“Hey,” he said. “You still working tonight?”
She frowned. “Of course. It’s Friday. Best tips.”
“You’ve had a hell of a week. If you don’t want to put up with all the crowds, I can call someone else in.”
She shook her head. “I need to work.”
“This isn’t about money, is it?”
“I’ve got bills to pay, Ollie. That doesn’t change because I’m staying with you. And you need to let me chip in for groceries. I heard you tell Vicky this morning to buy enough food for an army.”
“You’re not paying for groceries,” he growled.
“Then we’re going to my dad’s.”
He glared. “The hell you are.”
Ollie had plenty of money, and he liked spending it on her and the kids. Why did she have to argue with him?
“If you don’t let me pay my way, we are.” She glared at him right back. “My family is not some kind of charity case. I refuse to—”
“What was that envelope Alex gave you, huh?”
Bright red streaked her cheeks. “He heard about the kids’ rooms,” she whispered. “Gave me some money to replace their stuff. He wouldn’t let me say no. It wasn’t from him, it was clan money.”
“So the wolves can help you out, but I can’t?”
“They’re family. You’re my friend. It’s different. You already gave me a job.”
Her friend. For the first time, the label grated. He was tired of being her damn friend. If he had a greater claim on her, she wouldn’t be able to argue.
Okay, she’d argue, but he’d have better leverage.
“I know you don’t like it,” she continued over his silence, “but it’s different. When my mom was alive, she contributed to the clan. Not a lot, but some. But if you give me money—”
“You might have to relax about it and maybe say thank you,” he said. “That would be horrible.”
Her eyes were bright with tears, but he knew they were the angry variety. He shut up. She cried when she got angry, and he knew she hated it. He didn’t want to provoke her.
“I see we’re back to Ollie being an asshole,” she said. “Good to know.”
She leaned back, crossed her arms, and they didn’t say another word the entire way home.
THE silence continued at the bar. The Cave was hopping with a popular cover band from Coachella, and most of the tables were happy and shouting. A few couples were dancing, and the drinks were flowing. Even the Quinns were behaving, other than a group of the younger cousins trying to charm a few girls passing through on their way to the river.
It wasn’t Ollie’s job to prevent poor judgment.
It was the kind of night he normally loved. Mostly locals with a few visitors mixed in. Heads thrown back and a few playful howls the full humans laughed off. But Ollie couldn’t shake his foul mood.
“You have been glaring daggers at her all night,” Tracey said when she sidled up to him behind the bar. “What happened? I thought you two—”
“Leave it.”
Tracey’s eyebrows flew up her forehead. It was a warning shot that made every Campbell or Allen man wary. “Oh, I don’t think so, Oliver Campbell. Don’t make me have my man beat your ass for being rude to me. I am not your cute little fox, too polite to argue with you.”
“She argues with me plenty.”
“So that’s what’s up your butt?” Tracey rolled her eyes. “Get over it. She knows her own mind, and there is nothing wrong with that. If you’re lucky, you’ll spend the next fifty years arguing with that woman. Better get used to it now.”
“It’s so strange,” he said. “It’s almost like I pay you to stand around and interfere in my personal life.”
She laughed. “Cranky old man.”
“Younger than you.”
“Doesn’t make you any less of a cranky old man.” She leaned toward him and smiled. “I know how to work the cranky out of my old man. Bet she does too.”
He put a hand on Tracey’s shoulder and turned her one hundred eighty degrees, pointing her back to the loaded tray she needed to carry out to table two. She laughed at him and took off, but he worried she’d do something to interfere.
Was he worried she’d interfere or hopeful?
He had silently filled four more orders for the frustrating fox by the time he noticed her red cheeks and bright eyes.
“What?” he asked.
She looked up, her blush only growing brighter. “What what?”
He scowled and she took off with her tray, only to deliver it to a booth with four guys, two of whom were smiling and laughing as she approached. For a second, he was about to go out to the floor, then he saw Tracey approach.
He settled. Tracey was a pro and she was able to defuse most situations with a laugh or a sharp word.
But…
She wasn’t diverting the men’s attention. She put one arm around Allie’s waist and leaned in, teasing her about something before Tracey pinched the cheek of the youngest-looking guy.
What the…?
When one of the guys offered Allie a card, his cousin’s wife took it and put it Allie’s apron before she walked off laughing. Then she turned back to the bar and raised a single, challenging eyebrow.
Ollie scowled. Tracey could try to interfere, but he knew Allie wasn’t the kind of waitress who picked up customers.
His eyes went back to her. She was still at the table, but now the other three men were watching the band and drinking while the one who’d given Allie his card chatted with her. And the look on her face…
She was smiling. Her eyes were relaxed, and he could see the usual tension she always carried in her shoulders was gone. Her cheeks still carried a faint blush, but she was talking with the guy, who didn’t appear to be an asshole. He was looking at her eyes, not her breasts.
Shit.
You think you’re going to be able to handle seeing her go out with another guy under your nose?
What if she did? What if this asshole came and picked her up at his house for a date?
She finally left the table and moved through her section, picking up empties and taking orders while she chatted with customers. The bright, sweet look on her face never left, and Ollie knew she was having fun. Allie was one of the rare people who actually liked helping customers. It was tiring, sure, but she thrived on the energy too.
“Ollie.” She was at the bar. “I need four DBAs, a glass of merlot, two Pinot Grigios. And two Jack and Cokes when you get a chance.”
He started pulling pints while she unloaded her empties. He was making the mixed drinks when she came behind the bar.
“I’ll get the wine.”
“Having fun?”
Her smile lit up her face. “I am. Feels good to be busy, and the band’s good, right? I remember them from last time. Fun night.”
“Yeah.”
She finished pouring the red and opened the white.
“I don’t pay you to flirt with customers, Allie.”
She splashed the white wine over her hand. Then she set the bottle down on the bar and put her hands on her hips.
“You—”
“Hey!” Tracey said, leaning over the bar and grabbing Allie’s tray. “I’ll get this. Allie, take a break. I think the guy at five just went out for a smoke.”
Allie’s eyes met his in challenge, and before she could walk away, Ollie grabbed her arm.
“I don’t think so.”
He marched her back to his office and slammed the door as Allie shook off his hand.
“What. The. Hell?” She was furious. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“If you go out with that guy, I’ll break his arms.”
“You asshole!” she yelled. “He was being nice!”
“He was not just being nice, Allie. Are you that naive?”
She sneered. “Do I look like a little girl? I’m not stupid, Ollie, even though you think I’m still some kind of innocent teenager.”
Ollie crossed his arms. “Yeah, no. That’s not it.”
“He was being nice to me. He’s sweet. He’s a real estate agent from Indio who likes music. And yeah! He was flirting with me. It felt nice!”
Nice? Fuck nice. He wasn’t ever going to be nice.
“And you know what?” She continued to rail at him. “There’s nothing wrong with my feeling nice. Nothing wrong with my feeling like a woman instead of a worn-out wreck all the time. You and Sean joke and tease me, but at the end of the day, you still see me as Poor Little Allie with all her kids and her prob— What are you doing?”
Ollie was done. He stalked over to her until she was backed against the door. Then he leaned down, put his hands on that perfect ass, and lifted her until they were face-to-face.
“This”—he pressed her against the back of the door and wrapped her legs around his waist—“is me setting you straight, Allison Smith.”
He kissed her.
It started out simple. He didn’t want to lose control. He needed to be careful—
Then her mouth parted in shock, she let out a little gasp, and he felt her breath on his lips.
Her head hit the door when his mouth took hers. He reached one hand up and cradled her head, angling her mouth so he could take her deeper. She tasted like sweet tea. She smelled like heaven.
Ollie lost it.
His hips pressed forward to pin her to the wall, the hand on her ass squeezed and held, her body a delicious handful he wanted to eat up. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her mouth opened to his, her tongue driving deep in his mouth on a moan. One hand gripped a handful of the hair at his nape, raising every hair on his body as he tried to ignore the scent of her arousal as it grew lush between them.
It was everything.
He’d spent years imagining what it would be to kiss her. Hold her in his arms. But the violence of his possession shocked him into drawing back.
“No,” she breathed out, pulling his mouth back to hers.
He groaned and leaned in. The hand that had cradled her head caressed her cheek, and she let his mouth go, moving to kiss his palm, her head tilting to the side and exposing her neck. Ollie bent down and put his mouth at the soft skin there, flicking his tongue against the pounding pulse. Allie drew his thumb into her mouth and sucked hard, then slid her teeth across the callused flesh. Ollie pulled her head to the side to expose more of her neck.
She tilted her head back and let out a gasp when he bit down on her collarbone, the soft wing of it something he’d wanted to bite for years.
“Ollie—”
“No.” He took her mouth again. He didn’t want to stop. Didn’t want her to start talking again. Didn’t even want her thinking. He wanted only this. The liquid heat between them and the promise of satisfaction so near he could taste it in the give of her flesh and her welcoming lips.
He bit down on her lower lip, then sucked it into his mouth when she gasped. He shifted her closer, letting her feel the solid arousal that pulsed between them. Hard against soft. He squeezed and angled her hips like he would when he took her.
The tiny, begging moans from her throat were enough to make him forget everything.
He wanted her. Only her.
She pulled away from his mouth, gasping. “Ollie!”
“I do not”—he scraped his teeth along her jawline—“want you flirting…”
“What?” Her head fell back and hit against the door.
“…with anyone but me.”
Ollie captured her earlobe, determined to taste everything. Sample every bit of her he’d dreamed about. He wanted to know the flavor of her belly and the taste of her breasts. He’d savor the smooth skin at her ankle and feast on the spice of the flesh between her thighs. He would know every inch of her. Because she would be his.
“No one but me,” he said, pressing his hips closer and squeezing his hand on her backside. “And I will never be nice.”
“Nice?” Her head fell back and her eyelashes fluttered. “What…?”
Ollie feathered his lips over hers and whispered, “But, Allison, I will rock you like—”
A loud bang came at the door.
“Hey, lovebirds!” Tracey shouted. “We’re dying out here. Break’s over.”
They froze. Ollie realized he still had a handful of Allie’s ass and her legs were locked around his hips in a very promising position.
“Allie?”
She slapped his shoulder. “Let me down!”
Her heart pounded against his chest. He didn’t want to let her down. If he let her down and she ran—
“Please.” Her head fell against his chest. “I can’t… I can’t think about this right now. I need to go back to work. I won’t flirt with that guy, okay? Lesson learned.”
Wait… what?
“Allie—”
“Please let me go,” she whispered. “I need to get back to work.”
Without another word, he released her, carefully sliding her down his body. She let out a small breath when her belly raked against his erection, but he stepped back and let her straighten her clothes before she slipped out the door.
What had just happened?
Chapter Thirteen
AVOIDING SOMEONE IN A SMALL TOWN was difficult. Avoiding someone when you lived in their house was darn near impossible.
Allie had never been so grateful she had four noisy, time-sucking children.
“Allie?”
Ollie almost caught her in the hallway, but she slammed Loralie’s door closed. “Gotta get the baby dressed!”
Loralie looked up at her with wide eyes. “That wasn’t nice, Mama.”
“I know it wasn’t. I’ll say sorry later.”
Much later. Possibly never if she could manage it.
She went to the dresser and pulled out some grub clothes for Loralie that wouldn’t be ruined at Allie’s dad’s store while she heard Ollie pace for a few minutes before he walked away.
Tracey had taken mercy on her the night before and given her a ride home so she wouldn’t have to wait for Ollie to close up. By the time she heard his boots on the front porch, she was in bed. And she ignored the quiet tap at her door.
Saturday morning, she had the excuse of heading to the feed store with Chris and Loralie while Kevin and Mark worked in the shop with Ollie.
Saturday was her father’s busiest day because Smith Feed doubled as the local garden shop. It had been Allie’s idea to expand the ornamental plant section and sell more than vegetable starts. Because of it, her father’s shop was busy every weekend, and he sold more pet food too.
Of course, it also meant he always needed extra help. Some days it grated on her that every Saturday was spent working. Today it was a relief, even if she was exhausted.
Large hands cupping her backside. Her cheek. The bite of his teeth at her shoulder as he held her against the door.
“Allison, I will rock you…”
She stepped away from the memory that had kept her up all night and dressed Loralie. Then she snuck to the door and listened.
“Mama, what are you doing?”
“What?”
Loralie giggled. “Are we playing?” Her little girl put her ear to the door. “I’ll play too.”
Sighing, Allie realized that she was being ridiculous. She cracked the door open, only to see Ollie leaning against the opposite wall, his arms crossed over his chest and his mouth set in a firm line.
“Good morning, Ollie!” Loralie ran to give his legs a quick hug. “I’m hungry,” she said, then ran down the stairs.
Deserter.
“Morning.”
“Hey.” She waved at him. Because she was lame. “I, um…”
It never paid to forget how quick bears could be despite their size. With a quick shove at the wall, he was on her, pressing her back and planting his lips on hers like he owned them.
Every single thought fled.
So… he maybe owned them a little.
“I wanted”—two quick kis
ses and a sucking taste of her earlobe as he whispered—“to talk to you. And you ran off.”
“This isn’t talking,” she managed to gasp out.
“Mo-om!”
Allie shoved him back a second before Chris and Mark’s door flew open.
Saved by the second grader.
“Why can’t I stay and work in the barn?”
Mark yelled from behind him, “’Cause you’re too little, dork!”
“Do not call your brother a dork,” Allie snapped.
Ollie asked, “Hey, Mark, you want to be sweeping with the little broom all day?”
“Sorry, Chris,” Mark mumbled a second before he slipped out the door and headed toward the stairs.
The one thing Chris was horrible at doing was sitting still. If he was let loose in Ollie’s barn without strict supervision, the seventy-year-old building might just come crashing down.
Allie tried to find a better excuse. “Chris, if you stay with the older boys, then no one will be at the store to play with Loralie. That’s no fun for her.”
His lower lip trembled. “But—”
“You love Grandpa’s store. And you’re always such a good helper, telling people where things are and how they work.”
“But Kevin and Mark—”
“Hey.” Ollie reached over and mussed Chris’s hair. “You need to help your mom with the baby today. You and me will do something later, okay?”
Chris considered this. “Just you and me?”
“Yep. Today’s going to be all work anyway. It won’t be any fun. But I’ll throw the ball with you later if you want.”
“Okay!” Chris bounced down the hallway with Allie following at his heels.
The coward’s way out?
Allie preferred to think of it as a strategic retreat.
Breakfast passed in much of the same blur. Allie made a quick batch of pancakes for the kids while Ollie watched her with heated eyes. With four children around, he couldn’t say anything, and yes, she absolutely took advantage of that.
“See you later!” she called as she herded the younger kids to the car. “Kevin, make sure you help with your brother. Mark, listen to Kevin.”
Ollie leaned against a porch post, and she could have sworn there was a hint of a smile on his face. But what worried her wasn’t the smile, it was his eyes. They were amused. Like he was enjoying this. As if this was a game.
Waking Hearts Page 15
