Chapter 9 #2
“Come on Leroy give me the keys, I already called an Uber to take you home.
Don't make me come over there and get them myself.” Leroy starts mumbling unintelligible English, produces his keys from his jacket pocket and slams them on the bar.
She snatches them off the hardwood topper, tossing them in the cash register.
Her voice is hypnotic. It’s smooth and honeyed, even when she speaks to this Leroy in a firm tone.
“We’ll settle the tab tomorrow. Your car’s here. Go.” She tells him and he stands to stumble his way out the door. Her gaze follows him until he steps through the door and disappears, hopefully into the back of his ride.
I watch as she looks down to grab the glass that sits in his now empty spot.
She blows out a breath of exasperation–-the wisps of hair that hang in her face fluttering out of her eyes.
When she grabs the glasses, turning to bring them to the sink that I just happen to be in front of, she freezes.
It’s quick, barely noticeable, but I caught it and my lips pull into a smirk.
She’s affected by me.
Parker straightens out and starts my way—shoulders pulled back, chin held high. She’s not intimidated by my presence, that much is clear, but she's reactive. I can see it in the way her fingers fidget around the glass and how she keeps stealing sideways glances at me.
Bad Decisions by Bad Omens plays over the speakers in the bar. Like the universe is speaking directly to the both of us.
“Hey there, my name’s Parker. What can I get for you, Sir?
” She meets my gaze and I’m momentarily stunned by her eyes.
I could tell they were light but up close they’re the faintest amber color I have ever seen.
Little flecks of green give them so much depth that I feel myself being pulled into them. They’re gorgeous.
“I’ll take a bourbon please, neat.” She nods and spins to pull a bottle off the wall of liquor behind her, standing on the tip of her toes to reach it.
Adorable. Placing my glass on the bar with an audible clunk, she pours the golden liquid into the tumbler then slides it to me with a napkin beneath it.
“What’s your name?” Her voice is laced with a hint of intrigue.
I stare into her as I draw in a sip of my bourbon.
It’s surprising she isn’t uncomfortable—like she should be.
She waits patiently, but I don’t answer her right away and a blush crawls into her cheeks.
Just when I’m about to tell her, she pulls out a rag from behind the counter and proceeds to wipe down the bar space next to me.
“Maverick.” This earns me a shy smile.
“Uh, thank you. It’s for your tab. If you want to open one.” Despite the face of confidence, I can see her nervousness.
“No need, I’ll have the one and be out of here.” I reach for my wallet then hand her my debit card. Her fingers lightly touch mine as she takes it, sending a zap straight to my dick.
More. I want more.
Her breath hitches upon contact and she quickly yanks her hand away. Escaping to the register, she works on cashing me out. I stare shamelessly as she leans against the wall, her fingers gliding over the touch screen trying to print out my receipt.
She’s facing the register straight on, but I have an excellent view of her profile from where I sit. Her cheeks are flushed, but the rest of her smooth skin is ghostly pale. Dark circles under her eyes show just how drained she is—on top of her slightly hunched posture.
I’m sorry sweetheart, is something keeping you up at night? I grin. I’m gonna wear you down Parker.
Okay, so I'm a bit of a prick, but I can’t help it. I need to own her. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, Parker Ellis is mine. She just doesn't know it yet, but she will soon.
Parker straightens herself up and walks toward me, shoulders up and head lifted again.
Like I didn't just see the ghost of the woman who now stands in front of me. She places the receipt and my card on the bar top as I take my last sip and set the glass down. A pen appears from the cute little apron she has tied around her hips. Now, she’s the one watching me curiously, taking me in like a modern marvel, all while I simply sign my receipt. Observant as ever.
Pulling my jacket from the back of the stool, an idea hits me right as my arms slide into the sleeves. Retrieving my wallet again, I open it and pull out a business card, offering it to her, which she confidently takes from me.
“Thank you Parker. Let me know if you have any issues with Cole over there.” Nodding my head in Cole’s direction. She purses her lips, studying it front and back as if the cardstock is going to have the key to all the universe's questions.
Fuck me, she’s adorable.
“Maverick Cain; do you work with Cole?” She mutters, glancing back to me with Cheshire's curiosity.
“His boss, actually. If you ever need anything, or if he’s not doing a satisfactory job, please let me know.” I watch as she glances over to Cole and back to me, a manicured brow raised.
“He’s fine, stays to himself and watches everything around him. I think he’ll do well.”
“Good.” I knock my tattooed knuckles on the bar top. “Have a good night Parker. Be safe.” Half of a smirk pulls at my lips then I’m walking away from her–the burn of her gaze searing up my back.
Walking to my truck my watch snags my attention for a moment; it’s one in the morning.
I was planning to drop by my house and wait for Parker to get home before I go check on her–you know, to make sure she gets there safely, but I’ve changed my mind.
Our brief interaction has me fucking feral.
Her background check has nagged at me since I received it.
I have precisely an hour and a half before she returns home, enough time to devour its contents.
Hopping into the driver's seat of my Ram 2500 Rebel, she comes alive with a low rumble before I throw her in reverse. I’m usually on the R1 but the fall temperatures are settling in–working against my incessant need to be on two wheels.
It rains a lot through the fall and winter months, making the driving conditions absolutely atrocious for riding.
I’m going to utilize this window to get to know Parker a little more–I better get a move on.