Stacy raised her eyebrows.
“Okay, maybe you and maybe Laura, but not me. We’re here to eat dinner and have fun. Kirin will be going home … alone,” she announced, finishing her lipstick.
“And forget about what’s-his-name,” Stacy added.
“Yeah and that,” Kirin said, nodding.
Laura shook her head, smiling.
Stacy had talked Kirin into wearing a flirty, flowy dress with cutout shoulders and boots. She felt overdressed, but pretty.
As they walked into the two-story main lobby for both the restaurant and the bar, the hostess smiled wide at Kirin. Only at Kirin. What? Was there something on her dress? Kirin looked back at Stacy to find her head cocked sideways, surveying the hostess, and shrugging her shoulders.
Kirin zoned in on an enormous fish tank filled with all kinds of colorful exotics, something Apollos was known for, so she’d feel less awkward under the hostess’s constant stare.
She tugged at her dress and glanced back. The woman continued to stare. When the hostess found their reservations, she talked and flirted with only Kirin as she placed them at the best dining table on the second floor. Kirin hoped nobody else noticed.
“Well, that was odd,” Stacy said, elbowing Kirin after the hostess walked away.
“Tell me about it.”
“If that dress caught her eye, imagine what it will do for the hordes of men here tonight,” Stacy said as her eyebrows did pushups.
“Is it too much?” Kirin looked down and surveyed her dress. No cleavage showing, only shoulders, and legs. Compared to some of the tiny scraps of material Stacy used to wear when they went out clubbing, it was downright homely.
“Hell, no, you look amazing,” Stacy said, flagging down a waiter for drinks.
Their table overlooked the nightclub on the first floor. They had a perfect view of the entire lit up bar and the pulsing dance floor below. Laura’s jaw dropped, while Stacy bounced up and down in her seat like a three-year-old at Christmas.
Men were everywhere. Good-looking men. Kirin wondered if they’d stumbled upon “free beer and naked women night” as every eligible bachelor within a hundred miles was at the bar below.
Kirin sat closest to the short wall overlooking The Club. People buzzed down below like worker bees extracting honey. Their waiter sprinted up to the table and the girls ordered beers and an appetizer. Laura ordered her usual diet coke then whipped out her phone for the server to take a picture. Moments later, the waiter dropped the food and drinks as he flew by to greet the next guests.
Kirin took a long pull on her beer half listening to Laura and Stacy argue about the best band of the nineties and mesmerized by the flurry of people below. On the other side of the expansive square bar, she spotted a face she recognized. A face that sent anger speeding through her veins like lava. Downing the rest of her beer like a sorority girl, Kirin slammed it back on the table and rose. Her friends stared at her.
“Hey, anybody else need another one? Our waiter looks busy, so I’ll run downstairs and get them. You guys need one?”
Kirin spoke quick. Too quick. Stacy’s eyes narrowed as she glanced over the side of the wall toward the bar below. “Sure, honey. Go find us a beer.” Stacy winked at Laura.
Laura fished in her purse for money, but Kirin waved her off, grabbed her ID and cash, and trotted through the restaurant and down the stairs.
The noise tripled as she walked down the grand staircase into The Club. She was stopped at the bottom of the stairs and had to show her ID. Flattery. Kirin moved through the crowd like a circus performer, sideways through a small gap here and on her tiptoes, there.
When she made it around to the far side of the enormous bar, she slowed her pace. She hoped he hadn’t seen her coming, but he probably had. Kirin looked down the length of the bar where she’d seen his face. Gone.
She pushed up between an empty seat next to two girls. Several empty beer bottles sat like little statues in front of them as they continued what looked like an intense conversation. They didn’t even notice her.
The woman behind the bar had more tattoos on her right hand than most people had on their whole bodies. She smiled and tilted her head back. “What ‘cha need, hon?” she yelled over the music.
“Two Bud Lights, please.”
The bartender jogged over and grabbed two cold bottles out of the freezer. As she uncapped them, she stood directly in front of where he’d been. The bartender dashed back with the bottlenecks intertwined between her fingers and slammed them on the bar. Kirin paid and tipped, then turned and stopped short.
Scar skulked back from the bathrooms, tugging on his too-tight jacket. His face angry, wrinkled, and somehow more sinister than the last time she’d seen him. The tell-tale scar glistened in the reflection of the dance floor lights. He eyeballed a tall woman’s cleavage as he walked by her. Scar smirked as he ogled her. Climbing back up on his seat, he dug into his dinner placed before him.
The man shoved his napkin into his collar as if he starred in an old western. Anger coursed through her. This thug had broken into her house, chased her in the airport, and if she thought about, she was sure he was behind the cryptic texts. He’d made her feel unsafe in her own home. He might have been from the West Coast, but this was the South. He’d have better luck poking a stick at a black bear than going up against an angry Southern woman.
Feeling the brave effects of chugging her frosty beverage, Kirin turned. She took a deep breath, leveled her shoulders, and stomped toward him, carrying the beers.
Was it possible to break a bottle over someone’s head like they do in movies? She smiled at the thought. He’d be sorry. Her mind raced with insults as she bridged the gap between them. She’d give him a piece of her mind, all right.
Grabbed.
Grabbed wasn’t a strong enough word. She was snatched a few feet away from her target. Strong hands picked her up around the waist and in one seamless motion, she was relieved of the beers in her hands, which were placed on a nearby table. Her body was hoisted several feet away to the dance floor by an angry, green-eyed man. A man whose shirt smelled like spice and did things to her resolve. Slow-grinding romantic music played while he yelled at her.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
She pushed his rock-hard chest, but she might as well have been trying to move a house. He didn’t budge, only glared, expecting an answer.
“I thought I told you to stop following me.”
“Old habits die hard. Stop fighting me.” He hissed through gritted teeth.
Her hands stilled on his chest as he swayed to the music, still glaring at her. Chin raised in defiance, she stared right back at him.
“I was only going to introduce myself. You know, Southern hospitality and all.”
Sam bit down on his lip as one corner of his mouth hitched up. But his dark green eyes still held anger.
“I’ve never protected anyone so hell-bent on getting themselves killed.”
When Kirin attempted to look around Sam to find Scar, Sam spun them around, so her back was to the bar. His eyes bored into hers as he nodded back toward Scar.
“That deadly man over there would take pleasure in choking the life out of you, right here in this bar. He’d pay his bill, spit on your lifeless body, and waltz out the door.”
Kirin glanced toward Scar, who ate his food as if someone was about to steal it. Elbows out, head down and shoveling. The tattooed bartender observed Kirin and Sam with crossed arms and a furrowed brow.
She’d better make it seem as if she wanted to dance with him. Kirin swayed to the slow music. He pulled her closer. Her stupid heart flapped wildly. She told herself it was because of her run in with Scar. And not because of this man holding her.
Sam wrapped his arms tighter around Kirin’s waist and for a second, she pretended it was real. After a few moments, she laid her head on his chest and breathed in the familiar scent of him. She stole a glance up at him. His eyes were closed. He
was a good actor. She closed her eyes again. It was easier that way.
“Pretty dress.” His voice was raspy and low.
“Thanks,” she said into his chest.
The song ended, but they continued to sway. When Kirin opened her eyes to look around, Scar was gone. Sam held one hand on her waist as he leaned over to the corner of the empty table and grabbed the beers placing them back in her hand.
“Go back upstairs, eat something, then go straight home, got me?”
Unaffected. He was unaffected by her. She was only a target to be protected. A paycheck. Kirin shook her head and stomped around him to leave.
Sam grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him. Hard. Her chest pressed against the top of his abs. Sam pulled her chin up to look him in the eyes. He snagged a loose strand of hair and gently wrapped it around her ear, pushing her long hair behind her exposed shoulder. He grazed her shoulder with his fingers, sending electricity to her lower parts.
“You’re killin’ me, woman, you know that, right?”
Kirin shook her head no. Sam leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek.
“Please, go home … alone.” He breathed into her ear.
Mind swirling, Kirin broke free and took the stairs two at a time. When she rounded the corner back toward the restaurant Todd, Stacy’s fiancé stood at their table, red-faced and yelling. “…So you came here on meat night? You’re telling me you didn’t know it was men’s night? Come on, Stace, I’m a whole lot smarter than that.”
Stacy rose as tall as Todd. Her voice lowered to a growl. “You listen here, you little prick, I came here to cheer Kirin up, nothing more. You need to get your head outta your ass and realize that for some odd reason, I love you. I’m not going anywhere. And I’m sure as hell not out here trying to find a replacement for you. But if you don’t stop acting like an immature ass, I just might.”
Stacy sat hard, with her back straight as a rod, took a swig of her beer, and slammed it back on the table shoving a chip into her mouth. She never even blinked. Todd stared at her, grabbed her beer, shook his head, and left with it.
Laura sat still, wide-eyed.
Kirin placed a new beer in front of Stacy, then sat and waited.
Stacy shoved three more chips into her mouth as the restaurant resumed its noise level. She turned, glancing at Kirin as the color returned to her face.
“What took you so long and why are you so red-faced?” Stacy took a long pull of the fresh one, her hands trembling.
“Long line and I ran up the steps two at a time.” It was partially the truth.
Stacy pulled her beer away from her mouth and shot Kirin a look of disbelief. Finally, she broke into a smile.
“He’s good looking.”
Kirin had just stuffed a chip loaded with spinach dip into her mouth and stopped mid-chew. Swallowing hard, she turned to Stacy.
“Who?” she replied innocently.
“The tall stubble-faced man who danced provocatively with you and kissed you. Would that be Sam?”
Kirin stuttered, “Oh…him. Well, yeah.”
Laura leaned forward, eyebrows high and hopeful.
Sam would never stop protecting her, it was his job. She had to defend herself and her boys, but she needed answers even more. She wanted to know how far his loyalty ran with the black suits. And if she could trust him.
She had a dangerously sexy man sending her mixed signals. Kirin closed her eyes to drown out the thumping of The Club music. Was Sam that good of an actor?
Kirin sat, eyes closed, shaking her head trying to make sense of it all when Stacy’s hand rested on the back of her chair.
“No worries, love, you don’t have to know tonight. I’m glad he showed up, though. Prior to my dumbass fiancé showing up, you were smiling when you came up the stairs. That’s a great start.” Stacy winked at her and took another swig of her beer.
After they finished appetizers and more drinks than any of them were used to, the three paid their bill and headed to The Club downstairs. Scar was nowhere in sight. The three sat at a table, drank coffee and relived old times. Her stomach muscles felt tighter because of all the laughter.
Laura yawned making Kirin touch her watch. Midnight-crap. She’d really meant to do as Sam asked and go home early. Who was she kidding? No, she didn’t. He didn’t get to tell her what to do. And anyway, she’d had fun.
The three friends left the restaurant and Laura drove them home.
Kirin paid her babysitter, locked the doors and formulated a plan in the shower. Sam obviously knew much more about her situation and her father’s business than she gave him credit for. Could she glean information from him? He knew her father and her late husband. He knew about the book, and he knew the goons following her.
Maybe he could explain why the book was so important. Might be worth buying him dinner to discover the truth. She’d have to figure out a way to shut off her heart to do this, though. She didn’t want to believe it was real.
Then again, if Sam could pretend, she could play that game too, right?
Chapter Nineteen
Wednesday morning Kirin jumped up and got ready in a flash. She ignored her three-beer headache. Months prior, she’d signed up for a continuing education course in nearby Sevierville, near the Smoky Mountains. She needed the credit, and if nothing else, she might squeeze in a hike. The course would end at noon and she’d be too close to the mountains not to go. She packed a separate bag with hiking clothes and shoes, just in case, and then threw on a T-shirt dress, flats, and a sweater for her morning class. Comfortable and easy.
The sweet smell of spring wafted into her car window as she drove to her local quick mart for a hot cup of coffee. She turned the heat on. Spring mornings were often close to freezing. Later in the day though, she’d change it to A/C. Caffeine was mandatory for the headache and the forty-five-minute drive.
She pulled into an empty parking space right in front of the doors. Three spaces down sat a red truck. Of course. Sam knew where all her favorite places were. Here was her chance to make up and possibly snag an information-date. She checked her lip gloss in the mirror, told her heart to power down and walked into the store, shoulders back with a ton of confidence.
~*~
Sam filled his mug with coffee toward the back of the store near the drink machines. His head pounded from the loud music in The Club. His mind shifted to Kirin. Her long blonde hair sweeping across the back of that dress he couldn’t seem to rip his eyes from.
And the brave way she stomped toward danger. Brave or careless, he couldn’t decide. God she had a death wish sometimes. Had to talk Saul’s brother off the damn ledge afterward. Took a while to get it through his thick skull that getting the book back took time.
His back was to the door, but he knew. Knew she was there. He could sense her and that was weird.
When she tried to creep up behind him, her perfume reached him before she did. He inhaled with his eyes closed, opened them and spoke.
“How was your date?” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded tight and angry.
“How did you know I was behind you?” Kirin whined, her voice playful.
He turned to face her, with curious eyes.
“Hi.” She smiled big.
She must’ve gone home with someone from the bar. “So, I’m guessing you had a good night?” He sounded whiny, like a child who didn’t get the ice cream flavor they wanted. Feeling defeated, he turned back to add sugar to his coffee.
It took her only a beat to catch what he was saying.
“No,” she blurted out, then lowered her voice, “No, I went home alone like I was told to do. I’m just happy to run into you.”
His shoulders relaxed, and he turned. His smile crept up automatically in response to hers.
Kirin put a hand on his arm. He stilled at her touch. “What if we called a truce? Let me buy you dinner one night this weekend, as friends? Maybe Saturday?”
His face lit up and then darkened. “I have
to go out of town Saturday. I’m free Friday night, though.”
“Perfect.” She scooted next to him to grab the coffee decanter and shoved him with her hip. He stared down at her. A sexy smile played at her lips as he stirred his already well-stirred coffee.
She poured her coffee, set it on the counter and then leaned over in front of him to grab the creamer. He stilled. She was flirting. She elbowed him in the stomach as she passed back in front of him. Her smile unfolded faster, reaching her eyes. It knocked him a little off balance. The heat in his return gaze must’ve thrown her.
She stutter-stepped backward, cleared her throat then asked, “Where do you want to go?” she stared at her coffee as she added cream.
“How about my place? I’ll make dinner.”
Her brow furrowed and she chewed her lip.
“Uh, okay…but you don’t have to do that. We could—”
“Nope. I insist. I can cook, ya know.”
She swallowed hard. Her voice sounded higher than before, like she was nervous. “Okay. I’ll bring wine and a movie, deal?”
Sam nodded. Hell yeah. Her eyes looked unsure, but he shot her a reassuring smile before walking to the front to pay for his coffee. They met again at the door.
“Until Friday,” he leaned over and whispered, opening the door with his back and sticking a piece of paper with his address and cell number into her hand.
“Six?” Kirin yelled over the top of her car as he headed for the other side of the parking lot.
“Perfect.” he yelled back.
~*~
Lord. A romantic dinner at his house. That wasn’t in the plan. She wondered if he was only asking her to his house, so he wouldn’t have to worry about her doing something stupid again in public. She didn’t care. She’d bring an extra potent wine and make flirty conversation. She’d drag out of him whatever he knew about her father and his book.
But Kirin’s heart kept interrupting. This was a real date with dangerous consequences for her fragile already busted up heart. She ignored that side totally. She needed answers and this was the quickest way to get them. Placing her sunglasses on her face, she cranked up the music and drowned out any fears about the date. She’d think about it again on Friday.
Entangling: Book One of the Kirin Lane Series Page 14
