Loving Patience (Brook Cove)

Chapter 1PATIENCE

Chapter 1

PATIENCE

“Patience, you’re going to be late for work.” My mom’s voice carried up to my room from downstairs as I slid into my jeans and grabbed my shirt from the bed.

“Coming, Mom,” I yelled back, letting her know I was aware of what time it was and that I was going to be late again if I didn’t hurry up.

At twenty-one, the only thing I’m consistent at is being inconsistent. I’m easily distracted, which is why I’m always late anywhere I go. It’s part of the reason that I have a hard time maintaining any type of romantic relationship. I’m always on the go and anytime I date a guy, I get bored with him before it even comes close to us being intimate. So, I’m a twenty-one-year-old virgin who has no patience for anything, despite my name.

Grabbing my purse and my keys from my desk, I rushed downstairs. “Drive carefully,” my mom said, handing me my jacket that I’d left on the kitchen barstool the night before. “It’s drizzling out there, and don’t forget our new renter is coming in tonight, so you won’t be able to park in the garage.”

“Okay, Mom,” I called back to her as I flew out the back door and down the porch to my Jeep that was parked in the driveway. The weather was turning cold, and it wouldn’t be long until the first snow fell, and the summer tourists turned into ski bunnies trying to keep warm for the winter.

I pulled out of the driveway and headed toward town. A glance at the dashboard’s clock told me if I didn’t put a move on it, I was going to be late and possibly get another lecture from the boss.

I groaned, not wanting to hear it again. So, to avoid that outcome, I stepped on the gas a bit more firmly, even with the stop sign at the end of the road.

It’s not like the neighborhood we live in was crazy busy, and most of the time, I did a rolling stop when I turned onto the back highway, anyway. Nobody was ever there, so it helped shave a few more seconds off my travel time to Brook Cove Brewery.

I was about to turn when I noticed the bike that was heading for the same area of the road I was coming up to. “Crap,” I muttered, but I didn’t have enough time to actually stop. Instead, I gunned it, stepping heavier on the gas and flying past him to keep from running into him or him into me.

In my rearview mirror, I could see him slow down, but the helmet and glasses kept me from seeing his full expression. His body language was tense, though, and I couldn’t blame him. I knew I shouldn’t have run the sign, and he could have gotten hurt because of it. Biting my lip, I sheepishly waved an apology before I took my turn and headed to work.

Mystery motorcycle man was already forgotten.

***

“What can I get for you?” I asked as I approached the one table in the place that I really didn’t fucking want to be waiting on.

“A cold beer. Maybe it will be as frigid as you are.” My ex-boyfriend and his friends snickered as if he had just made the funniest joke in the world.

“And for you guys?” I asked his buddies, recognizing them from school. I made a point to ignore his joke as if it didn’t faze me and took the orders for the table.

“Frigid beers all around.”

I gave them a wooden smile even as they kept chuckling at their own jokes.

I headed back to the bar and to started filling my orders when the door opened, letting in the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen in my life. He had charcoal black hair and a firm jaw, showing off a glorious five o’clock shadow. I couldn’t see his eyes from across the room, but I knew they had to be beautiful, just like the rest of him.

“Who is that?” Haley, another server, asked as she walked behind the bar with me.

“I don’t know, but I guess we’re about to find out,” I muttered quietly, because the man in question was heading right toward me, his brows furrowed as he stomped his way across the room. Irritation and anger were written all over his face and body.

“You drive that Jeep outside?” he all but growled at me.

“Yes. Why?” Green. His eyes are green as hell and so damn angry they were practically on fire.

“Did you get your license in a cereal box, lady? You could have killed me.”

I flinched at his words as I realized who he was. “I’m so sorry,” I apologized quickly, feeling bad that he was mad enough to track me down to yell at me. Heat filled my cheeks when I realized we were drawing an audience. “Please, have a seat and I’ll get you a drink on me,” I offered with a hesitant smile.

He frowned at me. “Are you even old enough to be working in a bar?”

“Look, I admit I ran the damn stop sign and cut you off. It was careless of me, but I was running late, and everyone runs that stop sign because nobody is ever out that way. Everyone knows to yield on the opposite road.”

“The stop sign was on your side, not mine.”

“I’m aware of that fact. As I already explained, I was running late and apologized.” I put my hands on my hips, my voice rising in volume slightly. “I even waved an apology when I realized I cut you off.”

“I saw. Good thing you apologized. That makes everything better when you damn near kill someone.” His voice was harsh and irritated.

I sucked in a deep breath to keep my patience, but failed miserably. “Do you want me to buy you an apology drink or not? I have to get back to work.”

“I’ll buy my own damn drink,” he grumbled, taking a seat at the bar while still glaring at me.

I picked up the four shots I just made for Grant and his friends, then grabbed their beers. I hated dealing with him and his asshole brigade. I wasn’t sure what the hell I ever saw in him, but I had to suck it up and wait on their table. Between my ex and his friends, and the gorgeous grumpy guy that I almost killed yelling at me, my night was off to a wonderful start. I rolled my eyes at my own sarcasm.

“What are these?” Grant smirked when I set down the shots in front of the four of them, along with their beers.

“These are special shots just for you guys. They’re called Cocksuckers. I figured you boys would like them since y’all came in being dicks tonight.” Delivering my perfectly timed barb, I turned to walk away.

A hand shot out and grabbed my arm, stopping me from getting away from the table. “You fucking cunt. You think you are going to get away with saying something like that to us?”

Yeah. He was definitely not one of my finest decisions ever made. We went on three dates, and he was expecting sex. When I broke things off with him, he took it as a personal insult that he couldn’t get in my panties. I later found out he’d been telling everyone I was a frigid bitch, so he broke it off. I never bothered to correct them.

“Let go of her,” a deep baritone voice spoke over my shoulder. I knew who it was, and dammit, I didn’t want to feel the hairs raise up on the back of my neck from his nearness.

“Stay out of this, asshole. She insulted me and my friends,” Grant said, glaring at the man over my shoulder.

I flinched as Grant’s grip tightened even more around my arm. There’d be bruises in the morning where his fingers were gripping around my upper arm.

“I’m going to do more than insult you if you don’t let go of her right now,” the man behind me spoke up again, making my stomach clench as warmth and awareness spread through me.

Grant must’ve seen something in the man’s gaze because his grip loosened, and he let go.

“This isn’t over, Patience,” he muttered as he turned to leave. His friends all followed, leaving the untouched shots on the table. I didn’t say a word about them paying their tab. I was just glad they were gone. I would gladly let the money come from my damn paycheck to be rid of them, though I’m not sure my boss felt that same relief with the way she was glaring at me.

I took a deep breath, knowing I needed to turn and face my rescuer, who also happened to be the man who was justifiably mad at me just a few moments ago. Sucking up every bit of courage I could muster, even though inside I was still shaking, I turned to look at him, ignoring the way my stomach flipped from the way he was looking at me. It’s like he could see through me, and it was unnerving.

“Thank you for stepping in. Please, take a seat at the bar. I’ll buy you that drink… I insist,” I add, knowing he was going to refuse if I didn’t.