Chapter Four
I t took a little elbow grease, but Badlands had been restored to normal. Well, almost normal. Wolfe still had a tall ladder out and was replacing the ruined security cameras around the room.
Livia sat on the bar, taking a break from her whirlwind morning and watching him.
Her stare roamed up and down the SEAL’s body from his work boots to his hair that had air-dried into a swoop that kept falling across his forehead when he worked.
Occasionally, he’d shake it out of his eyes. And every single time, Livia felt her fingers fold in a fist, fighting against the urge to go over and push it away for him.
“I’m glad to have new cameras—and locks too. But I still say you’re overreacting,” she called out.
He grunted and angled the camera to point toward the center of the room. Then he climbed off the ladder with a grace most big men didn’t possess.
When he started toward her, Livia braced herself to jump off the bar top. But she was no runner.
As he swaggered across the freshly mopped floor, a small flutter hit her core. If he wasn’t such a big alpha-hole, he would be good-looking. Hot, even.
Okay, really hot.
She gripped the edge of the bar, forcing herself not to wiggle.
He stopped in front of her, his face on a level with hers. “You really don’t believe this break-in could be the result of you shooting that guy.”
She cocked her head, swiping her thick hair over one shoulder. “Not likely.”
“You’re cute.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I told you, I’m not cute. I’m mean. A badass.”
Something in his eyes shifted, but she didn’t have time to analyze the change because a knock sounded at the back door.
She moved to push off the bar, but he planted himself in front of her. “That will be my waitress. I have to let her in.”
“I am the only person opening a door around here.”
His deep, commanding tone washed over her…and then the absolute worst thing happened.
Her nipples shriveled into hard points.
Before she could gather her wits or question what the hell that was, he sauntered off to open the door.
Low voices sounded as Wolfe had a conversation with her waitress. There was no telling what he’d say to her.
With a sigh, Livia leaped off the bar to rescue her staff from Wolfe’s egomaniac ways.
Melanie, her daytime waitress, was staring at Wolfe like he was a slice of cake and it was her birthday. At Livia’s entrance, she shifted her gaze away from the SEAL’s hot body. A flush climbed her cheeks and even spread into her hairline, drawn back in a ponytail for work.
“Hi, Livia. You didn’t tell me Badlands got a new bouncer.”
She darted a glance at Wolfe. “It’s a new development.”
So are these hard nipples.
Shut up, body! I am in control here.
But are you?
Bringing her own mind to heel, Livia bobbed her head. “Do you want to get started by stocking the bar?”
Wolfe cleared his throat.
Livia swung her stare to his.
“Are you going to tell her about—”
“About that new whiskey shipment we just got in? I was just about to tell her.” Giving him a pointed look to convey that he should keep his mouth shut about the break-in, she tipped her head at Melanie. “Let me show you where I stacked the crates.”
As she walked away, she swore she felt Wolfe’s gaze burning into her.
When she and the waitress were in the stockroom, Melanie opened her eyes wide. “The new bouncer is…just…wow.”
Seeking to get her employee’s mind off the man who would not be sticking around Badlands—and her own mind off him too—she waved at the crates stacked in a corner.
“What did you say his name is again?”
“Uh…Wolfe.”
“Damn. He even has a hot name.”
“Why don’t you get started on the bar?” Before Melanie could add to Livia’s already overactive awareness of Wolfe, she left her to the whiskey.
When she returned to the bar, she found the SEAL back on the ladder, this time in another corner. She busied herself by cleaning glasses, but Melanie interrupted when she dragged a crate behind the bar to stock the new whiskey.
“Just wow,” she said again in a loud whisper.
“Stop looking at him! You’re only making him more full of himself!”
A snort sounded from near the ceiling, where Wolfe was hanging a camera.
“Well, he is handy. And all glisteny. He looks hot up there on the ladder. Maybe he needs a drink.”
“Somebody save me,” Livia muttered to herself.
Another snort came, louder this time.
“I wouldn’t kick him out of my bed for eating crackers.”
At that moment, Wolfe turned his head, giving Livia a perfect view of his chiseled profile—and his cocky smirk.
Then to her shock and chagrin, he grabbed the wood beam that spanned the bar and performed a series of pullups.
His strong body hitching up and down, up and down, up and down.
She watched him go. Melanie’s head bobbed with him.
When he planted his feet on the step of the ladder again, Livia waved a hand as if shooing off a horsefly. A horse’s ass, more like.
“Why are guys so dramatic?”
“He’s pretty perfect.” Melanie wore a silly smile.
“He’s not my type.”
“Honey, he’s everyone’s type.”
“Get back to work!”
Melanie laughed to herself as she continued stocking alcohol. Livia needed to do some bookwork, but she didn’t trust Wolfe not to blurt out all the troubles to her employee. And rumors in Eden were like a plague of locusts—they overtook the town in minutes. The last thing she needed was word to get out about the break-in or Wolfe’s reason for being here.
She couldn’t let word get around that she’d shot that man. Only Ivy and Meadow Gracey, Colton, Hunter and Wolfe knew about it. Colton mentioned speaking to the local police department about it, but she hadn’t heard of it happening, and no cops had come to speak to her.
Suddenly, Wolfe moved behind the counter with her.
“Run out of places to do pullups?”
His lips quirked. The carved line in his cheek also caused small crinkles to appear at the corner of his eyes.
Her stomach flipped and butterflies fluttered around.
“I’m installing a camera back here. To watch the register.”
“If you must. When you’re done, you can go back to the ranch.” She stood back, overseeing the work. After all, if he was making improvements to her bar, she should be aware of the quality of work. Livia didn’t do anything halfway.
At this moment, she was throwing her all into being irritated with the show-off SEAL who insisted on guarding her life.
* * * * *
Wolfe had been showing off, but only to get a rise out of Livia. He’d heard every whisper between her and her waitress about him. While the waitress seemed to like what she saw, he was more interested in Livia’s thoughts about him.
She had a bad opinion of him and everything he did. But each minute he spent in her company, he liked her more.
Whether she was polishing shot glasses or sweeping up broken glass, she did it with an ounce of spunk that did more than catch his eye.
It riveted him.
While he worked, she moved behind the bar, tidying shelves that were already tidy. And making it impossible for him not to notice how her body moved.
His mind shot back to their late-night encounter in the kitchen. How she looked in that skimpy, girly nightie bent over in front of the refrigerator.
He’d been knotted up ever since, but when she darted back and forth in front of him, moving a stack of freshly folded bar towels to another location, his body reacted.
In months, he hadn’t bothered relieving his sexual needs with more than a cursory jack-off session in the shower. Now his cock remembered its primary job was to stand at attention when a beautiful, sexy woman walked by.
Hell, it even saluted.
His jeans grew tight, and he felt more perspiration break out on his face and neck. What had the waitress called him? Glisteny.
He’d say horny was a better word for his current predicament.
On his phone screen, he checked the angle of the camera in comparison to the money till. It needed to go up a hair.
Then Livia walked in front of the camera, and his screen filled with a prime view of her luscious round ass.
On second thought…
He left the camera where it was.
Those hips filled the screen.
Damn, it was hot in here. He was thirsty.
Moving to the shelf of glasses, he pulled one down. When he grabbed a bottle with the Badlands label on the front, Livia whipped around to stare at him.
“What are you doing?”
“Pouring myself a drink.” He poured a splash in the bottom, and holding her gaze, took a sip.
His face screwed up at the flavor of the rum.
“What is that look about?” She cocked a hand on her hip.
“What look?”
“The one on your face when you tasted my rum.”
“Nothing. It’s good.” He resisted a cough around the unpleasant tickle in the back of his throat from the bitter herb she added.
He set the glass down on the bar. “I have all the cameras set up.”
“Oh? Let me check if they work.” She yanked her phone from her back pocket, making him think of her ass on that screen again. Damn, he could watch her all day. Twenty-four seven Livia TV.
It would be such sweet torture.
She was staring at her phone. “I don’t see the cameras on my feed.”
“That’s because you don’t have access.”
Her head shot up, her glare hotter than lava.
“They’re on my feed now. Don’t worry—I’ll give you access. But not control.”
“This. Is. My. Bar.”
“Yes. And you’re under my protection. Which puts me in charge of the security around here. You already have enough to do without worrying about camera footage.”
She stomped a small, booted foot into the floor. “This is my bar!”
Goddamn, she was cute. Adorable. Sexy. Desirable. And completely untamed.
I could tame her.
The thought jolted through his brain and lit up every pathway in his system with molten need.
He hated to think Colton was right about his taste in women…but he was right.
“You really hate giving up control, don’t you?” Carver didn’t hesitate to call Livia out.
She shot him a dirty look and folded her arms in a defiant pose that didn’t fool him at all. She might have a tough exterior, but inside…she was hurting. All the time.
He recognized all the signs. Had seen it in his fellow SEALs he fought with, Ledger in particular.
Seen it in himself too.
“My father owned this bar. He poured his whole life, all his time and energy, into it.”
“So you never saw him.”
“I never said that.” But her expression told Carver otherwise.
“But he was always here. Did he drink too?” He pitched his voice lower and edged closer to her, moving slow, like he would with a frightened animal.
She bowed her head. “He was an alcoholic.” Pain slashed her whisper. “He wasn’t a bad man. Just flawed.” She looked up into Carver’s eyes, a bold challenge in hers.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Livia. You deserved better. And your sister too.”
Her nostrils flared as she drew a breath. “My parents had an unhappy marriage. Women were constantly throwing themselves at my father to get alcohol, and well, my mom couldn’t handle it. She took off.”
“Leaving you to take care of your sister, am I right?”
Her delicate throat worked in a swallow. “I have authority over everything in Badlands.”
He nodded. “I understand it’s hard to relinquish control, Livvie.”
She sucked in a breath at his use of her shortened name.
He reached out and touched her arm. She lowered it, dropping her shield, and he folded his fingers around hers.
“I experienced the same when I left my squadron. I was used to giving the orders, keeping tabs on my men. When I didn’t have that anymore, I realized how much a part of me it is. How much I missed the brothers I fought with.”
She searched his eyes, the blue depths softening and losing the hard glint she typically looked at him with.
All of a sudden, she yanked her hand out of his grasp. She looked around for an escape, but he stood in the way of the only exit.
She hitched herself onto the bar, but before she could spin around and jump off the other side, he stepped between her legs.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Laying down the rules.”
“Like what?”
“No leaving without me. Ever.”
She leveled him in her solemn gaze.
“You don’t answer the door.”
“I have deliveries coming every day.”
“Doesn’t matter. I handle the deliveries from now on.”
She laughed, a tinkling sound that slipped into his cold heart. “No way am I following those rules.”
“It’s for your own good.”
The hard edge snapped back into her gaze, and she narrowed her eyes. “Don’t say that. My father told me that all the time , and none of it was for my own good!”
Fuck. He’d triggered her.
“Please get away from me.”
The pain in her voice punched him in the chest.
There seemed to be no good way out of this conversation. An apology would seem too watered down. How could he make things right with Livia?
Inspiration took hold, and he nodded toward his rum glass on the bar. “The rum needs to age longer. So it has time to gain those notes of nuttiness you want in a rum.”
Livia let out a scream and whipped around on her backside, swinging her legs off the other side of the bar. She stormed off, her cowgirl boots thumping on the floor, and slammed the door of the back room.
He pulled in a deep breath.
He did what he had to do by pissing her off, and it would most likely mean that she’d never see him for what he was—an ally.
It was better that she kept those thick walls. It was how she protected her soft, vulnerable side.
The one thing Carver couldn’t shield.