10. No Head At Porter’s
TEN
NO HEAD AT PORTER’S
Rylee
I flip open the box flaps and pull out two bottles of whiskey and slide them onto the shelf. Grabbing two more bottles, I repeat the process until the box is empty. Turning it over, I break apart the glued flaps, flatten it, and toss it onto a stack of other broken down cardboard.
The liquor delivery came yesterday, but being a Friday, we were slammed, and I wasn’t able to put it all away. I told Jake I’d come in this morning to finish. So far, all the numbers check out. I’m crossing my fingers the ordering stays consistent from here on out. By late afternoon, I’m almost finished.
As I’m emptying the last box, the storage door opens and Dessa’s head peeks through the opening.
“Someone’s here to see you.” She leans her shoulder against the door frame.
“Who?” I wrap my fingers around the edge of the box, praying it isn’t my ex to tell me he’s bailing on Abby once again.
“I’ll give you one guess. Name starts with tee and ends in ray,” she singsongs.
My heart flutters in my chest and I shift my gaze so she can’t see the smile that pulls at my lips. I can’t explain how he does this to me every time I hear his name or think about him. There’s a battle raging between my head and my vagina and it’s the latter that’s winning the war. “I’ll be right there.”
Behind me on the wall is a reflective beer advertisement sign. I use it to smooth down my hair even though it’s more like a funhouse mirror than anything. What the hell am I doing? I shake my head. Strands flying in every direction. I pull open the door, stroll into the hallway, and peer around the corner to the open bar. Sitting front and center is Trey, looking hotter than any man in this bar should. He’s talking to Nora. I feel bad for eavesdropping on their conversation but not that bad.
“Why are you so averse to dating?” Nora asks.
“I have nothing against dating. I just prefer short term. One night. Maybe two if it’s good. But that’s it. After that, shit gets complicated with feelings and… more feelings.”
“You’re going to what? Stay single forever?”
“Why not? I can do what I want, when I want. I don’t need to ask anyone for permission. I’m wild and free.”
“But what happens if you find the woman that sweeps you off your feet?”
“If that happens, she’d better buckle up.”
I roll my eyes. Buckle her straight jacket? That’s the only thing I could imagine she’d want to buckle. Coming into view from around the corner, our eyes meet and it's as if he knew I was there all along. As I approach, I slow down and come to a stop right in front of him. “I feel like I should be surprised to see you here, but,” I shrug, “I’m not.”
He rests his elbows on the bar. “I was in the neighborhood.”
“You seem to be in the neighborhood often.”
“I kind of like it here. Maybe I’ll buy a house.”
A laugh bursts out of me. “This isn’t exactly a white picket fence neighborhood.”
“Good thing I don’t require a fence.”
My gaze roams over his body, eyebrows pinched. “It’s Saturday afternoon. Why the suit? Or is that all that’s in your closet? Hanger after hanger of suits.”
“I’ve come prepared for our date.” He winks.
“You’ll be waiting for a while.” I shake my head. “What can I get for you?”
“You. On a date with me.”
“Unless that comes out of one of these,” I point to the row of taps, “it’s not going to happen.”
“You drive a hard bargain. I guess I’ll take an IPA. How about lunch then?”
“I already have a date with leftovers from my favorite Indian restaurant.” I grab a frosted pint glass from the cooler and tilt it at an angle as I pull the lever of the tap.
“It’s hard to compete with that.”
Once it’s full, I push it toward Trey. For several seconds, his gaze never leaves mine. It’s almost like he can read my thoughts and knows whatever I tell him is the complete opposite of what my body wants.
Slowly, his gaze falls to the beer. Then he lifts the glass so it’s eye level. “Wow. That’s a perfect pour.”
Without saying a word, I point behind me at an oversized chalkboard with some text flanked by some swirly lines and various beer, hops, and wheat icons. Everything is lightly shaded with yellows, blues, and greens courtesy of Lach.
He lifts his head, following my finger. “No Head at Porter’s.” He pauses. “Is it odd that I’m both excited and saddened by those words?”
“Words to live by.”
He swallows a gulp of his beer. “You know what would be a great word to live by? Yes. As in saying yes to dinner with me.”
I pause, trying to piece together his words. My fingers curl around the edge of the bar as I lean in. “That makes no sense.”
He shrugs as a half smirk covers his lips.
“Didn’t we go over this?” I push off until I’m standing to my full height and hold up one finger. “Dinner sounds like a date.” I add a second finger. “Dates lead to relationships.”
“It’s dinner. It’s not like I’m asking for your hand in marriage. Unless that will help my chances. I’ll get on one knee right now.”
“Guess what I think about that?”
“What?”
With my other two fingers still in the air, I add a third. Then I curl my pointer and ring finger to my palm leaving only my middle finger.
A grin curls around his full lips. “That was good. But I don’t speak finger, so you have to give me a good reason why?”
“Because you’re… Trey.”
“That’s not a good reason.”
“You’re not my type.”
“Sexy. Confident. Well-endowed aren’t your type?”
I snort a laugh. “More like cocky and full of himself aren’t my type. Plus, you wear a suit.”
“What’s wrong with the suit?” He runs his hands down the lapels of his jacket.
“Nothing per se, but I just don’t do suits. They’re too…suity. It only adds to the cocky and arrogant thing you got going on.” I wave my hand over his body.
“Well, I can fix that.” Trey stands and removes his suit jacket and drapes it over the backrest of his stool. His fingers dig into the knot of his tie, loosening it. Next, he pops the button at his collar.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Taking off the suit.”
“You’re going to strip? Right here, in a full bar?”
“Yup.” He undoes a couple more buttons.
I want to tear my gaze away, but I can’t. Instead, I spit out whatever words I can muster. “Keep your clothes on. No one wants to see you naked.”
Nora smacks my arm, and I jerk my head to face her. From the corner of her mouth she says, “Speak for yourself. I kinda want to see what he’s packing underneath.”
I narrow my gaze at her. She shrugs and slinks away but keeps a close eye on Trey in case he does remove the rest of his clothes. She wouldn’t want to miss that. Hell, right now I don’t want to miss it either.
Trey clears his throat and I twist around to meet his gaze. “So, what’s it going to be? Am I getting naked right here or are we going on a date?
“If she doesn’t take it, does the offer extend to others in the room?” Nora asks over my shoulder. I nudge her away and she laughs.
“The entire bar doesn’t need to see you naked. Even though I’m pretty sure over half of the females here already have.”
Without missing a beat, Trey locks his gaze on mine. “But there’s only one woman I want to see me naked now.”
I can’t even hide my grin anymore. It's like he controls the strings connected to the corners of my lips and can pull them at his will, forcing a smile. He always has a snappy comeback to one up me. It’s infuriating but also weirdly turns me on. Spinning around, I slide down the bar, desperate to distract myself and escape Trey's captivating presence.
“Where are you going? You never answered my question.”
I glance over my shoulder. “About dinner? I don’t think so.”
“You still haven’t given me a good reason why.”
“I don’t do dinner.”
“It’s one meal. One friendly meal. Since we’re friends and all.”
“You’re relentless, aren’t you?” I tap away at the screen until it spits out a receipt.
“You haven’t told me no yet.” He shrugs his shoulders. “It’s one word. Two letters. Say it and I’ll never ask you again.”
I slap the paper on the bar and push it towards him. “There’s your bill. I’m closing out so I can go home. Here’s your date. You can walk me out.”
“Done.” He throws back the glass, swallowing the last gulp of his beer and slams it on the bar when it’s empty.
I collect my wallet from the back room. When I’m strolling toward the exit, Trey’s already waiting for me like an eager puppy, a beaming smile on his face. He’s fully removed his tie and kept the top two buttons undone. It’s sexy as hell. I hate myself for not being able to tear my gaze away.
I slide past him inhaling his signature leather and spice scent. It’s a unique blend, one not overpowering the other. I push open the door and he follows behind.
“I had a client meeting earlier this afternoon.”
I peer over my shoulder. “Huh?”
He catches up and is meeting me stride for stride halfway across the parking lot. “The answer to your question about the suit. I had a client meeting. Today was the only time he had available before leaving town.”
I nod. So, he works on the weekends, much like a certain someone else. While I appreciate him sharing something about himself, it's still something I can't do. “You don’t want to date me or have dinner with me. There’re enough skeletons in my closet to fill a cemetery.” This will send him running across the parking lot. It has with every other guy, and they weren't Trey. Self-proclaimed bachelor for life.
“Good thing I have a shovel. Or do we need an excavator? I’m sure I could pull some strings. Call in some favors.”
My heart jumps to my throat. That wasn't the answer I was expecting. “Maybe all of the above.” I come to a halt at the rear corner of my SUV, and I hike my thumb over my shoulder. “This is me.”
“Oh yeah. I remember this car. It was parked next to mine where you rode,” he takes a step closer to me, “my dick,” another step, “as if it were mediocre and would’ve preferred to spend the time painting your nails.”
I snort out a laugh and slap my hand over my mouth. After I catch my breath, I drop my hand. “Is that more telling of me or you?”
“We can always go a second round to determine the answer.”
The corner of my lips tip up into a smile. “Or we don’t.”
“Okay. Then how about dinner?”
“I thought this was our date.” I motion around us.
“But we’re missing a key part. Food.” He inches closer to me.
“I might have some chewing gum between the seats—”
His fingers brush over my cheeks, holding me in place as his lips press to mine. It’s soft and sweet at first until I grip the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. I moan into his mouth, and he deepens the kiss. Twisting us around, the cool metal seeps through the back of my shirt. He breaks away, resting his forehead on mine. I take the few extra seconds to collect my breath. This kiss almost trumps the first kiss, and the first kiss was good. So good.
“Should we finish this somewhere else? Perhaps your place.” After a few seconds of silence, he adds, “Or we can have another go at it in my backseat.”
“As tempting as that offer is, I can’t.”
“I guess if you want, we can go to mine.”
“No, it’s not that.” I slide out from under his arm. “It’s not just me at my house.”
“Wait. Are you dating someone? Is the ex not an actual ex? Because I may do a lot of things, but sharing isn’t one of them.”
A weak smile floats over my lips. “No. It’s not that.” I wring my hands together, building up the courage to tell him. It’s not that I don’t want to tell him, but I'm aware of his stance on kids, and I like to keep my private life private. “I have a six-year-old daughter.
He’s silent. Instead, he only stares at me. Is he surprised? Except there’s a slight clench to his jaw, so he’s angry? His expression is unreadable and a little unnerving. At this point, his silence says more than anything he could say with his words.
“Okay. I’ll take your silence as meaning this is over. Thank you. It was fun.” I spin on my heels and stomp away. After two steps, a hand wraps around my wrist, spinning me around.
“I’m sorry.” His eyes soften, pleading with mine.
“Sorry that this is over or sorry for…”
“Sorry for my silence. You caught me by surprise.”
“Either way, it doesn’t change anything. I have a kid and you don’t like kids. This whole thing we started should have never happened.” Immediately, all the walls around me and my heart rise. I was a fool to even get involved with someone like Trey, even if it was just sex.
“It’s not that I don’t like kids. Some of my best friends have kids and they’re the greatest things ever. I just have no plans to have any of my own. You having a daughter doesn’t change the fact that I like you. I enjoy what little time we’ve spend together, and I want to continue spending time with you. Even better if we take it outside the Porter’s parking lot.”
He grabs my hands and intertwines our fingers. It’s comforting and eases some of my reservations about him. He may have made a small hole in the wall I erected.
“So for today, you’ll go to your house, and I’ll go to mine. Then tomorrow we can do this all over again.”
I laugh. “I’m starting to think you like the chase more than you actually like me.”
“Don’t get me wrong, the chase is fun, but I know what’s waiting at the end will be worth it.”
A warm blush covers my cheeks. “Do you have a book of lines you memorize so you know exactly what to say and when to say it?”
“No. I actually have a tiny earpiece and Miles feeds me lines.” He holds a finger to his ear and pretends to look around.
I slap his chest. “You’re so full of it.”
“Yeah.” He places his hand on mine, holding it to his chest. “No one would buy that. Miles doesn’t have any lines.”
“As much as I would love to stay and chat with you in the parking lot. I do have to go.” I pull away, but Trey stops me.
“Ooor we could always do other things in the parking lot.” His eyebrow raises.
“Oh my god. You are relentless.”
He flashes me a dimpled smirk. “Okay. Okay. I guess I’ll let you go.” He releases my hand, and it slides down his chest.
“Have a good rest of your day.”
“Once I'm home, thinking about you, it will most definitely be good.” He winks.
Warmth spreads over my cheeks. I spin on my heel. Without looking back, I offer a wave over my head. If I see him, I won’t be able to resist jumping into his arms and kissing the hell out of him. So, I don’t. In fact, I rip open my car door and slam it closed so I don’t do just that. I reach over my shoulder and pull my seat belt, locking it in place to also prevent me from jumping out. It’s been years since I’ve felt anything remotely close to this and that scares me the most because I know how it ends.
After pulling out of the parking lot and onto the street, my grip on the steering wheel loosens. The physical distance from Trey is exactly what I need, so there isn’t a repeat of the parking lot romp. I glance in my rearview mirror as a late model pick-up truck pulls out behind me. Maybe I should say yes to a date with Trey. Would it be so bad? What am I thinking? Of course it would. Guys like him are a dime a dozen and the last thing I need is another broken heart.
Distracted from all my thoughts on Trey, I notice the truck is still following me several blocks later. With the tinted back window of my SUV, I can’t decipher if the truck is black or navy in color. Even from my side mirror the glare from the sun makes it indistinguishable. The hairs on my arms rise as a bead of sweat forms on my brow even though it’s a comfortable seventy degrees. I make a right turn and then another, the truck still trailing me, but this time they ride my bumper and then back off almost in a threatening manner. I make note of the missing passenger side mirror and missing license plate. My heart hammers in my chest as I swallow the giant lump in my throat.
There’s been a few times where I’ve encountered suspicious vehicles following me. Sometimes it’s been customers from the bar or leaving the parking lot of a store. I keep a bottle of mace in my glove compartment just in case. Thankfully, I’ve never had to use it, but it’s worth being proactive.
Blindly I pat the passenger seat for my phone, preparing myself to call the police over the bizarre driving behavior. When I make another right turn, instead of following me the truck continues straight. Another car passes me, blocking my view of the passing truck before it disappears behind a building. I exhale a deep breath. My paranoia about Trey has led to paranoia about everything else.