Sweet Revenge

by Rebecca Zanetti

  Chapter 4

  Those are the ground rules? Oh no he hadn’t. Laney scrubbed the table clean in the quiet bar after the luncheon, her mind spinning, her legs wobbling. After her employee had laid down the law, she’d refused to rise to the bait in a crowded room. Keeping her dignity, she’d returned to lunch and the interested glances from her friends. Yes. The hottie had kissed her.

  Bastard.

  Who the hell did he think he was? Even worse, why was she still turned on by the kiss? He was just a guy.

  She snorted. Matt Dean was nowhere near a normal guy. Normal guys didn’t fill out their shirts like that… nor did they make her world explode with one little kiss. Hiring him had been a colossal mistake. She’d lived her early years with somebody else’s moods controlling her life, and she refused to do so again. No person, no matter how sexy, would ever set ground rules for her.

  Of course, the women at lunch had all declared they were coming back for a business drink during the upcoming weekend. Yeah, right. They were coming back to ogle the new bouncer. The fact that he’d kissed her seemed to entice them even more.

  How dare he kiss her.

  “You’re gonna rub the sealant on the table into nothing,” a guttural voice said from the doorway.

  She jumped and turned around. “Darn it, Smitty. Don’t scare me like that.”

  Smitty grinned, and his gold front tooth glittered. He’d combed back his gray hair and donned green suspenders to keep his pants up. “What has you all tangled up?” Hitching his belly, he sauntered around the bar to begin cutting lemons.

  “Nothing.” She stretched her back, turned, and threw the dishrag at him.

  He caught it one-handed. “Uh-huh.”

  She blew out air. Smitty had been her first hire three years ago when she’d opened the bar, and she couldn’t run the place without him. “By the way, I hired a backup bartender and bouncer for the next two weeks.” If she didn’t kill Matt first.

  “Good.” Smitty turned toward the limes. “We need help with those bikers. Tell me you hired a badass.”

  “I hired a badass.” One with the body of a god and the ego of a demon. “I’m sure he’ll come in handy.” She nearly choked on her casual tone of voice.

  “Good.” Smitty kept slicing. “Did you remember the Jack Daniel’s?”

  Darn it. She sighed. “No. Completely forgot.” Hustling to the bar, she fetched her purse from the bottom shelf. “The shipment will be here tomorrow, so we need… what? Two bottles?”

  “Make it four. The bikers arrive today.” Smitty gathered the slices to place in containers. “Drive carefully. There’s a storm coming.”

  She nodded, her keys already in her hand as she headed out the back door and down the alley to her compact. Clouds rolled high above, and the wind scattered leaves against the brick buildings. Hopefully she’d make it back before the storm hit—and maybe she could get a couple of great pictures of the action. Hopping inside her car, she quickly drove through the small town to the liquor store to the west. After making her purchases, she headed back to her car and stopped short.

  The hair stood up on the back of her neck.

  The left windshield wiper secured a piece of paper flapping in the wind. Her breath heated, and she scanned the empty parking lot. Most people had headed indoors before the storm descended. Swallowing, she looked inside the car to make sure nobody was waiting. The backseat remained empty, so she opened the door and slipped the bag of alcohol onto the floor. Steeling her shoulders, she shut the door and marched around the car to retrieve the note.

  I’ve been watching you. Hastily scrawled letters covered the paper in black ink. Fear slithered down her back, while bile tried to climb up her throat. If the note spoke the truth, then somebody was probably watching her right now.

  No way would they want to miss out on seeing her reaction.

  She was smart enough to know their motivation for leaving a note was to make her feel vulnerable and haunted. So she hardened her eyes and looked around. Forest land sat to the west and north, while town sat to the south. Wind slapped leaves against her boots and shot a chill down her spine. If they wanted to see fear, they were out of luck.

  She forced a smile onto her trembling lips and flipped off the forest.

  If some coward wanted to leave her anonymous notes, no way was she going to let him know he scared her. Could it be Greg? Just as soon as the thought crossed her mind, she discarded it. If Greg had wanted to leave her a note, he’d write a bunch of silly, purple prose in it. This note was threatening and definitely not from Greg. She slid inside the car, locked the doors, and drove away from the store, her hands shaking.

  Confusion clouded her thoughts. The people after her wouldn’t leave threatening notes. In fact, she doubted she’d even see them coming. Everyone had secrets, and she’d done what she had to do in order to buy the bar and settle down in safety. The small town had given her a home, and the bar had given her security. Looking back wouldn’t do any good. Even so, that’s exactly what she did while driving back to the bar. Nobody followed her.

  Dragging the booze in, she slapped the note on the bar in front of Smitty. “Apparently I’m being watched.”

  The bartender tugged spectacles from his back pocket and squinted as he read. His eyes widened. “That’s creepy. Have you noticed anybody weird around?”

  “No.” The only new person around was Matt. She set a bottle of Jack on the shelf behind Smitty and stacked the rest on shelves under the bar.

  “Think it’s the pharmacist?” Smitty shoved a gnarled hand through his hair, concern wrinkling his forehead.

  She tossed her purse to the back. “Not really.”

  “Hmmm. You should go to the cops.”

  “No.” Dread stuck her feet in place. “You know I can’t go to the police.”

  Smitty sighed. “Calling the cops might not be the risk you think.” His faded blue eyes narrowed behind the glasses. “Though, since this isn’t a threat, we could probably wait it out.”

  She’d let it slip one night while drinking that the money she’d used for the bar had come from a dubious source. “I’d like to wait.”

  Smitty grimaced. “Since the bar is now flush, have you ever thought of paying back the loan shark? I mean, I know your brother borrowed the money, and you have a different name from him, but still, the guy may find you someday. Even though he’s a loan shark, you still kind of stole from him. You could be arrested.”

  “The compounded interest would be too much, and after all this time, the guy probably wants me dead.” She tucked the note in her jeans and turned to open the front door. The less Smitty knew about her past, the better.

  He wrinkled his nose. “I promised I’d keep the secret, and I will. So let’s forget about it.”

  “Good plan.” She unlocked the door.

  Matt strode into the room and headed for Smitty. “Matt Dean.”

  “Smitty Jones.” They shook hands, sizing each other up.

  Laney leaned against the door, her head tilted. Would Smitty like Matt?

  Finally, Smitty smiled. “You any good behind the bar?”

  “I do all right.” Matt cut his eyes to Laney and back. “What kind of trouble are you expecting from the bikers?”

  “Depends how much they drink.” Smitty wiped down the bar. “For the most part, they’re good guys. But somehow we attract troublemakers during this week. I figure you can handle yourself.”

  Apparently the sizing up was over. Laney sauntered over to the bar. “We’ll need you to back up Smitty, deliver drinks if necessary, and step in if anybody gets rowdy. Feel free to card anybody who looks younger than twenty-one. All right, handsome?”

  Matt nodded. The fire in Laney’s sparking green eyes glowed with both irritation and desire. Matt had been trained to read people from day one. The woman had enjoyed their kiss earlier.

  Yeah, it had been stupid kissing his boss, especially since he had a job to do. Problem was he’d like to do it again
, and right now. The challenging tilt of her chin spurred him in a way he hadn’t felt before, and a force inside him wanted to explore the idea. To explore her.

  Which, of course, would be a disaster.

  Even so, his gaze tracked her tight hips as she kept moving toward him. Finally coming to a stop, she put her hands on her hips. The move tightened the material across her breasts.

  He swallowed, his brain slipping from calculation to male interest. The pain from his wounds lessened, and the fierce rein he kept on his emotions unfurled. He hadn’t realized how tight he’d been wound until he’d allowed her ample chest to distract him.

  His jeans were suddenly too tight. Damn it. He needed to get a grip on reality instead of the beauty in front of him. So he leaned over the bar to fetch another dishrag and stopped as a noise sounded outside the door. A shuffling noise… two heartbeats, one heavy breather. Emphysema, if he had to guess.

  The door opened, and two elderly men shuffled inside. Worn, leathered, the duo had obviously made an effort to straighten up tattered clothing, their gray hair slicked back. The one with the breathing problems coughed. “Are we late, Laney?”

  Laney shook her head. “You’re right on time, Rufus.” She gestured toward the bar. “Have a seat. Boys, this is Matt, and he’ll be helping out for the next couple of weeks.”

  Rufus lifted an eyebrow lined with a deep scar as he hitched himself up on a bar stool. “New bouncer?”

  “New bouncer,” Laney affirmed as she hastened behind the bar. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I’m Aaron,” the other man said, hopping onto a stool, his faded blue eyes sweeping Matt. “A Thunderbird, many years ago. You serve?”

  “Marines.” Matt lied smoothly.

  “Thought I recognized a grunt.” Rufus leaned his elbows on the bar.

  Close enough. There wasn’t really a name or rank for who he was, so Matt nodded.

  Laney bustled back out from the kitchen, two steaming bowls of soup in her hand. “Okay. This is the new chicken noodle recipe, and I’m worried about the spice content. Taste for salt as well as the undefinable.” She set the soup down in front of the men and whipped spoons out from a drawer. “If you’re not too full after this, I have a new bread recipe I’d like you to try.”

  The men dug in with happy murmurs.

  Laney grinned at Matt. “Rufus and Aaron are the best tasters in town. They pretty much saved my chicken cacciatore recipe.”

  “Too much oregano,” Rufus said around a mouthful of noodles while Aaron sagely nodded.

  Matt’s heart thumped. Hard. The little bartender was feeding the down-and-out in a way that spared their dignity. Just when he thought she couldn’t get any sweeter, she knocked his knees out from under him.

  Another two heartbeats thumped from outside, one fast, and one slow. Now who was coming for food? He turned as the door opened and an elderly woman hitched inside followed by a toddler, who skipped around her and rushed toward Laney.

  Laney caught the boy and picked him up, smacking noisy kisses along his cheek. “There’s my favorite boy.”

  “I caught a frog.” The kid grinned and revealed a gap in his front teeth.

  “I love frogs.” Laney set him down, and a quick flash of sorrow flashed in her eyes to be quickly banished. “Go sit by Rufus, and I’ll get you some special soup.”

  Did the little boy make her sad, or did all kids sadden her? Matt narrowed his focus and tried to read more of her movements.

  Smitty set down the glass he was cleaning and pivoted to head into the kitchen. “I’ll get the soup.”

  The kid held up a finger wrapped with a bandage. “I cut my finger, but don’t worry, Laney. You can’t see the blood because Granny covered it up.”

  So everyone knew about the woman’s fear of blood. How many times had she fainted, anyway? Matt rubbed a hand through his hair. Laney was so delicate she actually couldn’t stand the sight of blood. He’d spilled it, and he’d lost plenty of it. They couldn’t be more different as people.

  Somehow, that made him want her even more.

  “Good. No blood.” Laney rubbed the kid’s wild hair.

  He grinned. “Where’s the cat?”

  “He’s out hunting for squirrels.” Laney pointed across the room. “If you look behind the bar, there’s a bag with your name on it, Phillip.”

  The kid gasped and dashed around the bar, his little legs pumping. Out of sight, he made plenty of noise until running back around with a bright green backpack. “It’s from the general store. For school.” Delight lifted his small lips.

  The elderly woman shook her head. “You shouldn’t have.”

  “Of course I should have,” Laney said, her eyes softening. “Every kid should have a new backpack for the school year.”

  “You’re too nice.” The woman tugged a stack of papers from her pocket. “I have the forms to get reduced-price lunches for Phillip at kindergarten next week, but I can’t figure out how to fill out Section C.” Her eyes widened as she focused on Matt. “Oh my.”

  Laney gently led the woman over to a bar stool. “June, this is Matt.”

  “New bouncer?” June asked, her papery cheeks turning pink.

  “New bouncer,” Rufus and Aaron said in unison.

  Smitty returned with two more bowls of soup, which he placed in front of the newcomers.

  Laney took the papers and spread them over a free spot on the bar. “Let’s take a look at Section C, shall we?”

  Close to midnight, Matt finished busing a table, his attention on two guys at the far pool table. They’d finished several shots of whiskey, and their voices were rising. He figured somebody would throw a punch after another drink or two, but using his enhanced senses, he could tell they weren’t quite ready to rumble. So he shot them a look that should make them behave for a few minutes and grabbed a garbage bag to run outside.

  An old wound in his ankle pounded. Inflicted by Cadet Emery during a knife-fighting exercise, the injury reminded Matt daily of his nemesis.

  Emery had broken protocol and tried to stab Shane in the heart during the exercise, and only Matt’s quick reflexes in kicking out had saved his brother. He’d taken the knife to the ankle and still tackled Emery to the ground, whispering that if Emery ever made such an attempt again, he’d die. Instantly. Emery had snarled that someday he’d kill Matt with great pleasure.

  Now it seemed as if Emery wouldn’t need to even try, considering the chips would soon detonate. Matt shook himself back to the present, taking several deep breaths to ground his concentration. He didn’t need to spend time in the past; the present was dangerous enough.

  Yet he found himself calming and appreciating the serene moment.

  Late at night, the alley was quiet and peaceful. He’d spent the entire night quelling arguments and avoiding grabby female hands. His ass had been pinched more than once, and each time it had startled more than irritated him. While he wanted to stay in the alley, the drunks inside were probably ready to fight each other, so he headed back toward the door.

  It opened, and Laney barreled into him, a garbage bag in her hands. He caught her arms to prevent her from falling back. Nicely toned muscle, warm and feminine, filled his palms.

  His groin shot into instant awareness.

  She settled herself, blinking those gorgeous eyes up at his. In the darkness, his enhanced sight noted her dilating pupils and increased heart rate. She swallowed and licked her lips.

  He wanted to lick those lips.

  She cleared her throat. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Needed some air.” He took the garbage and tossed the bag in the Dumpster across the alley.

  Her eyebrows lifted. “Nice aim.”

  “Thanks.” Why did the pint-sized bar owner affect him like this? Feelings for her would lead to weakness, to a vulnerable spot his enemies would blow wide open. Even so, his fingers itched to brush a curl off her face, so he tucked his hands in his pockets. “Seems like the business is doing we
ll tonight.”

  “Yes, although I’m glad we close in thirty minutes.” She smiled, her eyes twinkling. “My ratio of female to male customers seems to have increased rapidly.”

  He frowned. What did that mean? “Um, okay.”

  She drew in a deep breath and tilted her head to the star-filled sky. “This is my spot, you know.”

  Matt glanced around the quiet alley. The place was clean and still smelled like honeysuckle. “I get that.”

  “Sometimes I need to escape the noise and people.” She pulled his hand from his jeans to tug him down to sit on the steps. “Close your eyes and listen.”

  Her touch calmed the turmoil always in his head, and his shoulders relaxed. It had been so long since he’d allowed someone to touch him, since he’d taken a moment to appreciate the energy of a woman. From the second he’d learned about Jory’s death, he’d started to close himself off from anything but revenge and survival.

  His constant companion of pain lightened its choke hold.

  Her hold lessened, and he knew she was going to pull away. He didn’t want to be left cold, and he didn’t want the pain to win again. Not yet.

  Panic rippled through him, and he tangled his fingers through hers in an innocent touch that felt like so much more. Who was this woman? If he wasn’t careful, he’d forget completely about the woman he really needed to find. Yet he kept Laney’s hand, and he’d fight to the last breath to keep it a few more moments. “Listen to what?”

  Laney glanced down at their entwined hands and then up to his face. Knowledge and a shared loneliness curved her pink lips. “To the quiet. Now listen.” She closed her eyes and sighed.

  A pathetic gratefulness filtered through him at being allowed to keep her hand. The soft moonlight played across her classic features in a way that made his chest hurt. She wore scuffed boots, faded jeans, and a dark tank top, yet she looked like a princess from a fairy tale. He’d met real princesses. They didn’t come close to this woman.