Chapter 3
CHAPTER
THREE
KING
Atomic sits behind his desk as Gnaw and I make our way inside. “Well, my mom and stepdad are gone. The bar is a bakery, and we have three kegs that don’t have a home,” I announce as I flop down in the chair across from him.
Gnaw sinks down in the one beside me, not saying a word. Atomic leans back in his chair, his eyes on mine as he lets out a grunt. “Good news is that I was thinking of having a party, and to do that, the club needs three new kegs.”
I start to ask him why he’s having a party, but he continues to speak. “It’s more of an ‘invite the local talent out for an evening’ kind of party. We haven’t done anything like that in a while,” he says.
“Local talent?” I ask. “This party include desserts?” I ask.
Gnaw laughs.
I think about asking him what the fuck this whole party is for, but I don’t because I have a feeling this is all just to keep those three kegs from going completely to waste. And leave a paper trail. Because at the end of the day, the paper trail is all that fucking matters.
“Like from a bakery?” Gnaw asks.
“One downtown,” I reply with a chuckle. “She looked like she could use the business, and swear to fuck, I could have come from that cupcake I ate.”
Atomic lets out a guffaw. “Yeah?” he asks. “That from the cupcake or the cupcake serving it to you?”
“Both,” I say with a grin. “But do tell about new talent?”
Atomic’s lips curve up into a grin. “We’ve had the same clubwhores for a while, right? Don’t you want to recruit some new pussy?” he asks. “I always like to freshen up the place, and it’s been a while.”
I sure as shit fucking want fresh pussy, and it has been a hell of a long time. I’ve memorized all the cunt we have here. Poison is the newest and youngest, but she’s also the one who puts herself out there, and out, the most often. I can’t even count how many times I’ve been inside of her.
“That sounds like a good thing to me,” Gnaw states, standing to his feet, almost jumping to them.
He seems really fucking excited about it, and I can’t blame him. I feel the same way, my heart slamming against my chest at the idea of the fucking party. It’s been a while since we’ve had an open party, but that’s not what has me fucking thrilled. It’s the bakery babe.
Smiling, I jerk my chin. “Order some fucking dessert,” Atomic states. “Bring the kegs in and have the prospects set them up. Party is Friday, and we’ll get the news out to the women in town.”
That’s my cue to leave, and I take it. I walk out of the office, head into the bar, and go straight for the booze. I don’t know what the reason is, the party, the bar that’s gone, or that sweet little thing at the bakery, but I need a goddamn drink.
Guts slides an opened beer across the bar top toward me as soon as I walk up to the warm, scarred wood. Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around the bottle and lift it to my lips to take a pull from the bottle before I turn and scan the room.
There’s a couple fucking in the corner, four guys playing pool together, another playing pinball, four playing poker, and then a clubwhore giving three guys a lap dance. This is my life, my world, and I fucking love it.
I wouldn’t want it any other way.
I cannot imagine anything about my life changing in any way whatsoever.
Brew slides up next to me, lifting his own beer bottle to his lips to take a drink. He clears his throat, then turns to face me. Shifting my focus over to him, I jerk my chin. “What’s up?”
He shrugs a shoulder, then clears his throat. “Got some shit I need some help with tomorrow night. You down?”
Brew doesn’t even have to ask me. He knows I’m down for whatever the fuck he needs. “This official club business, or is it off the books?” I ask.
He hums. “Mostly off the books.”
My lips curve up into a smile, and I dip my chin in a single nod. “Yeah. I’m good with that. Whatever you need.”
“Tomorrow night, ten. Meet me down here. We’ll head out.” He pushes off the bar and walks away.
I watch him go for a moment, right until I feel a hand touch my shoulder. Turning, I look at the fingers on my shoulder. They are long and sexy, the red nails the same. Then, there is the body that the arm is attached to. Also sexy as fuck.
“Vixen,” I murmur.
“You looked lonely all the way over here by yourself.”
“Yeah,” I mutter.
She slides around me, her hand gliding across my chest, then stops when she’s directly in front of me.
Dipping my chin slightly, I look down into her eyes.
They aren’t as innocent as the sweet thing at the bakery.
These eyes, they’ve seen a whole lotta shit.
These are the eyes that I should have looking back at me, eyes that have seen and done shit. Not sweet and innocent ones.
Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers around the back of her neck, holding her body still for me, then lean forward, but I don’t kiss her. I won’t. She knows that. Applying pressure to the back of her neck, I push downward slightly.
She takes the guidance, her knees bending, and then she’s on the floor at my feet. Her hands reach for my belt, her tongue slides out and she licks her red lips as her hungry gaze shifts from mine to my cock.
Yeah. This is the shit I deserve. This right here, this is the shit I want.
Right?
SHAWN
Tears spring to my eyes at the thought of closing down my shop after less than a year. My mother is going to love this. Seriously love it. She’s going to gloat nonstop and laugh at me for being such a loser.
Pressing my lips together, I load the case for the day. Another Monday, another week of barely hanging on.
Once I’m completely loaded up and ready, I walk over to the door and unlock it, then open the blinds and flip on my light. I’ve already been at the shop for hours, baking and decorating my treats.
I never actually get to the point where I make replacements every day. I take all my cupcakes and pastries to the food bank and donate them. I can only hope that the tax deduction tickets will somehow help me at the end of the year.
Though I doubt it. I’ve sunk so much money into this place, I don’t think there is any way that anything can help me at this point. Walking behind the case, I take my phone out of my back pocket and start to search for a job.
I’m not going to have a choice. I need to find something else, except there’s nothing in Pineville. I expand my search. I could move if I had to. Couldn’t I? I hate the thought of living anywhere else but here. It causes my heart to squeeze and my stomach to flip.
I don’t even know why. I have nothing here for me. No family I’m close to, nothing after this shop. But moving to a whole other town would be hard. I wouldn’t know how I would get there. How to move my things there.
I don’t drive. Not just because I don’t have a car and can’t afford it but also because I don’t have a license.
I wasn’t ever able to take permit classes or the driver’s training.
My mom and whatever man she was with at the time were never going to pay for anything, and my money had bigger ideas, like this failing place.
I almost laugh at myself because if I don’t, I might cry. I’ve wasted my whole life and every cent I’ve ever earned on this dream. A dream that is nothing except a failure. Pinching my eyes closed, I suck in a deep breath and hold it for a moment.
The bell on the door rings, and I open my eyes, letting the breath out just to see that hot guy in leather from last week walk inside. He doesn’t look as angry as he did a few days ago, but when his eyes find mine, my breath hitches. I’d almost forgotten how incredibly gorgeous he is.
“Hello?” I call out.
The silence between us becomes deafening, and I can’t stand it. I start to say something else but then close my lips. I don’t know what to say. He’s back here, but I don’t know if he’s happy about it or not.
I can’t tell what he’s thinking. The way his blue eyes find mine, holding them. Then he smirks, which causes my entire body to jerk. I don’t know what it is. I’ve never felt this way about a man in my whole life, but this one causes my entire body to feel warm and tingly.
“You’re back,” I finally manage to whisper.
He smirks. “I am.”
I watch as he slowly makes his way toward the counter, his eyes never leaving mine. Then he places his palms on the glass countertop. “Need to do an order for Friday night.”
“An order?” I ask.
He nods his head once. “Enough of your amazing cupcakes for about three hundred.”
My mouth drops open. I couldn’t keep my lips closed at this point, even if I wanted to. I’m completely shocked.
“All different flavors. However you want to do them. Deliver them to this address,” he says as he reaches for a piece of scratch paper that I keep at the counter for such occasions, although it’s never been used, and writes an address on it.
“Have it there by seven. Party starts at nine, so you should be in and out before shit gets real,” he says, although it kind of sounds like he’s talking to himself.
“So, fifty of each flavor?” I ask as he slides the slip of paper toward me.
“Sounds good to me,” he says with a grunt. “But don’t tell anyone it’s vegan or any of that shit. And maybe…” He lifts his gaze to meet mine, holding it, his eyes searching my own. I wonder what he’s thinking. I want to ask him, but I decide against it. “Maybe leave your business cards there.”
I hold my breath for another beat before I let it out slowly, then my lips curve up into a smile. “I can do that,” I whisper.
“I’ll give you half now and half on delivery. That good?”
“Yeah,” I exhale. “That’s good.”
“How much do I owe you?”
I want to give him my regular price, mainly because I want to make some serious cash off him, but he’s buying in bulk, and that wouldn’t be fair at all. Instead, I quote him four hundred and fifty dollars.
He reaches into his pocket, and I start to ask him for details so I can fill out my slip. “So, what’s your name?” I ask, my gaze focused on the slip and nowhere else. There is a moment of silence, and my gaze flicks up to meet his.
I watch as his tongue slides across his bottom lip before he smiles. “King.”
“King?” I ask.
He hums. “King Stanley.”
Scrawling his name on the slip, I repeat it. “King Stanley. Okay, three hundred cupcakes. Six flavors and four hundred and fifty dollars to be delivered this Friday at seven in the evening,” I say, repeating everything as I write it down on the slip.
Not that I could forget any of it because this is the only thing that is going to pay my rent for the month.
I’m still going to be losing money, but I can at least pay Arthur, my wonderful landlord.
Even at the hugely discounted rate, this is going to save me for one more month. And then I can worry about what’s next.
“That’s not enough money,” King announces. “Your cupcakes, right there in the case, say three bucks. You’re charging me half.”
God. What a nice guy. Seriously.
“I can’t see charging you the à la carte price for a bulk order like that,” I whisper.
He reaches out, and his index finger touches the back of my hand. My gaze slides up to meet his, and I hold it, loving the way his blue eyes sparkle as they look directly into mine. Then he smirks. “Babe,” he rasps. “Those fuckin’ cakes are worth three bucks a pop.”
Then, without another word, he slams his hand down on the counter. Five one-hundred-dollar bills. Five. My mouth drops open, and I stare at him. I don’t know what to say at all. Instead, I give him a smile.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Yeah,” he rasps. “See you Friday.”
Then he turns his back to me and walks away.
I watch him slip out of the front door. Five hundred dollars sit in front of me, but I can’t take my eyes off his back.
Why me? Why my shop? He could get them from Sam’s Club or anywhere for a hell of a lot cheaper.
But he came here and special ordered them, paying retail.
Why? I’m trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
However, I can’t help but feel curious about it all.
Then I wonder if he’s really going to pay me anything else.
He doesn’t have to pay me a cent more. My price was less than what he’d already given me, but it would help me more than he would probably ever know.
Instead of asking myself any more questions, I decide it’s time I do. I’m going to shut up and bake three hundred cupcakes and deliver them on Friday, all in hopes I’ll gain some new customers. And maybe, just maybe, this is the break I’ve needed.