Chapter 6 Sutton
Sutton
I push my way through the back door and slip to my booth. My booth. There’s no reserved sign. There’s nothing blocking others from sitting here. But every day when I come, it’s vacant, waiting for me.
My eyes immediately find Nikki as she moves around the counter, filling coffee cups.
Like the stalker I am, I watch her for a moment.
She has her hair down today, which is unusual, since it’s always up.
She usually wears it in this cute clip that has bees on it.
Three of them. I know because I’ve counted.
It’s a little quirky and always catches my eye.
Probably because I’m highly allergic, so bees are something I notice.
But today, her hair is flowing in soft waves around her face, just past her shoulders, and I’m almost breathless at how beautiful she is.
“Fuck.” I rub my eyes, obsessing over a woman I barely know.
When she spots me, I tilt my head, confused. She looks different, but I can’t pinpoint why. It’s more than the hair. Her face is beautiful, as always, yet slightly unfamiliar. As she walks toward me, my eyes stay on her, searching, and then I balk.
“What’s that on your face?” My anger is instant. It always has been since I was a kid. I’m surprised I haven’t been in more fistfights in LA since I’ve been there. Although, I only get upset when something happens to people I care about, and in LA, people generally only care for themselves.
As a kid, it was always about protecting my mom. But now, as I look at Nikki, I see she has a black eye, and that instinct rises to the surface in a brand-new way. Her skin is soft blue and a little swollen, her hair covering it mostly. I knew something was amiss.
“It’s nothing.” She fills my cup with hot coffee without me even asking.
“It sure doesn’t look like nothing.” My shoulders are tight, my jaw clenched as I stand. I haven’t felt like this in a long time, but a burning rage fills me and runs rapidly through my limbs, so strongly that I need to move.
“I said it’s nothing.” Her voice is a mere whisper, and she won't meet my eyes. I fist my hands before I lift one, brushing her hair from her face gently, getting a full view that has me murderous. She looks at me, wide-eyed. I haven’t touched her before, but now that my hand brushes over her skin, I know she’s as delicate as she looks.
“What happened?” I pull in a sharp breath to calm myself. The urge to hit someone pulses through my bones.
“Sutton.” Her eyes hold a combination of fear and fire, a combustible mix, but hearing my name from her sweet lips nearly has me buckling.
“What happened?” I grit out again, my hand still in her silky hair.
The diner is busy, but everyone is too into their own conversations to worry about ours.
Which is a good thing, because I’m going to keep asking until she tells me.
All the other fuckers needing their caffeine fix can wait.
She must see the commitment in my eyes because she relents.
“I fell.”
“This isn’t a fall.” My response is immediate. I see the pattern on her skin. A hand did this. She takes a deep breath, her resolve falling to the wayside.
“Fine. I got mugged.” She puts the coffeepot on the table and looks at me with exasperation.
“Mugged? In Whispers?” I’m in disbelief. Sure, there’s petty crime everywhere. But here? In Whispers?
“Yeah, out of all the places, it happens to me here. They… saw the tip you left me.” Her words have a resigned feeling to them. I don’t like it. I see the kindness in her eyes. I see the love she has for her boy. As I look at her, I register what she said.
“It’s my fault?” My eyes widen, anger now aimed at myself.
“It isn’t your fault.” She shakes her head, looking around quickly.
I move my hand, gliding it across her jaw and gripping her chin lightly.
The way her hair falls back, I notice up close that it’s a little lighter at the roots, so she isn’t naturally dark.
As I tilt her face up to mine, her lips part in surprise, and I drink her in.
The way her lips are plump, her neck curves, her eyes gazing up into mine.
“Who was it?” I demand as softly as I can.
“I don’t know.” She’s lying.
I lift an eyebrow and press on. “Give me a name.”
“I don’t know their names.”
“Their? More than one?” Fuck, did she get completely ambushed?
“About four of them. Those same guys who come in here. You know, they always sit at the front.” Her eyes flick to my hand, like she might be uneasy, and I pull it away.
“What did the sheriff say?” I assume he was here. Someone saw it. Helped her.
“I… I didn’t report it.”
“But who helped you?” I’m confused, wondering why whomever came to her aid didn’t call the police.
“No one. I can take care of myself. I put cold water on it, then dreamed of peanut butter cups because eating them always makes me feel better.” The stubbornness in her expression tells me she can, but the bruise on her cheek tells a different story.
“You need to report it.” I’m too commanding, almost towering over her, but my protective instincts are pinging off the charts.
“They’re customers. I don’t want to bring negativity to Rochelle or the diner.”
Shaking my head, I frown. “Rochelle would be the first person to kick them out for touching you. You should report it.”
“Not happening.” She scoffs at me like I’m being unreasonable.
“Why not?” I squint, confused as to why a young woman wouldn’t. Especially since Rochelle is married to the sheriff.
“For the same reason you can’t do or say anything about it either.”
I stall. Her words make me pause briefly, confirming she’s running or hiding from something or someone too.
“Oh, I’ll fucking do something about it,” I mutter gruffly.
“What? So you’ll go and get the bad guys, and as soon as you do, they’ll talk.
If they don’t already know who you are, then they will the moment you show your face.
I don’t need eyeballs on me and neither do you.
” Grabbing the coffeepot, she walks away, and I stand frozen to the spot, feeling bereft from her absence before I slump into the booth.
She’s right, of course, but that doesn’t make me any less angry.
I think about calling Jackson from my security team.
He and his team are on vacation right now, with me here, not needing them in Whispers.
I could have them scouring this town to find the men within a few hours, and then I’d show these guys exactly what happens if they go near Nikki again.
But that would blow my cover. As soon as anyone in my security team moves, they’ll be followed and they sure as hell would look out of place here in Whispers. The reason I’ve been so successful at not being noticed is because I’m on my own; I blend into the background.
I’m intrigued by her words. She doesn’t need eyeballs on her. The mystery around this woman thickens, and while I appreciate the need for privacy, I sure do want to know more about her.
Frustration nips at my shoulders from not jumping in my truck and driving around town to look for them.
I think I know the guys she’s talking about.
I see them in here. Nice as pie to Rochelle, but as soon as Rochelle is out of sight, they carry on.
But she’s right. They’d have no problem blowing my cover.
Not only would they go straight to the media, making up some lies, no doubt, but if I’m found, it’ll ruin the entire concept of the surprise release I’m doing with Whiteman’s.
The aim being that the launch coincides with me outing myself, creating the perfect media storm to promote the new whiskey.
The one they’re already pulling together, with photoshoots happening next week and commercials being filmed not long after.
I grip the coffee cup so hard I’m amazed it doesn’t shatter in my hand.
I won’t go looking for them, but if they step in my path, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop myself.
I grew up in a single mom household and I saw the struggles she had.
I don’t remember my dad, but for a while, there were different men who would come and go.
I unfortunately saw my mom with bruises a few times.
She always thought Sawyer and I were too young to remember.
But I remember. I remember her trying to cover them with makeup.
I remember seeing her cheek tinted blue just like Nikki’s.
I’m still seething as my cell vibrates, and I pull it out of my pocket. Bobby. His timing is fucking impeccable. I decide to answer him today, for no other reason than to try to get my mind on other things.
“Bobby,” I murmur quietly. There isn’t anyone around who can hear me. The locals who are here are all people I see frequently, who keep my secret and leave me be.
“Sutton! My man, how are you?” I hear him driving. No doubt with the roof of his convertible down, the LA sun beating down. The wind in the background gives it away.
“What’s up?” Taking a breath, I feel my shoulders lower slightly.
“Are you coming back soon? I have so many things lined up, it’s insane. I can have you scheduled well into next year. The dollars are adding up each and every day, my man!” I’m not his man, and I hate it when he calls me that. We’re not best friends at a frat house, sitting around a keg.
“Not for a while, Bobby.” I keep my guard up, knowing I can’t tell him anything.
The minute he knows where I am, he’ll turn up on my doorstep.
That little thought brings my mind to Griffin.
The country's best builder, who works out of Whispers for the most part. Sawyer introduced me, and now we’re working on the plans for my new home.
It may be a snap decision, but I fell in love with this town the minute they kept my presence a secret.
You can’t pay for that kind of loyalty. I know I’m on borrowed time, but the fact that I’ve been here for a while now and that hasn’t been leaked to the media is unheard of.
Clooney has his mansion in Como, surrounded by the lake so no one can reach him.
I’m building mine right here in Whispers because the town is my security.
In fact, I’ll be right next door to Sawyer, because what are family for if you can’t live next door?
And the only job I’ve had lately is being his babysitter. Kevin and Noah are my two best friends.
“What do you mean, man! You need to get back here. The studios are calling me every day. I have so many scripts on my desk, I can barely see it, and the international models all come in next week for the big lingerie show they do all year… if you know what I mean.”
Yeah, I know what he means. Once upon a time, I would be up for all that.
Jumping from movie set to movie set, working my ass off, early mornings and long days before I would take off on my private jet for a week, sit on a beach somewhere, with a tall glamorous model with legs for days.
They were all nice girls, but none of them were really my type.
We were both there for a good time, not a long time, and our endgame was always the same.
Be flirty on the beach together, paparazzi can get their shots as we became a hot topic for a few weeks, keeping our stars rising before the next movie started.
It was great to increase my profile, but it left me feeling empty.
It kept me busy but taught me that everyone’s after me for something, and that something wasn’t the real me.
“Not anytime soon. I’m enjoying the downtime.”
I hear him scoff before he collects himself.
“You wait too long, my man, and no one will want you when you come back.” His words are spoken with humor, but they’re meant to sting.
And once upon a time, they would’ve. But I’m older now; I know better.
I’ve been in this game a long time, too long probably.
Now in my late thirties, I need something new, something fresh.
“Yeah, I’ll take my chances.” While I know any publicity is good publicity, I also know that a person or brand can become oversaturated. Me being away a little while has already sent the industry into a meltdown. When they find me, it’s going to explode.
“Why don’t you tell me where you are? I can come see you, talk to you, show you what’s on offer?”
I look up and spot Nikki by my side. I haven’t asked her to, but she delivers one of Rochelle’s delicious chicken pies, sliding it in front of me with a genuine smile, and I soak it up.
I eat these almost every day. They’re delicious.
The pie is steamy hot, smells amazing, as does Nikki.
Her floral aroma fills my senses, making me feel like I’m on solid ground for the first time in a long time.
I notice she brushes her hair back around her ear, the thick, glossy tendrils falling again almost immediately before she retreats.
I watch her go. Her looks are what captured me from the first moment I saw her, but our snippets of conversation are what keep me coming back.
What I really need to do, though, is get my head out of my ass and start concentrating on things other than her.
My life is crazy and trying to get to know someone and dragging them into my world is not fair to them.
“Sutton? Sutton? Are you there?” Bobby’s annoying voice jolts me from my daydreaming.
“Not just yet, Bobby. I’m not ready.” I end the call, throwing my cell on the table and grabbing my fork. Looking up, I spot Nikki again. She gives me her little smile, and Bobby becomes a distant memory.
The best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. And now I’m hungry, for more than just chicken pie.