Soaring and Sweet (HOTSHOTS #3)

Chapter 1

1

CHERRY

Monday

“Cherry-baby…”

“Oh man,” Cherry muttered under her breath as she turned in the ticket to the kitchen window for the corner table’s order. This restaurant was a knock-off of Hooters and located in Mayport, Florida – not far from the naval base up the road. It was always busy, full of guys who were ready to blow their paychecks just so they could ogle a few girls, trying to pick them up for a date.

Honestly, working here was almost more than she could handle. That mop bucket alone had to be a health violation, and the sexual harassment was rampant in this place – and condoned by management. After all, it took her two interviews to get hired by the sleazeball… but it was a job.

She had money every night from tips, got a small check ever Friday to help pay for the room she was renting from one of the girls that worked here, and it was Florida.

The Sunshine State - and distinctly not home.

New Jersey was bitterly cold, taxes were high, and every time she turned around – it was like life was kicking her in the teeth. Not much has changed except for the sunshine, she thought wryly as someone shouted, waving her over to their table for attention. I’m just a little more numb to what life has decided to dump on my plate now.

“Cherry! Hurry your butt up and hustle, woman…” her boss snapped angrily from the bar, waving his hand dramatically. Some of the younger sailors loved seeing a woman run over to help them like she was some sort of servant to them.

Ha!

She’d ditch this place when she was ready to move on, just like she’d always done before. It just didn’t suit her at this time because she was scraping by and had experienced soooo much worse in her life. Right now, she could handle a little laughing or humiliation in front of her customers, because they usually tipped even more because of guilt or because it made them feel like big men.

Whatever…

“What can I get you handsome boys,” Cherry said simply, not bothering to look up as she started to jot down the table number on the next sheet in her pad.

“We’re men, not boys…” a guy called out obnoxiously, causing her to look up – and smile. Those brown BCGs, or birth control glasses, were obviously not deterring this ‘boy’s’ ego in the slightest. Nope. This guy was doubling down on the whopping case of ‘little man syndrome’ that was in full force within this douchebag wearing a pair of paint-stained coveralls with his name stenciled on the pocket.

“My mistake – and you are absolutely right. This is a table full of hot, hungry sailors. I bet you guys ,” she stressed flirtatiously and saw them all pat each other as they grinned, thinking they had the higher ground with her. “I just bet you guys rode here together to see little ol’ me. Mmm? Who’s my handsome driver?”

“I am,” BCG-boy announced, and she nodded, looking up from the table out the window, pausing.

Now that’s a man… she thought distractedly as she ogled the gorgeous man slowly walking toward the building across the parking lot with another guy. The two were obviously talking, and the ‘Tall Drink of Water’ was checking his cell phone before slipping it back into the pocket of his uniform.

“You’re the designated driver tonight?” she said, glancing at the door to see the man walk in, wondering if they would seat him in her area since they were already short-staffed tonight… again . She had worked here for a month, and it seemed like they were always short-staffed.

“Heck no, baby. Nobody drives my Jeep but me, and I’m sure not here to sip on the water sitting on the table. Get me a Bud Light, woman – and hurry.”

Get it yourself, you pathetic excuse for a human.

“Of course,” Cherry smiled brightly, slapping the fake grin on her face and hesitated as her name was shouted by her boss once more.

“Cherry-baby, hustle-up. You’ve got another table!”

“Coming, George…” she called over her shoulder and quickly took the orders for the other three sailors. “Let me get your beers, and I’ll be back to take your order.”

“Bring your phone number too!” BCG hollered loudly at her back, causing the other guys to laugh and make lewd comments about her.

Like water off a duck’s back, Cherry.

Rolling her shoulders, taking a deep breath, she approached the newest set of customers – her ‘Tall Drink of Water’ and some other guy. Passing the bar, she told George the order for the other table.

“Four Bud Lights, and I’ll be back in a second.”

“You better get your butt in gear because I’m not doing any credits tonight for your screw-ups. It’s coming out of your check, do you hear me.”

“Then where’s my help tonight?” she said bluntly.

“Where’s your uniform top?” he countered, sneering at her. “You show the cleavage, then you get bigger tips. I’ve told you that three times already…”

“It’s got a stain,” she muttered, looking away. And it’s indecent!

“Wash it tonight and be in uniform tomorrow. Knockers! Remember? We sell knockers, beer, and wings here. What’s my motto - ‘ Tits get tips ’!”

“Ahhh, yes,” she whispered, turning around to move to the booth where that man who had caught her eye was watching her now. “Wings and other ‘things,’ you sick pervert…” she muttered and sighed, taking another breath before plastering on a smile.

“Hey guys,” Cherry said cheerfully, smiling at the two men who were now seated in her area. She was trying not to ogle the gorgeous man – and struggling. “What can I get you boys tonight?”

“Yo! Dumb girl!” came a shout from three tables away as BCG stood up, pointing and hollering at her. “What kind of moron doesn’t learn? I already told you that we’re a bunch of men. You see this uniform? This means that I’m a man ,” BCG cried out, literally banging on his chest before her very eyes. “A man who is serving his country and…”

“Pipe down, nugget,” the man said bluntly, staring him down and not moving a beat as the other guy at his table just put his head down, chuckling like he knew a secret or something. “Just because you are half drunk already doesn’t mean you need to make all of us sailors look bad along with you.”

“I’ll handle it,” Cherry whispered under her breath, mortified and embarrassed that this was happening in front of the most gorgeous guy she had ever seen in her life. “What can I get you?”

“Our beers!” the other table hollered peevishly, and she rolled her eyes only to hear Mr. Gorgeous chuckle easily.

“Sorry that he’s being obnoxious,” she mumbled. “Coke, Sprite, 7-Up? Do you want a beer or…”

“CHERRY, TABLE SEVEN!” her boss yelled angrily, and she closed her eyes, dragging in a breath, trying to keep from screaming or losing her absolute cool. She flashed a smile again, trying to keep from being impatient or snapping at anyone, and nodded.

“Two of whatever you have on draft,” Mr. Gorgeous said simply, watching her with a curious look in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Who isn’t?” she replied glibly, moving away to go turn in the drink order – only to bump into George, who was charging in her direction.

“Oh!” she grunted and felt a horrified pop as well as something cool against her chest. Oh no, I need to get to a bathroom.

“I TOLD YOU TO GET TO TABLE SEVEN, YOU LAZY GIRL!” George snarled at her, grabbing her by the upper arm and pulling her toward the other table in front of everyone only to hear a commotion behind her.

“Orion! Orion, dude, sit down!”

Cherry glanced over her shoulder of the arm that was being gripped painfully as she was pulled away, only to see the man nearly upsetting the table with an irate expression on his face as his friend grabbed his arm, saying something to him, and he begrudgingly sat back down.

That hurt, she thought as George shook her arm, degrading her in front of the table full of sailors.

“We’re shorthanded tonight, so I’ll be helping this one out since she’s slow on the uptake, apparently. You had four beers, right? How about an order of free mozzarella sticks for your long wait.”

Wait, what?

“They just ordered those beers,” Cherry stammered. “That’s not coming out of my check, is it?”

“We’ll talk later,” George snapped, moving to fetch the four beers as she stood there.

“We can talk now ,” she said bluntly, not backing down. “I’m not paying for this twerp’s cheese sticks when it’s been less than five minutes.”

“If you don’t stop sassing me, woman, you’ll be buying cheese sticks for a few more tables,” George snapped, slamming down a bowl of peanuts before plucking four overfull beers off a tray. “Now, you fellas, just tell Cherry-baby what you want for dinner, and we’ll get it to you quickly.”

She bit her tongue, trying to keep from losing her temper. This job paid for her food and board at the apartment – and it was the only place she could afford right now. Placing the order, she glanced at Mr. Gorgeous and saw him watching her again, his expression unreadable.

This is so embarrassing, she thought, horrified and rushing around to wait on the tables, gather the food, run for extra napkins as they requested and literally bumped into her boss again. That cold feeling was growing, and it was only a matter of time.

Moving to the last table where the two men were talking, Mr. Gorgeous and whoever the other dude was, she saw the man get up and leave as the breathtaking man sat there, looking at her.

“Oh no,” she whispered, mortified. “I am so sorry. Are y’all leaving? I’ll go get the beers now and…”

“Stop,” he said simply, looking at her, and she froze. Was he about to yell at her, too? Somehow, the thought of that hurt worse than anything, and there was a coolness to his face that was unreadable. “Sit down.”

“I can’t…”

“CHERRY!” her boss yelled at that moment, almost in support of those two whispered words, as she looked at the handsome sailor regretfully.

“I’m not going to lie. If it was any other place, any other time, or if I didn’t need this job so bad, I absolutely would sit down with you.”

“Really…” there was a flat tone to his voice. It wasn’t a question but more like a statement. “You’ve got something on your shirt.”

“Dude,” she said nervously, already aware of the impending doom that was going to lead to her getting fired and laughed off the planet. “I put the ‘desperate’ in desperation since I was eighteen, and this is just another typical Monday for me. Don’t leave, because then it gives my boss an excuse to yank something else out of my paycheck. I’ll get your drinks and…”

“How desperate are you – because I am too. I think we should talk.”

“Excuse me?”

“CHERRY – GET YOUR ROTTEN, LAZY BUTT BACK OVER HERE AND…”

“Very desperate,” she whispered tearfully, utterly torn. “I hate this place, hate this job, and my bra is leaking. I’m gonna get canned, and I need this job to keep me eating – and I like to eat, buddy - a lot. Okay?”

“Your what is leaking?” the handsome man chuckled, smiling for the first time since arriving, and Cherry felt lower than a speck of dirt.

“Look, not all of us grow up all sexy and gifted, okay? When you are a flat-chested girl in a big-boob-world, it’s tough. And if you need a job where they want you to have big bazingas – it’s even worse. You improvise and get creative to get ahead. I interviewed twice for this job because I have zero skills doing anything else other than waiting tables so, I improvised,” she admitted in a hushed voice.

“You… improvised?”

“CHERRY? CHERRRRRY !”

“I gotta go, mister,” she whispered tearfully, looking over her shoulder. “Let me go get your beers and…”

“How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-seven – and I’ve really got to yank this thing out before…” she hissed desperately, waving her hand in front of her in a panic.

“CHERRY!” her boss screamed, riddling her back with a handful of peanut shells that he threw at her. She flinched because her life was falling apart right now before her eyes, and she met the beautiful man’s hazel eyes as he stood up.

“You’re done – NOW,” he uttered bluntly – and Cherry flipped out.

“I’m so sorry. Look, whatever you need is on me tonight. Just please don’t get me fired and…I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, okay? I love Florida, and I’m not ready to bail on this town yet. I need gas money or something to…”

Her boss was stomping in her direction and Cherry was caught between the gorgeous man who was getting ready to leave – and certain abusive Gloom-and-Doom, who paid her paycheck. Her heart was slamming in her chest as fear made her breakout in a cold sweat, looking over her shoulder at the pudgy man coming in her direction like a charging freight train.

“WHY YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE…”

“Cherry is quitting – right now!”

Those five words hung in the air. Her mouth dropped open in shock as her head swung around to look at the handsome stranger in disbelief. She met his hazel eyes and saw something flicker in his gaze as he stood there against the oncoming storm of abuse that was about to be unleashed in her direction.

To her utter shock and disbelief, the man held out his hand toward her like she was some fancy lady at one of those Victorian balls… and she stared, her eyes stinging, wanting to believe this was really happening.

“Am I high?” she whispered, dumbfounded – only to see him cock his head to the side warily.

“Do you do drugs?”

“I never touch the stuff – nor do I drink. It’s poison.”

“And we’re both really desperate?”

“Maybe it’s another ‘d’ word like ‘deranged’…” she quipped nervously as it felt like everything was slowing down around her. The man’s lip lifted slightly as he held her gaze, his hand waiting outstretched between them.

“CHERRY! WHY ARE YOU HANGING OUT…”

“I quit,” she whispered, not looking away from the man before her as she put her hand, her faith, and her very life in that man’s kind hand – ignoring the pain, chaos, and destructive words that were flung in her direction. She was taking a chance, a blind chance, at whatever this guy was offering and hoped she wasn’t going from bad to worse. “Oh God, please don’t give up on me now…”

“Let’s go somewhere and talk – away from this.”

“Who are you?”

“A man who needs a really big favor from you.”

“I don’t sleep around.”

“I’m not asking you for that,” he replied and hesitated. “Please?”

Cherry nodded, feeling fear choke her as she glanced back at George, who was looking at her beyond livid and utterly shocked at what was happening. She didn’t say another word to the hateful man, as she was busy uttering soooo many silent prayers in her head right now. Instead, she walked with this stranger – tugging him around the bar and grabbing her purse out of her locker.

She had her wits, a can of mace, and about thirteen dollars if she needed to make a break for it. Maybe she could sell her spare tire and jack to a pawn shop or figure out a way to get to the next town or beg her way into another pathetic job nearby. Her mind was racing as she walked into the parking lot with this stranger – only to see him pull his phone out, glancing at it again.

“Do you have a car in the parking lot?” he said simply, gesturing his hand in a slight wave.

“This is crazy, you know that? I don’t even know your name and…”

“I’m Evan – and it’s going to get a little crazier.”

“What? How?”

“Follow me, or we can ride together and come back to get your car shortly after this place closes for the night.”

“CHERRY – YOU UNGRATEFUL…” her boss was screaming from the front doors, and she knew exactly why he was mad. They had been shorthanded and were even shorter now since she’d quit with no notice. He was going to have to work, and she had the upper hand – given to her by this stranger, Evan.

“We can come back for it,” she said quickly, needing to distance herself from this place. If Evan turned out to be a creep, she could make a break for it and call the police – if her phone was charged.

“Good. Hop in,” he said, unlocking the sedan and glancing at his phone one more time. “Let’s go.”

“Is something wrong? You keep checking your phone.”

“Yep,” he said quietly. “My best-laid plans have unraveled again, just like the story of my life. I need to get home, and we can talk,” he explained as he started the car and put it into drive the moment her door closed. She hadn’t even buckled yet, and they were already pulling onto the main road that ran northbound to the base.

“Wait, we’re going to your house? I said that I wasn’t sleeping with you…”

“I said that I wasn’t asking you to either,” he interrupted, looking at her with disbelief in his gaze. “Trust me. I learned my lesson about six and a half years ago, and I’m not sleeping with anyone anytime soon.”

“Well, that was oddly specific,” she muttered under her breath. She heard his slight chuckle as she shifted awkwardly. The coldness was leaking, and she wasn’t going to be able to hide this much longer. Sighing despondently, she reached into the front of her shirt and yanked out the sandwich baggie.

“What are you doing?” Evan started, looking shocked and nervous. “We’re pulling up to the main gate, and if that’s drugs or…”

“It’s pudding, okay?” she snapped, holding up the bag and squirting a stream of chocolate pudding into her mouth to prove her point. The Ziploc bag had busted at the corner almost like a piping bag used to decorate a cake. “I’m flat-chested and couldn’t get a job there without tits. So, do your thing and ignore my homemade ones. Desperate times call for desperate measures all the freakin’ time – and you just gotta roll with the punches. A box of pudding is ninety-nine cents whereas a boobjob is expensive enough to have a comma in it. I’m street smart - and rolling, dodging, and weaving as fast as I can, okay?”

Evan stared at her in disbelief as a small corner of his lip curled and amazement beamed from his eyes.

“You are incredible,” he chuckled.

“Street savvy,” she countered, shrugging and yanking the other pudding pack from her other cup. “I mean, when you are missing the good stuff, and you want it bad enough, you just find a way. It’s just me. I’ve had to deal with crap my entire life, and I’m tired of suffering, so I find a way around the screwy unspoken rules society has in place.”

“Wow,” Evan chuckled, showing his I.D. to the guard as they rolled forward, pulling onto the property of the naval base. “I think my guardian angel might be watching out for me.”

“Dude, if you think I’m what your guardian angel put in your path – Tweety-bird is playing a sick joke on you,” she said flatly, trying to keep the rush of pleasure from her voice as she chanced a glance at him. “You live here on base?”

“I do,” he replied, pulling into the driveway of an older, very rectangular-looking home with a cinderblock car patio enclosure to the side of it. The place was very nice, clean, and kinda homey in a strangely functional way. There were no frivolities on the house, no décor of any kind, and she saw the front door open as the porch light turned on.

“Remember in the Bible, how God said, ‘ Go and be fruitful’ ?” Evan whispered – and there was so much tenderness in his voice as he spoke those strange words that would have normally made a stranger think something was definitely odd. She turned to look at him and saw his gaze fixated on the house as a boy came running out in his pajamas, holding a mangy-looking dinosaur plush toy.

“Evan…?” she began, totally confused as he turned to her, nodding and clearing his throat as the boy came up to the window and pressed his nose against the glass, pushing it upward, giving her a perfect view of his sinus cavity – just like any other mischievous boy… and heard Evan’s chuckle of embarrassment.

“That’s my ‘fruit’ – and I really think we can help each other,” he began, opening his car door. “C’mon and let me introduce you – and we’ll eat something here instead. No pressure and no yelling, I promise.”

Completely stunned, unsure what to say or do, she watched as Evan got out of the car, shut the door, and scooped up the boy, putting him on his hip. Tiny little arms wrapped around his Daddy’s neck as he put his head on the man’s shoulder, hugging him.

The hottest man in the world… was a dad – and he needed her help?

Cherry swallowed, opening the car door.