Chapter 3
Pipe ground his teeth together so hard, it felt as if he would crack a tooth. He couldn’t believe the things the redheaded bitch was saying.
He hadn’t even recognized the woman in the jeans and sweatshirt until the redhead had said enough for him to realize she was the woman in the black dress. The one who’d been outbid.
His blood ran cold at hearing the awful things the redhead—Eleanor, apparently—had said about veterans. What she truly thought about them. Pipe knew there were people in the world who thought the way she did, but he honestly hadn’t expected any of them to be here tonight, or to actually bid.
And to hear that she had no intention of actually paying the money she’d promised was the last straw. Every muscle in his body was tense, and he was two seconds away from going off on the bitch.
“Easy, Pipe,” Owl said, grabbing his arm.
“Take care of this for me?” he said to his friend.
“Of course. I’ll make sure the organizers know she has no intention of honoring her bid, thus voiding your responsibility to take her to dinner. I’ll donate the money in The Refuge’s name. Go on. Go after the other one.”
Pipe should’ve been surprised that Owl knew exactly where his head was at, but he wasn’t. They might not have served together, but they’d worked side-by-side for years. “Thanks, man.”
“Shut up,” he said, tightening his fingers around Pipe’s arm for a moment. “For the record…I like her.” He nodded toward the woman—Cora, the bitch had called her—who’d just reached the doors to the ballroom.
Something within Pipe loosened at hearing his friend’s approval. It made no sense, except that he valued Owl’s opinion. Nodding, he took a moment to send a glare Eleanor’s way, before turning and jogging toward the exit, where Cora had disappeared.
He was supposed to go back up onstage after the last man had been auctioned off, for the final announcement of how much money had been earned and for the closing remarks, but Pipe felt no guilt about bugging out early.
He couldn’t lose sight of the woman who’d not only stood up for him, and seemed to honestly care about the veterans she was here to support, but who he’d found himself strangely attracted to since he’d first seen her standing near the stage, looking so out of place.
He had to talk to her. Find out why she’d seemed so desperate to win a date. He needed to know her story.
He wasn’t sure why, but he had the bizarre thought that if she slipped away, he’d somehow lose something precious.
Looking both ways in the hall outside the ballroom, Pipe didn’t see any sign of Cora. She’d been moving quickly, and he instinctively knew he had only seconds to make a decision on which way to go to find her. Left or right?
Right. Toward the lobby. He had a feeling Cora wasn’t staying in this fancy hotel.
To his relief, his instincts were proven correct when he rounded the corner. He saw Cora across the lobby, talking to a man standing at the entrance to the hotel. He was smiling at her, and as Pipe headed in their direction, Cora reached into her back pocket and handed the man some money.
Seeing her tip the doorman made Pipe’s respect for her rise even higher.
He’d heard the women’s entire conversation, and the only thing that bitch Eleanor was correct about was the quality of the clothes Cora had been wearing.
He wasn’t an expert, but even he knew her dress from earlier wasn’t designer.
The jeans and sweatshirt she now had on looked comfortable and well-worn.
Yes, she’d bid quite a bit of money for him, but he had a feeling that every cent had been hard-won.
Pipe picked up the pace, jogging toward her. He made enough noise as he neared that both Cora and the doorman turned to look at him. Pipe approved when the man stepped in front of Cora as if to protect her. He wasn’t going to hurt her, far from it, but neither of them knew that.
He slowed as he approached and subtly held his hands out, making sure they both saw he was unarmed. Which wasn’t exactly true, but he also wasn’t packing anything that could harm them.
“Cora, right?” he asked.
She looked surprised. Then wary. “Yeah?”
“I’m Pipe, as you probably know. Can I walk you home?”
Instead of looking relieved or impressed, the suspicion in her eyes grew. “Why?”
“Because it’s late. And dark. And you shouldn’t be out alone.”
“I can take care of myself,” she said with a small lift of her chin.
To his surprise, Pipe found her stubbornness refreshing. Maybe because he’d been around so many women tonight who tittered and giggled at anything he said. He hated women who simpered, and he had a feeling this woman would rather die than play coy for a man.
“Right. Then maybe you can give me a reason to get out of here, instead of going back into that ballroom and saying or doing something I’ll regret in response to that bitch who has no problem stiffing veterans who’ve risked their lives for their country.”
She stared at him for a long moment before asking, “You heard that?”
“I heard everything,” Pipe told her.
He saw the dismay and embarrassment in her eyes before she straightened her shoulders. “No offense, but you in that tux would make me more of a target than if I was by myself,” she said with a glint of humor in her eyes.
Without hesitation, Pipe shrugged out of the tux jacket.
He ripped the stupid bow tie off his neck and held both out to the doorman, who was probably used to the quirks of the wealthy people who attended events at the swanky hotel.
The man took them without a word. Pipe then undid the buttons at the top of the white shirt, then took off his cufflinks, stuffing them into his pocket.
He rolled up the sleeves of the fancy shirt, exposing the tattoos on both arms. Finally, he ran a hand through his hair, mussing the strands.
“Can’t do anything about the shiny shoes, but maybe this is better? ”
His skin tingled as her gaze ran over him. He didn’t see any judgement in her eyes, instead it felt as if she approved of him more like this than in his expensive duds. “I don’t live near here. I have to take the Metro,” she warned him.
Pipe shrugged. “Not near here is fine. It’ll give me more time to calm down.”
For a moment, he thought she was going to refuse.
Tell him that she was perfectly able to get home by herself, which he had no doubt she was.
He had a feeling this woman could do any-damn-thing she wanted without anyone’s help.
But for some reason, he wanted to ensure her safety.
Wanted to be someone she could lean on, even if just for tonight. For the time it took to get her home.
“Okay,” she said after a long pause.
Relief flooded Pipe’s veins. It was a surprising feeling.
He’d been numb more often than not since getting out of the military.
He’d gotten most of his tattoos as a way to feel something, even momentarily.
Even if it was the pain of a needle. He’d begun to think he’d be stuck in this weird nothingness forever.
But somehow, this woman had managed to do in seconds what years of therapists and tattoos hadn’t…she’d broken through the ice encasing his entire being without even trying.
It was confusing and exciting at the same time.
Pipe turned to the doorman. “I have a buddy, his name is Owl…sorry, Callen Kaufman. Red hair…beard. He kind of looks like Ed Sheeran. If you can get my jacket and tie to him, he’ll take them off your hands.”
“Are you staying here, sir? I could give them to the front desk staff and they can put them in your room.”
“I’m not. Is that a problem?” Pipe asked.
“Not at all. I’ll find your friend.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s my job,” the doorman said.
Pipe could’ve let that go, but he didn’t.
“No, it isn’t. Not really. And I didn’t miss the way you stood in front of Cora to protect her when I approached.
Working in the service industry isn’t easy.
I know, since I’m in it myself. I appreciate your assistance and working with me to make sure this woman gets home safely.
” He pulled out his wallet and selected a fifty-dollar bill, holding it out to the man.
The doorman looked surprised, but reached for the tip. He nodded at Pipe. “Thank you.”
Pipe returned the nod, then turned to Cora.
She was staring at him with a confused expression. Was his being a decent human being that surprising? He had a feeling it was. At least to her…which pissed him off. “Ready?” he asked, gesturing to the street outside the doors.
She jerked as if surprised by the word, then nodded and turned to the door. The doorman immediately opened it and held it for them.
“Be safe,” he said as they exited into the night.
Cora turned left and started walking at a fast clip. Pipe immediately lengthened his strides until he reached her right side, closest to the busy street. They walked silently for a minute or two before she looked up at him.
Pipe stood at least half a foot taller than Cora, but for some reason she seemed larger than life.
She walked with confidence, her eyes constantly scanned her immediate area, and he couldn’t help but grin when she refused to step aside as they neared a pair of men who were walking toward them.
They both almost walked right into her before veering to the right to go around her.
Obviously, they were used to women giving them the right of way on the sidewalk, which was extremely sexist and misogynistic, but so engrained in society, everyone simply accepted it.
Everyone except for Cora, apparently.
Pipe looked down and caught her eye, before she turned her attention to the sidewalk in front of her again.
He had a feeling she was working herself up to say something to him, and he wasn’t wrong.
She began to speak moments later. Fast and staccato, like if she didn’t get out what she wanted to say right that second, she’d chicken out and not say anything at all.