Chapter Ten
Kip
Once I make it into the office and the door is shut, I lean against the wall and clutch my heart which feels like it might explode. It’s not the only part of me about to explode right now.
I had to walk away. I couldn’t stay near her for one more second, or I was going to pick her up, throw her over my shoulder, and carry her back here to my office to rip all her clothes off. I shouldn’t have kissed her. I really shouldn’t have done that.
She’s trouble. I can feel it. Nothing good will come from this. I just know it.
Unfortunately, I know this - with my brain but not with the rest of my body. I plop down on the couch and drag my hands over my face.
Holy hell. That was a kiss. I touch my lips - still tingling from her touch. She was so soft and warm and...receptive. Surely she wasn’t acting. She felt that too. There’s no way she didn’t feel it.
Well, I’m fucked. No question about it. She’s sleeping at my house. Cooking in my kitchen. Bending herself into a sexy pretzel on my patio. She’s even working at my damn restaurant.
She’s everywhere in my head and outside of it. Fuck me.
I should get out there and make sure everything is running smoothly. I stand up and take a few more deep breaths, and then I shake out my hands and arms like that will knock off the web she’s spun around me.
Once I’m behind the bar, I have a good view of the whole place.
I always stay in the back office or behind the bar unless some real shit’s going down.
Doesn’t happen very often, but sometimes a drunk guy is looking for a fight or gets handsy with one of my servers.
I step in when necessary, but most of the time, I prefer to be out of sight - unlike Hawk, who lives to be the center of attention.
He’s out front. Surely he heard Ginger is working tonight and needs to witness this.
He keeps running over to carry Ginger’s trays from the kitchen.
She can’t carry anything heavy since she’s only working with one arm.
I know she’s sore too. I should have refused to let her work until she’s all healed up.
She looks happy though - too happy when she’s flashing her pretty smile at Hawk.
My chest tightens watching them laugh and exchange friendly glances.
Not a chance in hell that happening on my watch.
“Hey Ginger,” I call. Nearly everyone falls silent and looks at me. Her eyes grow wide. She finishes passing out plates and excuses herself. Her eyes are a mixture of fear and anticipation as she walks behind the bar and stands in front of me. I have her on her toes. Good, better her than me.
“What can I do for you, Kip?” she asks.
“No more tables.”
“What?”
“You’re just delivering drinks tonight.”
She puts her hands on her hips, her jaw set tight. “What the heck are you talking about?”
“This,” I say, pointing to her arm.
“And this.” I point to her side.
“And this.” I point to her head.
“I’m doing just fine. You don’t need to babysit me.”
I laugh. “No cupcake, that’s exactly what you need.”
She leans in closer and whispers. “Remember - you’re supposed to actually like me. You can’t show everyone that you hate me, or it will ruin our little cover story.”
Hate? Who said anything about hate?”
I want to drag her back to the hallway to hash this out, but then I remember how small the hallway is when we’re both in it together, and how good her body feels smashed up against mine.
Here. We are having this conversation here.
“I don’t hate you,” I hiss.
She bites her bottom lip. “Really?”
“Who said anything about hate?”
She just gives me a look and says, “Your face. Your body language. Your tone. Your actual words.”
“I never said I hated you.”
“Well, not in those exact words...”
I close my eyes again. I’m slowly counting to five.
“Are you counting?” she hisses.
“Yes. Shut up.”
“Okay, Grumpy McGrumpface. Count faster. I need to get back to my tables.”
“You aren’t going back to the tables.”
“What exactly am I going to do then?” she asks.
“Run drinks.”
She just stares at me for a moment and then says, “I won’t make nearly as much money in tips that way, and you know it.”
“I’ll cover the tips.”
“What does that mean?”
“Whatever Sadie gets tonight. I’ll match it,” I say.
Her eyes narrow on me. “I don’t want your money. I’m not a charity case.”
I bite my tongue before I can point out that she’s staying at my place and eating my food for free. Instead I say, “I’m your employer. This is what I think is fair. It’s not charity.”
She crosses her arms.
“For a week,” I say.
“What?”
“No table service for a week, and I want to see that the bruises on your side are mostly gone before you’re allowed to do it.”
I’m bracing for a fight because I know the word allowed is sending her right over the edge, but she just inhales deeply and smiles. “Whatever you say, boss.”
She leans forward and stretches up on her tiptoes. I hold my breath. She gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and then whirls around and heads back to work.
At the end of the night, she looks tired.
I don’t know how’s she’s on her feet still but she’s smiling and talking.
She ended up making almost as many tips as Sadie just delivering drinks.
It’s that fucking outfit and that fucking smile she’s flashing to every customer.
She’s good for business. I hate to admit it, but she is.
She’s not good for me, but she’s good for business.
I grab the bike and throw it in the back as she climbs into the truck.
“I really didn’t know that was your place,” she says, softly when I get into the truck.
“No shit, cupcake. You should have seen the look on your face when I told you.”
She blushes a little.
“Thank you for not firing me.”
I look at her out of the corner of my eye. “Oh, I did fire you. You just didn’t leave.”
She laughs. “I guess if we’re getting technical.”
She yawns and looks out the window. “It’s so weird for it to be light this late. Do you ever get used to it?”
“Better than the near perpetual darkness of winter.”
“You’ve lived here your whole life?” she asks.
“I grew up here. Moved away. Came back a little over four years ago,” I answer.
She’s studying me. I’m staring straight ahead - eyes on the road.
“What happened between you and Hawk?”
My jaw tightens, Everything tightens. I don’t want to have this conversation with her. Not now. Not ever.
“I’ll tell you when you tell me who you’re running from,” I reply.
Now her jaw is set tight too. She surprises me by saying, “I suppose that’s fair.”
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“A bit like I was hit by a bus.”
“To be expected.”
I pause a moment and then add, “You really shouldn’t be working yet.”
“I’m not on the schedule again for two days.”
“Good.”
“How often do you go in?” she asks.
“A few evenings a week. They don’t really need me. I’ve got a great crew.”
“You really do.”
Once the truck is parked out front of the cabin, we get out, and I walk her to the door. I know there’s no reason for me to do this other than I want to be close to her.
She opens the door but doesn’t enter. Instead she turns to face me. All I can think about is kissing her. My body is aching to pull her close to me - to taste her again, to feel her tongue on mine, her chest pressed against me. I want to slide my hand up that tiny skirt.
Her big blue eyes are just staring up at me.
“Well, I should be going,” she whispers but doesn’t move. Her body floats just a smidge in my direction - just close enough for me to feel the heat coming off her.
Fuck me. I couldn’t stop this if I wanted to.
I don’t know who moves first, but her arms are around my neck, our lips pressed against each other’s.
My hands are splayed over her lower back, pulling her into my body.
She jumps up and wraps her legs around my waist, and I grab her ass to hold her.
Her skirt is pushed all the way up, and I’m gripping her bare skin with my hands.
I carry her inside. She’s moaning softly and every little noise is driving me wild.
I bump into a chair and a table before I make it to the kitchen island where I place her ass on the counter.
Her legs are still firmly around my waist. Her arms around my neck.
I’m about to rip her shirt off when there’s a crash outside, and Blue starts barking violently.
She pulls back, and I jerk my head up to look out the window.
“Stay here,” I say, walking toward the back patio. I hear her jump down from the counter and follow me. I turn around.
“What fucking part of stay here didn’t you understand?
” I growl. Her skirt is still up around her waist, and I can see the tiniest hint of her pink underwear.
I wish I was dragging them off her body with my teeth right now, but Blue’s still losing his mind, so the pink panties will have to wait.
As soon as she realizes I’m staring at her underwear, she wiggles her skirt back down.
“Are you going out there?” she whispers.
“I am. You aren’t.” I say, pointing at her. “I mean it, Ginger.”
She’s back to biting her lip, and I’m really regretting that I’m not the one biting her lip right now.
“Stay,” I whisper yell. I open the flashlight on my phone and step out onto the patio. Blue runs up to me.
“What is it, Blue?” I say. I look over, and the trash can is on its side. Trash everywhere.
I walk over and pick it up and clean up the mess. Blue sniffs everything and eats a few things.
“Did you scare it away?” I say, petting his head as we walk back toward the house. His tongue is hanging from his mouth, and he looks quite proud of himself.
I step inside the house to see Ginger with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She looks worried.
“It’s fine. Something got into the trash. Probably just a bear.”
She nods. Relief spreads across her face.
I step toward her, and she says quickly, “I should probably go to bed. It’s been a long day.”
My brain knows that this is right. She’s right to walk away. The rest of me, however, is not on board with this decision.
“Right.” I say.
She’s inching backwards. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Ok. Goodnight.”
To say that I got a terrible night’s sleep is the understatement of a lifetime. I drag myself into the kitchen to get some coffee. She’s sitting at the island, coffee in front of her and another one set out, waiting for me.
I slide onto the barstool and take a sip of coffee.
“Rough night?” she says.
I just shoot her a look. She looks fine, like she slept for days.
Just as I’m taking another sip, she says, “When was the last time you were with a woman?”
I nearly spit my coffee everywhere. I cough a few times. Her eyes are glued to me.
“Good morning to you too, cupcake,” I say when I stop coughing.
“How long?”
I frown. Why the hell is she asking me this? Did I come across as desperate as I feel last night?
“Hawk said you hadn’t dated in a long time, and Sylvia said that it had been a rough couple of years. Sadie told me last night that everyone was happy to finally see you with someone.”
I don’t answer. Why do I live in such a small fucking town?
“How long, Kip?” she asks again.
“How long has it been for you?” I ask instead of answering.
“Over a year,” she says.
“Me too.” I answer. I’m not wanting to go into any more detail than that. “So you haven’t run away from a boyfriend or husband?”
“No. No boyfriend or husband.”
“Just your possessive brothers.”
“Just my protective brothers.” She pauses to let out a heavy sigh. “Well, Kip, there seems to be a physical attraction between us despite the fact that we can’t stand each other.”
I just swallow. I’m not used to women being this direct. I’m used to women who like to play games. I like this. I’m not going to lie. I’m interested to hear where she’s going with this.
“I suppose we have two options,” she says.
“What’s that, Ginger?”
“Ignore it and stay away from each other as much as possible.”
“And?”
“Indulge it.”
“Indulge it?” I repeat.
She just stares at me with those big blue eyes again, and I feel like I’m melting into a puddle.
“What does that mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like,” she says.
“Is this what you want?”
She straightens up. “I don’t know yet. I wanted to know if you were even interested.”
Interested? Of course I’m fucking interested.
The sexiest goddamn woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on is asking me if I want to take her to bed.
Of course I’m saying yes. There’s a small part of my brain that tries to remind me about red flags and all that, but I tell it to shut the fuck up. Red flags be damned.
“Is it?” she says. Fuck me, her lips look so kissable right now I can hardly focus on the words coming out them.
“Is it what?” I ask.
“Something you want?”
“Oh...um...yeah,” I say. I’m trying not to sound too eager – too desperate.
She studies my face for a moment before continuing.
“We’d need rules,” she says.
“What kind of rules?”
“Condoms - every time.”
“Of course.”
“Do you have any?” she asks.
“They are probably expired.”
“We’ll have to figure out how to get some. Not the easiest task because everyone thinks we’re trying to get pregnant.” She gives me a sly look.
“Right. I’d have to order some online. It will take a few days.”
“That’s fine.” She picks up her mug.
“Anything else?”
She sets down her mug without taking a sip. “Probably shouldn’t sleep over.”
“Not a problem with me.” Distance is for the best. The less I’m entangled with this woman, the better.
Her eyes flash up to meet mine. “I’m not staying long. I want to be clear about that.”
“I know.”
“I’m leaving by the end of the summer, and I’m not returning. This isn’t a long term thing.”
“I understand,” I say. “Better for me that way too.”
“Okay. Well, I need to think this over. I really don’t need any distractions, but you’re already...”
She waves her hand up and down in front of my body. “You’re already a distraction.”
The feeling’s mutual.
“I’m hoping scratching this itch will do the trick.”
Me too.
“Should I order condoms?” I ask.
“Better to be prepared. Will you be angry if I decide against this?”
Angry no. Disappointed as fuck. Yes.
“No,” I say and then shut my mouth.
“Okay,” She stands up and walks over to the sink to wash out her mug. “I’ll let you know in a few days.”
This isn't going to help my focus problem one bit.