gaze. “It’s all I can seem to get. I hate internet dating.”
Why the fuck do you resort to finding men on the internet? That’s how you get chopped up by serial killers. The internet is for porn and googling medical symptoms. “His loss.”
She chuckles and shakes her head. “I should’ve known better. I’m not the type of girl most guys want.”
“And what type of girls do most guys want?”
Undertaker finds himself very interested in learning what type of girl he’s attracted to. Because as far as he’s concerned, she’s sitting right across from him in a delectable off-limits sort of way.
She slumps in her seat, and he swears he sees dampness on her long lashes even though she doesn’t appear to be crying. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t know you very well, and I don’t have your dating profile in front of me, but I can say with certainty that you’re pretty. And you seem fairly resilient. Not many people can hold themselves together waking into a motorcycle clubhouse like you did.”
This makes her smile. “Thanks.”
“And we both know your pencil dick stepbrother doesn’t have half your strength.”
“Oh, he’s… something, that’s for sure.”
“Still didn’t answer my question, baby doll.”
“I’m not the prettiest or skinniest girl in any room. All the guys I meant want the skinny girls. The ones who better have two zeros in their pant size if they have double digits.”
He snorts and continues chomping away. “Not every guy wants someone that skinny.”
“I thought maybe this would be a new start, you know? New place, new guys. I was sooooo wrong.”
“You’re looking at the wrong men, then.”
Laughing, Jamie finally looks at him. “Yeah, okay.”
Something about this woman calls to Undertaker on a deeper level, and he can’t stop himself. He has to know how off-limits she really is. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”
Holy fuck. That’s more than fifteen years younger! “Just graduated college?”
“Last year. I took a temporary position for a year to add experience to my resume, but they didn’t ask me to stay on as a permanent employee. When Dad invited me to come and stay with him, it felt like a sign. Now, I’m pretty sure it was nothing short of a mistake.”
He studies her. “Mistake?”
“His new wife that he married six months ago doesn’t exactly like me. I think he invited me to stay for the summer out of guilt because I didn’t get an invite to the wedding. Which is weird because he’s never bothered to invite me to any of the others.”
There is so much packed into those three sentences, and he stares in shock, unsure which question to ask first. “Just how many weddings has your dad had?” he decides to start with.
“Um, Mom was his first, and this one makes wife number…” Jamie’s hazel eyes look up at the ceiling as she counts, “eight.”
Choking, Undertaker coughs and tries to figure out what the hell this guy could have that gets him so many women. He has to be rich. Or well-hung. Or rich and well-hung. “Holy shit.”
“He and Mom divorced when I was eight,” she says with a small laugh as he takes a drink of soda to clear his airway.
Wait, that’s seven marriages in… what? She’s twenty-two, minus eight… Fuck, I hate math. Okay, that would be fourteen years. Holy fuck, he’s been married roughly every two years? “What the actual fuck?”
“Right?” she asks and sighs. “Haven’t had to buy a single wedding present since I wasn’t invited to any of them.”
“Why doesn’t this bird like you?”
From everything Undertaker sees, not only is Jamie pretty, she’s intelligent and seems nice. What wife would openly dislike her new stepdaughter, especially after only half a year of marriage?
“The moment she saw me, she scrunched up her nose like she’d stepped in dog poop. She asked if I lost my luggage because my comfortable clothes weren’t good enough for her. My dad booked flights that took sixteen hours… but I guess I should have freshened up first.”
“Is that a real thing? Freshening up after a flight?”
Jamie tosses her hands up as she shakes her head and laughs. “I don’t know. I think it’s just another thing she doesn’t like about me. Nothing I do is suitable for her. In fact, she keeps mentioning how much she’d love to help me liven up my wardrobe for me. If I lose a few pounds .”
“And your dad just lets her get away with that? He doesn’t say anything?”
Pulling more bread from the sub in front of her, she sighs. “He always sides with his girlfriends and wives. He did offer to buy me a gym membership, which might not be a bad idea. At night, they lock the kitchen, and I’m the only one in the house without a key.”
“What the fuck?”
“Guess Dad thinks I’m too fat, too.”
“You’re not fat,” he says, finishing his meal and taking a long drink of soda.
Off-limits. She’s so far off-limits, Undertaker, you may as well get struck by lightning for thinking what you’re thinking.
“Because you’re one of, like, five people bigger than me around here,” Jamie says and refuses to meet his gaze. “Except you’re muscle, and I’m blubber.”
“Don’t say that,” he says. “You’re pretty. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a thicker girl. What guy really wants to date a girl who feels no different than sleeping next to a bunch of tools from his toolbox?”
She turns and looks out the window. “Every guy I’ve ever met. Not to mention the fact that I’m taller than most guys, it seems. That’s another issue. If I’m not too fat, I’m too tall. Usually both.”
“How’d the rest of the party go?” he asks, opting away from the path she’s on.
He’ll never convince her that she’s not fat or unattractive.
Not right now, anyway. Sure, she’s thick, but she doesn’t need to be locked out of a fucking kitchen at night.
If she wasn’t so young, he’d entertain thoughts of just how great those hips would feel in his hands as he pounds into her from behind.
Or how great those thighs would be squeezing his face as he buries his face in what he can only assume is a gorgeous and sweet pussy.
Shifting as he strains against his jeans, he reminds himself not to go there. She’s too young, and she’s not ready for the type of relationship he requires with women. No one really is, which is why he’s alone.
“I don’t know. I left right after you did, but Ron told my dad that I embarrassed him. If I wasn’t twenty-two, I think I’d be grounded.”
“Grounded?”
Her eyes finally meet his. “He’s never going to love me.
I realized it that next morning. No matter how much I try to get him to see how great I am, it never works.
” She pauses and lets out a sigh. “Is it so wrong to want my parents to love me? I’ve been invisible to both of them since I was eight.
I took care of myself, and I’m so… tired. ”
“You’ll find someone who makes you feel the love you deserve. Someone who can see exactly how great you are. Hopefully, that guy stands up to your father and asshole stepbrother. They need to be told to fuck off.”
“You’re one of the only people who seems to actually like me. Maybe I should date you.”
Undertaker made the mistake of taking the final drink from his soda, and he swallows wrong, nearly spitting it out at her. “That wouldn’t work, baby doll,” he chokes out.
“Let me guess. Not your type? Called that one. You probably like the type of girl who works out with you. Hits the gym for three hours a day.”
“No, you’re definitely my type. Actually, I don’t really have a type, but there are a couple of reasons this would never work with us. The first? You’re too damn young. I’m fifteen years older than you.”
“And the second?”
“I’m not good for a girl like you.”
Tilting her head, Jamie frowns. “Definitely not the response I expected. Why are you no good for a girl like me? Because you’re in a motorcycle club?”
“I’m just going to be direct with you. I’m an obsessive and possessive motherfucker.”
“What does that mean?”
“I want to be the center of my woman’s world.
Most women find that to be a very unhealthy relationship.
You come from a generation of independent women, which is cool, and I’m all about girl power, but I want someone completely and totally devoted to me.
Dependent on me for almost all of her needs. ”
He expects her to be disgusted and turned off. Instead, she smiles at him. “After years of never being seen or looked at in disgust, it doesn’t sound all that bad. Being the center of someone’s world doesn’t sound like it would suck.”
“You say that now, but you’ve never been in a situation like that. I have to know where my girl is every moment of every day. She has to check with me before making plans, and I have to approve of her circle. Which will be very small. No one I disapprove of is able to be in her life.”
Her look changes, and he can’t tell if she’s intrigued or disgusted. “Really?”
“On the plus side, though, I’ll burn an entire city to the ground for her.”
Chuckling, Jamie leans back in the booth.
“I know you’re trying to talk me out of wanting to be with a guy like you, but if you understood just how alone I’ve been for so long, you’d realize it’s doing the complete opposite.
I have abandonment issues, and it’s probably not hard to guess that I also have daddy issues, so the age difference doesn’t really bother me. ”
Fuck me. “Is that right?”
“I have a maturity level that generally reaches far beyond the average twenty-two-year-old.”
“I’m not the one for you, baby doll. Trust me. You deserve something more.”
“Why are you nice to me?”
The question takes Undertaker by surprise, and he stares at her. “That’s like asking why the sun shines. Would you rather I act like an asshole to you?”
“No, but I kind of expected you not to give me the time of day. Indifferent more than an asshole, I guess. So… Why are you nice to me?”
Because I’d give anything to fuck you and call you mine, baby doll. “You’re my type, but you’re too young and not even close to ready for what I have to offer.”
“Damn my age,” she says and purses her lips. “How much older do I have to be? Because I can probably get my hands on a fake ID.”
His cock throbs in his jeans as he smirks at her. “Nice try, baby doll. Nice try.”