Chapter 11 #2
Rather than call Jackson, I invited him for a drink later in the afternoon before asking for a favor.
“Oh, no problem,” he assured me with a grin while lifting a glass of scotch.
“Here I was, thinking you needed something huge. I can score a block of tickets for you. No problem, especially if that sexy little blonde you’ve got working the ovens is involved. ”
“Watch it,” I warned, and I wasn’t playing. It took a conscious effort to loosen my grip on my glass.
“Just saying. She’s hot,” he mused while checking out the ass of a passing server in a short skirt.
“You think any woman with a cute ass and decent tits is hot,” I sighed. If anything, his wandering eyes made it possible to laugh off his comments about Claudia. I wouldn’t have to say anything that might start a fight. “Don’t you have enough of that to look at while you’re working?”
His brows knitted together in frustration. “Don’t remind me.”
“What happened?” I asked, glad to let him distract me with his problems so I wouldn’t have to think about mine. Things weren’t terrible at the moment—progress made at the new location, things moving smoothly at Home.
None of it did a thing to ease my frustration.
I was as tense and cagey by the time we closed for the night as I’d been all day.
There was no keeping my thoughts away from her for long.
It got to the point where I waited for everyone else to leave, knowing she would stay around to play in the kitchen.
By the time I emerged from my office with only one thing in mind, she looked like she was also thinking about it. Her hand ran through her golden hair, leaving me to imagine my hand in her hair, holding tight to control her mouth’s progress up and down my shaft.
Rather than indulge in those dark, needful impulses, I announced, “Jackson said the tickets won’t be a problem.”
Her brows lifted, her baby blues sparkling. “That’s great! It’ll be something to look forward to while my life is flashing before my eyes.”
“Oh, come on,” I cajoled with a smile as she went to her locker and hung up the white jacket she wore every night. The sleeveless tunic she wore over leggings shouldn’t have turned me on, long and shapeless, but I was horny enough to hump a fire hydrant by now. “It’ll be fun.”
“So you say.” She couldn’t hide a small smile, though, ducking behind the open locker door like she was trying to hide it. “I can think of better ways to have fun.”
“So can I,” I agreed, my dick beginning to swell.
Straightening up, she shot me a warning look. “Behave yourself. I’m not trying to resanitize the prep table again.” Her lips twitched in something dangerously close to a flirtatious grin, making me twitch.
“How about I offer to clean it this time?” I teased, shrugging when she rolled her eyes. “Who says we need to use the table? You need a more vivid imagination.”
Folding her arms, she retorted, “My imagination is plenty vivid, thank you.” Her narrow-eyed gaze traveled slowly over me, telling me more than she would admit.
“Oh? Tell me about it.” My voice was tight, if only because I was struggling to keep from pinning her against the lockers and shoving my tongue down her throat for starters.
“I’m not sure you could handle it.” A flush touched the apples of her cheeks before her teeth grazed her lip. Fuck.
“I think I’m the best judge of what I can and can’t handle.” Taking one step toward her, then another, I growled. “Hit me with your best shot, Granger.”
She was going to until her face fell. “Fuck,” she growled, closing her eyes after slamming the locker door. “I’m trying to make the smart move. To not fuck up a solid opportunity by letting whatever it is you do to me get in the way. Why does this have to be so impossible?”
“It doesn’t have to be.” There wasn’t a chance in hell of keeping myself from reaching for her, placing my hands on her shoulders, tipping her chin upward, and gazing down at her beautiful face. “It can be fun. We were having fun a few seconds ago until your stubbornness got in the way.”
Slipping from my grasp, she shook her head. “I thought we talked about this. I can’t set myself up to get fucked over again.”
“Who says you would?” I sighed. “Do you plan on never giving anyone a chance ever again? That’s no way to live.” Nor was it fair to make me pay for the sins of some stupid asshole with a wandering dick.
“Look who’s talking about fear,” she muttered.
“I’m not sure I understand.” I thrust my hands into my pockets, curling them tight against the frustration beginning to build.
Oh, who the hell was I kidding? I’d been frustrated for days, watching the forbidden fruit parade itself around in front of me after not allowing me to touch.
“What could be so important that you refuse to acknowledge the way things are between us?”
“How are things between us?” With her head tipped to the side, she narrowed her eyes. “I mean, maybe I need to be clued in since I’m the last to know.”
I had wasted enough of my life listening to her feign ignorance. “Again, with the bullshit. Don’t you see what a waste of time that is? I thought—”
“What did you think?” she nearly barked, her face flushing. “Oh, because we did it once, we can do it whenever you want? The door’s always open? That’s not how this works.”
Holding up my hands, I groaned. “All right, I think you need to take a breath. I’m not interested in your editorializing.”
No one but my kid sister had the nerve to roll her eyes at me with so much scorn.
“You don’t get it, do you? Or maybe you refuse to.
This isn’t something I can afford to screw around with.
We’re talking about my future. And now you know how I’ve been burned,” she added, her voice softer, shaky.
She recovered quickly, though, lifting her chin.
“I already gave too much power to the wrong people who only stabbed me in the back and left me scrambling around, trying to figure out the aftermath. I am not going back to that.”
Taking a deep breath, she added, “I cannot let anything get in the way of my goals ever again.”
“So there’s no room for anything else? Two people can’t have a little fun, relieve a little stress after a long night in the kitchen? That’s all I’m interested in, and you seemed interested too,” I pointed out. “But no, because it might get in the way of what you want.”
“That’s pretty much it, yeah,” she retorted. “Sorry if that’s inconvenient, but you aren’t the only person involved here. You’ve achieved your dream. You’re not fighting or struggling anymore. I don’t expect you to understand.”
Not fighting, not struggling? She didn’t have the first clue. “If I weren’t struggling, I wouldn’t have hired you.”
A look of grim satisfaction touched her features, and then she nodded. “There we go,” she whispered. “At least you can admit it, even if you don’t want to.”
Damn my mouth running away from me. That was not something I did or could afford to do, yet I couldn’t seem to avoid it around her. “So you got burned,” I countered, forcing myself to ignore her heaving chest and flashing eyes. “By all means, give up. Never take a chance again.”
Her satisfaction deepened now, including a faint, knowing smile. “Look who’s talking. You refuse to take chances because of something that happened to someone before you were born. Maybe take a look in the mirror the next time you want to criticize someone for being risk averse.”
Things were going to get much uglier if they didn’t end here and now. I felt it—the outrage bubbling in me, bitter resentment, the very childish but very palpable impulse to hurt her back, to reduce her to a crying wreck. That was beneath me, or so I’d believed until I met her.
She released a shuddering breath, looking down at the floor. “I’m leaving. Goodnight.”
“Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.” Again, beneath me, but there was no way I could let her have the last word. That wasn’t something I did.
Pain creased her forehead, made her chin quiver, but she left without another word.
Soon, I was alone, and I was glad of it.
Even if I found myself breathing deeply to inhale the lingering sweetness she left behind.
Even if I wished I could take back every word.