Chapter 12
twelve
the least i could do
R yan watched the sway of Elissa’s generous hips as she left the restaurant.
Fuck him, this was the last thing he’d needed tonight.
Faced with his most recent mistake appearing at his workplace, he’d tried to pretend he’d never seen her before in his life.
He enjoyed her expression when he refused to acknowledge their previous acquaintance, somewhere between disappointment, annoyance, and surprise.
“Ready for the check?” Ryan asked.
“Just put it on this.” He handed over a credit card.
Ryan waited half a beat. Most people added a please or thank you, but he guessed the douche was used to being waited on.
Admittedly, so was he, but his Nonna drilled in good manners no matter what.
He was excellent at remembering with retail and food workers, but sometimes forgot himself when dealing with assholes, returning their own energy.
“Of course. Be right back.”
Ryan walked behind the bar to run the card.
As he slid it through the machine, he noticed the dude’s name was Ryan, too.
No wonder Elissa had believed he was there to meet her.
Same name, a set-up date, and he’d forgotten who he was supposed to meet.
It had been a recipe for disaster. Well, at least this Ryan seemed suited to her.
Neither had raised their voice, nor had anyone left in a huff.
Tonight appeared to be going better than last Tuesday.
Receipt in hand, he sauntered over with his best customer service smile on his face.
“Thanks so much for coming in tonight. Have a great evening.”
“Hey, I have a question,” the other Ryan said, stopping him before he could go check on the rest of his customers.
“Sure.”
“Do you think the date went well?”
“I’ve seen a lot worse.”
The other dude smiled, turning his attention to the receipt. “I thought it went well, too! Have a great night.”
Poor clueless nerd. He’d been honest. As a bartender, he’d seen good dates, bad dates, and a few ugly ones, too. That had been mediocre at best, and it had probably been his fault.
After she recognized him, he tried to play it cool, but his attention kept straying in her direction. And every time he glanced over at their table, she was looking at him.
Nerdy guy yammered on, but her focus hadn’t been on him.
When she would realize she’d been spotted, pink would tinge her cheeks, and she’d turn to her date.
The first time it happened, Ryan assumed she was still working on accepting the fact he’d showed up again in her life so soon.
The second time, he assumed they needed something, but their drinks were only half empty, and the chip basket was still full.
The third time he caught her watching him, he gave her a slow smile, putting as much sex into it as possible. He was a DeMarco—there was a lot of sex in his smile. Her cheeks went from pink to red, and he winked at her before she jerked her attention back to the other guy.
And now she was gone, and he’d lost another chance with her. Admittedly, it was a snowball’s chance in the middle of an Arizona June, but still a chance.
He slid behind the bar. The crowd was big but manageable, and he could use some fresh air. He turned to the other bartender.
“Hey you good for a few minutes? Could use a short break.”
“Sure, Ry.”
Ryan walked out the rear exit, past the dumpster, to a small metal bistro table with a few chairs. He sat down and looked into the clear sky, the stars bright despite being in a city. One of the things he loved about Tucson—skies dark enough to appreciate the show Mother Nature put on every night.
Why was he so bothered by Elissa being here?
She’d told him to fuck off. Nicely, but her meaning was crystal clear.
Once a woman told him to go, he went and never looked back.
But here she was, her eyes just as blue, her smile just as engaging as the one haunting his dreams. But those eyes and that smile weren’t meant for him. He’d fucked up.
That was it. It had been a decade since he’d so royally borked a first date. Hell, most women were more than happy to forgive him once they learned his last name. He’d never even gotten that far with Elissa. His pride was injured, another piece of evidence he was an asshole.
He wasn’t alone with his thoughts for long. Celeste, Iz’s aunt, walked out, sneaking a smoke break. Iz kept telling her to quit. So did he, but Celeste never listened.
“Who’s the girl, mijo?” She took a long drag on her cigarette.
“No one, Celeste.”
She chuckled knowingly. “You were watching her while she was here. It was a little creepy, to be honest, like you were stalking her.”
“I’m not stalking her. She came to my bar.”
“So, why were you watching her?”
“Ugh, I don’t wanna talk about it.”
Celeste took another drag on her cigarette and offered it to him. After he declined, she tossed it on the ground and twisted it out with her foot. She patted his shoulder.
“You’re a good man, Ryan DeMarco, and you’re a kind friend to our Iz.”
Ryan groaned again as Celeste walked back inside. He wasn’t a good man. He was a rich asshole who liked pissing off his parents and having a new woman on his arm every few weeks. Which, to be honest, was because he liked pissing off his parents.
Ryan took a deep breath of the cool evening air, trying not to smell the typical pungent odors behind a restaurant. An unmistakable grinding of an engine refusing to catch drew his attention around the side of the building. A car door slammed, and a strained voice broke the quiet of the evening.
“Bertha, baby, come on. Don’t do this to me.”
He knew that voice, but what was she still doing here?
Slowly, so as not to spook her, he approached.
Elissa stood in front of her car, a battered old BMW, with the hood raised.
She shined the flashlight on her phone into the engine compartment, but from the look on her face—pursed lips twisted to the side and a lovely furrow in her brow—she had no clue what she was doing.
“Can I help you?” He kept his voice smooth and quiet.
It wasn’t good enough. She jumped and almost hit her head on the hood, then stepped back from him. Ryan held up his hand as the light tried to blind him.
“No, thank you. I’ll call AAA.” Her voice was prim with a slight tremble.
“You sure? It would only take a minute for me to take a look.”
“Do you even know what you’re looking for? You said you only worked on your own motorcycle.”
His mouth tried to twitch into a smile at her bitchy tone and the fact she’d remembered that detail about him, but he schooled it back into neutrality.
“I have an idea or two. I’ve learned my way around engines.” Iz’s dad had taught him in high school, and Ryan loved tinkering.
“I’m not some damsel in distress for you to rescue.”
“Never said you were. A lot of guys are clueless about engines, as much as we like to pretend otherwise. Plus, it’s kinda the least I could do after our date.” He owed her so much more than a quick look at her engine.
She arched an eyebrow at him. Oh dear God, she was fucking adorable when she tried to look disapproving. But instead of giving her his panty-dropping smile, he tried to look chagrinned. It was hard—those muscles hadn’t gotten a workout lately. Perhaps he was letting his ego grow a bit too much.
“Yes, it is.” Her tone softened, and she gestured broadly at the engine compartment, a game show girl revealing a prize.
Ryan had his own phone out and shined the light over the engine. Everything looked in order. In fact, for a car over a decade old, things were in great shape.
“Your battery’s probably dead. We keep a jump starter in the office. Come inside with me while I find it. You don’t need to be out here alone in the dark. The guy you were with should’ve stayed.”
She cleared her throat and stared at her feet, which were clad in Vans painted in an impressionistic style. “Um, he didn’t know I was still here.”
“Elissa, did you hide from your date?”
“Oh, so you remember my name this time?”
He let the fact she didn’t answer his question slide. “You’re hard to forget. And there was no way I could forget your name when I didn’t even know it in the first place.”
“Okay, fair.” Her lips twitched as she almost smiled.
“Let’s go inside.”
Ryan walked toward the back door, staying in front of Elissa so she wouldn’t get freaked out by having an unknown man walk behind her. But close enough in case anyone was lurking. Anyone besides him, that is.
He held the door open and Elissa slipped inside.
“Second door on the right,” he said.
He followed her down the hall, and she waited on the far side of the office door. He ducked inside, found the jump starter, and was out in under thirty seconds.
“Is this your office?” she asked, all traces of, admittedly deserved, bitchiness gone, replaced by simple curiosity. He could work with curiosity.
“Oh no, I’m just a bartender.”
“No such thing.” She smiled for real.
“Thank you for your vote of confidence.” God, what he wouldn’t do to earn more of her smiles.
“My best friend’s parents own this place, and everyone knows where the jump starter is.
Food service workers rarely have super-reliable, late-model vehicles.
And some of our customers occasionally need a jump.
It’s handy to have. Surprised you don’t have one with an older car. ”
She bit her lip. As cute as she looked with an eyebrow raised, she looked drop-dead gorgeous biting her lip. All he wished to do was kiss her until she forgot why she was biting it.
He turned and walked down the hall and out the door instead. No kissing the damsel in distress. Especially after suggesting she’d make satisfactory arm candy. Not until he properly apologized.
“I did.” She chuckled wryly. “My sister borrowed it.”
“I need to have a talk with your sister.”
“Everyone needs to have a talk with my sister. Ami is the wild child in the family.”
The exact type of woman he usually pursued. But he had no interest in her sister. Elissa had captured his attention, his fantasies, and he desperately wanted her to be safe.
“Get on in and turn the key when I tell you.”
He attached the jump starter and gave the word. The Beemer’s engine turned over like a dream. He unhooked the cables and closed the hood with a solid thunk.
Elissa rolled down the window. “Thank you.”
“Like I said, it’s the least I could do.
I owe you an apology, Elissa. I’m sorry for suggesting you’d only be good for impressing my parents.
You deserve a whole hell of a lot better from any man.
There’s no excuse, but I’m used to people wanting to be around me so they can meet my family.
I didn’t want you to leave, so I offered the thing most people wouldn’t turn down.
I misjudged you and insulted you, and for that I am truly, deeply sorry. ”
She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “One question.”
“Anything.”
“Is your name actually Ryan?”
“Yeah, it is. Strange world, isn’t it?”
The genuine, delight-filled smile only reinforced his opinion. He’d do anything to see it again.
“Well, Ryan, it was nice meeting you. The real you, this time.”
“Goodnight, Elissa. Drive safe.”
She wiggled her fingers at him, rolled up her window, and inched away. Only after she turned onto the street did Ryan register he’d forgotten to shoot his shot and ask for her number.