by Thorne, Elle
Still made hers drop, she told herself, not looking at the stranger with the intensely dark-blue eyes. It wasn’t like Scotty wasn’t a popular guy, at least on the computer. The gaming community loved him.
And he said he’d be world famous one day. He said he was destined to be. One day, he said, one day…
If you asked Scotty, he was the premier gamer in the world. He had his own social media channel, and, one day soon, he’d have the most subscribers in the world.
According to Scotty, gamer girls thought he was the premier gamer already.
Scotty winked at her with a leer.
Really? she wanted to say but didn’t.
The café’s phone rang.
Jeez. Now what?
It rang again.
I’m not answering it.
And another ring.
What if it’s the boss?
“Fuck,” Jax groaned under her breath. She leaned across the counter, not bothering to go around it, and picked up the wall unit.
“DiMarsio’s.” She put a smile in her voice.
“You’re not answering at your apartment,” said a voice she knew too well. “So I wondered if you were working. I told your father you probably were. It’s a good thing we have the number.”
“Mom.”
Scotty’s head snapped up. He was all attention now.
Jax held her fingers in front of her lips. He’d better be quiet. Her parents might be an ocean away, but they still had a way to get to her, to make her feel like she wasn’t much more than a fuck-up.
Mom thought she’d dumped Scotty.
Or so Jax had told her folks. It wasn’t hard to hide Scotty living with her. It wasn’t like her parents lived in Italy.
She breathed a sigh of relief and joy that they lived so far away.
The moment she’d moved into her apartment in Rome, she’d instant messaged Scotty and he’d hoofed it over from the U.K. That had been three months ago. Her parents had met him once, when he’d visited her in Baton Rouge. She shuddered at the memory of that fiasco.
But why was Mom calling? “Is Dad okay?”
“He’s fine. We’re both fine. You should check your messages.”
“Phone’s dead, Mom.” Did she really have to get a lecture on message checking? “If you’d sent an email, I’d have gotten it.”
“You know how I am about computers.” Her mother’s standard reply.
What is it this time? Jax wondered. Some juicy Baton Rouge gossip that merited a phone call?
“Give me some money,” Scotty growled in her other ear. “I need some Jack.”
Jax put her hand over his mouth, gave him a dirty look.
“Sorry, Mom. I’m at work. Can I call you right back?” Right back being after I get home.
Or in a week. Or two.
Scotty snapped his fingers at her then made the finger rubbing gesture between his thumb and index finger. He wanted money bad. Actually, no, he didn’t need money. He’d tell you that in a heartbeat. It was easy to say when someone else was supporting him. But it really wasn’t the money that he wanted. That wasn’t his endgame tonight.
Tonight, he wanted Jack bad.
Jack Daniel’s. Scotty’s best friend.
Jax planted her palm on his chest and pushed him away. She slipped her fingers into her apron pocket, grabbed some bills and tossed them his way, mouthing the word, “Go.”
Scotty reached out, grabbed her ass, and planted his lips on the side of her neck, then sucked enough flesh with enough strength to leave a mark. She rolled her eyes at him.
He had to get a job.
Hand over the phone, she shook her head, kissed his cheek, gave him a smile, then waved him away.
Jax held so tight to the phone her fingers hurt. “Sorry, Mom. Customers.”
She glanced at the stranger in the corner. The way he was watching her, she could swear she felt his gaze like a touch. Felt it in every nerve ending. Crazy intense, that’s what he was. His lips moved, almost a smile. Just one corner went up, not quite into a smile, but not into a smirk either.
She fumed. He was amused by her predicament? D-bag.
She turned her back on him. “No, Mom. I’m not ignoring you. I heard you.” Actually, she hadn’t, but God, her mother would start complaining if she copped to that.
“Okay, then Dad and I will be waiting for you at the apartment.”
Jax started to hyperventilate. “Wait. Wait.”
What? What? What did she just say?
“Um.”
Gulp.
“Mom?”
“Yes?” Her mother’s voice was way too sticky sweet. Way too innocent.
She’s pulling my leg. They aren’t coming. They aren’t here. “Never mind. I should have known you were kidding—”
“Jaclyn.” Mom’s no-nonsense tone. “I’m not kidding. And I knew you weren’t paying attention. I just knew it.”
She picks this time of all times to decide to test my listening skills?
“Mom. Don’t joke like that.”
Is that my own voice? I sound like I’m in a panic.
Because she was in a panic. She fought the urge to laugh hysterically and thought of her apartment. Scotty’s shit scattered all over the place…
Oh. My. God.
Scotty!
He was probably going to head over there with his newly acquired bottle of Jack.
The Jack I paid for.
“We’re on the way right now.”
“You’re not in Rome. You’re not in Italy.”
They can’t be.
She pictured her parents, sitting on the screened-in porch in Baton Rouge, relaxing with sweet tea. There was no way they were in Italy.
“If you’d check your messages, you’d know. We left you several. Your dad got a great deal on a cruise and a flight. Those frequent flier mile things pay off. Aren’t you thrilled? Your dad’s so excited to be in the land of his great-great-grandfather. He’s—”
Stop the fucking madness.
Head spinning, Jax had to end her mother’s monologue. “I’m not going home, Mom.”
Quick. I need to think, quickly. I need a plan. First, she cursed herself for not having charged her phone. Where the hell was it, anyway?
Oh, who gives a damn?
Her mind was wandering all over the place. It felt like it was bouncing more than those little pop rock candies she used to pop in her mouth.
Think.
Think.
Think, dammit.
She turned around, a whirlwind of a circle, and glanced at the stranger with the dark-blue eyes who was clearly eavesdropping. His gaze glittered dark and dangerous in the dimly lit café.
The stranger raised a brow. Stared at her as if he found her to be an interesting little scientific experiment.
An idea came to her. It could work. With his help. Would he help? Sure he would. She’d charm him into helping. Ugh. She’d never been good at the charming game.
Jax covered the phone with her hand. “What’s your name?” she hissed at the dark-haired, too-sexy man.
He merely looked at her.
Goddammit. I don’t have the time to piss around waiting for this shit.
“Just a minute, Mom.” Jax set the phone down on the counter and laid a white, coffee-streaked towel over it in case she needed to muffle any sounds.
He still hadn’t answered.
She stalked over to the stranger and put her hands on her hips. “Well?”
Chapter Four
Rafe was wrong. Way wrong. The voice was more than low, husky, and sexy.
The voice was dangerously angry.
She tapped crimson nails on her painted-on pants, drawing his sight to those thighs, those fingertips, thinking all the wrong—but Christ, so very right—thoughts.
“Well, what?” he asked her.
“I asked you your name.”
He let out a scoffing laugh at her attitude and her demand. “That’s none of your business.”
<
br /> “Look.” Panic made her eyes widen.
What the hell is she afraid of?
“I need to know your name. Like, now.”
He tilted his head, studying the curvy, dark-haired beauty. “You’re not Italian. You have an American accent.” It reminded him of the accents in Texas, a little. But different, somehow.
“Who gives a damn if I’m American or not?” She glanced at the counter where the phone that she’d covered with a towel lay, then turned back to Rafe. “I need you.”
He laughed. He couldn’t do anything but laugh. She had a loser boyfriend, and she was in the middle of a conversation with her mother. He’d tried to tune it out but had heard snatches.
Damned shifter hearing.
His tiger snarled, but playfully, because the tiger knew Rafe wasn’t serious. Rafe and his tiger were tight. Peas in a pod. He wasn’t one of those shifters who battled with his tiger for power. They were one, and a damned good team if you asked him.
“I need you,” he repeated. “That’s a hell of a pickup line.” He stood and put his hand on his zipper. “But all right, I’m in.”
* * *
Jax’s mouth dropped open. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.
Oh, no, he wasn’t.
With an amused look on his face, this devastatingly sexy, darkly dangerous, indigo-eyed sex on a stick plucked at his zipper and pulled it down a notch.
Oh, God. Oh yes, he is.
She slapped at his hand. “You bast”—Her voice was too loud. God, what if Mom heard? —“ard.” She finished the word with a growled.
He smiled, took his hand off his zipper.
She tore her eyes away from that area.
That’s not even like me. I don’t check out men’s crotches. She focused on his face.
He was way too handsome. And tall. Jesus.
Nice chin, nice jaw. Even nicer lips. Perfect lips.
She had to stop this. She had to take care of this business about her mother and father. “That’s not what I need,” she snapped.
He quirked a brow, a sarcastic yet amused expression on his face. “Okay. What do you need me for?”
“Don’t look at me like that,” she huffed.
“Like what?”
“You know.” She glared at him so he’d get the message. “Like this has anything to do with S-E-X.” She spelled it out for him then wondered why the hell she’d done that.
Oh, shit. Mom’s still on the phone.
She ran toward the counter, threw the towel off, and picked up the phone. “Sorry, Mom.”
A dial tone greeted her.
Damn, just when she thought her plan to bring them here and then shuffle them off would work.
“Fuck. Fuck. And fuck.” That was all she could think to say. Her parents were going to go to her place. They were going to find Scotty.
She’d be so screwed.
Chapter Five
Rafe couldn’t help himself. She was so damned pretty when she was angry. There was something about the fire lighting her brown eyes. Eyes the color of dark chocolate, and ebony hair that framed a face that was so much more than simply pretty. It was downright striking.
He watched her as she leaned over, body sprawled across the counter to get the phone. His mind went to all the wrong places, and yet they were places that were oh-so-very-damned right.
That ass. Lickable. He tore his eyes away before she could turn around and catch him.
It wasn’t just that she was pretty. She had an energy that flowed through her and straight into him.
His tiger rumbled his approval.
Rafe knew he shouldn’t, knew it would distract him completely, but he let a visual imprint on his brain.
Her.
Bent over the counter, undressed.
Him.
Behind her.
He swelled, straining his pants.
That’s exactly why I shouldn’t have gone there. Damn.
“Fuck. Fuck. And fuck.” She turned around and gave him a dirty look. “This is all your fault.” She stalked toward him. “All yours.”
She set her lips in a straight line. Tears appeared in her eyes.
One minute there was nothing there, the next minute…
Poof!
Tears.
And of course, that was Rafe’s downfall.
“How bad can it be?” He wished he hadn’t asked.
Asking that was tantamount to asking how he could help. As if he didn’t have enough on his mind with Vax and Callie in town. As if he didn’t have enough with Gio being so pissed about the changes in the organization and the infractions against the shifter codes. As if he wasn’t expected to run all the family’s business interests now that Vax had moved and made it clear he didn’t intend to return.
As if he didn’t have to deal with the strain among the shifters in Europe because of the codes being stretched, bent, and broken left and right.
The stupid old-school codes of conduct the Tiero had adhered to. They’d had those stupid codes for so long, but no one knew why. Not really, or at least not to Rafe’s satisfaction.
No human mates. No mates of other species of shifters.
Practically every Tiero in America had strayed from that code. It didn’t help Rafe refused to side with Gio against Vax and his choice to have a human mate.
She stared at him without answering, so he repeated himself. “So, how bad can it be, then?”
“You have no idea,” the curves-on-curves hottie said. She shook her head. Her eyes became hard. “Can you go?”
She turned away and went to the register. After she’d locked it, she put the key in her back pocket, turned off the lights in the pastry display case, flipped off the switches on the coffee machines and blenders, then looked at him as if surprised he was still here.
Suddenly he wasn’t her savior; she merely wanted him gone.
A flare of anger rose in him and in his tiger. Anger that she had a boyfriend who was more boy than man and much less than she deserved. Anger that…
Rafe didn’t know why he was so angry.
His tiger released a roar.
“I don’t think so.”
She whirled around. “What? What do you mean, you don’t think so?”
“I’m a paying customer. I think I’ll stick around.”
“No.” She took a deep breath as if to gather control over her outburst. “You have to go.”
“Give me a good reason why I should get out of here.” Rafe sat in the chair again, crossed his legs, steepled his fingers, and put the tip of the steeple against his lips. “Go on.”
A beautiful shade of red crept up her neck, coloring her face. Her eyes flashed lethal anger, and her full lips, made for kissing and other gloriously naughty acts, drew into a thin line.
She’ll make a great mother one day.
What the hell kind of thought was that?
* * *
Jax had to get him out of there. What the hell was wrong with him? Didn’t he understand the urgency of this situation?
Her eyes traveled from his thick, black, curly hair, down his awesome olive skin, his dark-blue eyes, full lips…
One word came to mind.
Adonis.
Why the fuck had she thought of that word? The mythology class from her freshman year came back to her, but wow. Weird thing to think of now. Freshman year had been so long ago, considering the two years she’d taken off from school. Two years that had greatly disappointed her parents.
“Listen, you.” She reached behind her, untied and yanked off her apron.
“Rafe.”
She glanced back at him, missing her throw. The apron landed on the floor instead of the counter.
Shit. Nothing is going right tonight. Not a damned thing.
“What?”
“Rafe. That’s my name. Not ‘you.’”
“Oh, now you tell me.” Where had that information been when she’d needed it so badly?
He cocked his head and gave her a shrug th
at was so very European.
“I need you to go. My parents are going to my place. I’ve got to intercept them.”
“Why?”
She wasn’t going to answer that. None of this was any of his damned business.
“Because.”
“Why don’t you let the guy with the holes in his ears let them in?”
She grimaced. How would this perfect guy, with his perfect looks, his perfectly awesome muscled body and his casual but classy clothing, get it? He was probably the apple of his parents’ eyes.
“You wouldn’t understand. Parents. Expectations. Like I said, you wouldn’t get it,” she scoffed.
“You have no idea.” His eyes were hooded, his expression stoic.
“Yeah, well, I don’t have the time to wax sentimental about our parents. I’m not going to compare mine to yours.” She grabbed her bag. “Can we just go?”
She made an up, up, up wave with her hand.
“I wasn’t really done with my coffee.”
She glanced in his cup. “It’s empty.” Why was he doing this?
“Perhaps I want another.”
“You’re fucking with me,” she fumed.
“Hardly. You’re dressed, neither of us is sweaty, and you’re not moaning my name.”
“As if I would.” She leaned over, snatched his empty cup, and walked it to the counter. “Now. Rafe.”
He crossed his arms. “That’s some customer service, miss. What’s your name?”
She ground her teeth. “Please.”
“Since you ask so nicely.”
She followed him to the door, digging her keys out of her bag. She could lock up, and then she’d run the four blocks to her place. She’d run her ass off and beat her parents there.
He reached for the door and held it open for her. Jax glanced at him sideways. Now he has manners? Too little too late. She grumbled a “Thanks,” turned around, and tried to slip the key into the lock.
Fumbling with the keys, she dropped them. “Damn,” she murmured, and reached to pick them up.
Except she bumped heads with the Greek god and fell backward. Quicker than a man should be able to move, he helped her regain her balance then assisted her up.
Holding her keys, he said, “Let me,” and locked the door for her.
