“I’m not even drunk,” he lies. “I’ve only had a few beers. This is fucked; you can’t cut me off.”
I gesture to the Breathalyzer I had installed near the entrance. “You can go and check for yourself. It will tell you all you need to know, just blow into it with one of the disposable plastic tubes.”
The Breathalyzer was my idea, and I think a good one. Instead of guessing whether someone has had too much, it gives us the proof.
The man starts to yell, and I notice Hunter coming over quickly, at the same time our bouncer/security guard does the same.
“Do we have a problem here?” Hunter asks the man in a calm manner. He gives me a once-over, as if making sure I’m okay.
“I want a fuckin’ drink,” the man says, eyes unfocused. “And she’s cutting me off.”
I slide a glass of water over the bar to him, but he slaps it off so it hits the floor.
“All right, that’s enough,” Hunter seethes, his teeth clenched. The air around him turns tense, dangerous. This is not the playful Hunter I’m used to. This is him on alert, almost like he’s gone into protection mode. Hunter is not a small man, he’s both tall and muscular, and I can imagine he can be quite the imposing figure if he wants to be.
“I don’t want fuckin’ water! Give me a drink, you stupid bitch!” the man sneers at me, taking me aback. Sure, we’ve had angry customers before—that happens when you’re serving alcohol—but nothing to this extent. A fight has never broken out at Riley’s before, but it looks like tonight might be the night for it. I’m glad Hunter is here.
He tries to calm the man down, but the man takes a swing at him. Luckily, Hunter is able to move out of the way before the man’s fist connects with his face. Bobby, our security, then grabs the man from behind and puts him in a headlock to subdue him. He and Hunter then escort him outside, all while he struggles and curses at them.
“Should I call the cops?” I ask Yvonne, who comes and sits in front of me.
“Yeah, probably a good idea, just in case,” she replies, looking concerned.
For Hunter?
Have the two of them ever been more than friends?
The thought has entered my mind more than once, but I’ve never said anything or asked anyone, for several reasons. One, I don’t think I want to know the answer; two, I really like Yvonne; and three, it’s none of my fucking business. Why does everything have to be so complicated?
“I’ll call them,” Preston says, grabbing the pub wireless phone and pressing buttons. I decide to head outside and see what’s happening, but when I open the door Hunter rushes toward me and tells me to stay inside.
“What’s going on?” I ask, as he closes the door with both of us inside.
“He’s just starting shit, being belligerent,” he explains, glancing back outside. “Not safe for you to be out there.”
“Preston called the cops.”
“Good,” he murmurs, hands on each of my shoulders. “Are you all right?”
I nod.
“I don’t like the idea of you having to deal with shit like this. Can’t you up your security on weekends?” he asks, scanning the crowd. “If a big fight broke out here, your one dude isn’t going to be able to do shit.”
“Yeah, I can do that,” I tell him. “Thank you for handling that, Hunter.”
“Wasn’t going to let him talk to you like that,” he whispers, then places a sweet kiss on my forehead. “Stay inside. I’ll wait outside until the cops come.”
“Okay,” I tell him, and watch as he disappears outside again. My forehead tingles where he kissed me. I return to behind the bar, put on a smile, and continue to serve everyone their drinks. Hunter’s right: I need more than one man here just in case something goes wrong. I make a mental note to contact the security company tomorrow. Riley’s is slowly expanding, and I need to keep up.
“How hot was Hunter just now?” Callie whispers to me. “Every woman in this place wants him, and you’re the only one he has eyes for. Don’t take that shit for granted.”
“I agree,” Yvonne says, sticking her head in. Fucking hell, I forgot she was sitting there. “Hunter turned down more women tonight than men hit on me.” She grins before adding, “And in case you didn’t know, that was a hell of a lot.”
“Shit, you weren’t meant to hear any of that,” Callie groans, cringing. She turns to me and mouths “Sorry” before beelining out of here.
I dare to look at Yvonne, who simply smirks at me. “I’m not going to say anything to him, don’t worry. I’m with Callie on this one. I don’t know what the hell the holdup is with you two.”
“I just got divorced.”
“Yes, but haven’t the two of you being pretending not to like each other for the last year?” she fires back, eyebrows raised. “He liked you. He thought you were married but still liked you. Don’t get me wrong, he’d never act on it, but that doesn’t change the facts. Meanwhile, you knew he liked you, you must have, and you pretended you were still happily married to buy yourself some time, and then he found out the truth, when he was Jeremy’s lawyer, which meant he had to wait some more. But now, all the drama is over.”
Well.
I don’t owe her any explanations, but she’s right. Still, what comes out of my mouth is, “Yes, all the drama is over, and in a perfect world, I’d be ready right away to start something with him. I don’t want to hurt him. But this is between me and him, Yvonne. I don’t want to rush into any kind of commitment.”
“Who says he does? Why are you thinking so hard into it?” she says. “Come on, Riley, give me the truth. What is the real reason you don’t want to give him a chance? Because if you truly don’t, maybe you should let him know that he doesn’t stand a chance so he can stop wasting his time, and then you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”
And there it is. She’s fucking right, but it’s not her place to confront me. It’s none of her business.
I’m being called out on all my shit, by a woman who is closer to Hunter than she is to me, so she clearly doesn’t care too much about walking around the subject like everyone else around here.
“I’m fucking scared, okay?” I admit, and I don’t like how small my voice comes out. “Yes, I’m intrigued by him, but look at him, Yvonne. I hear you all talking about him. I see what he’s like with women. My life is in shambles, and I need to sort myself out, so excuse fucking me if I don’t know what I want right now. I just don’t want to make any more mistakes. And if he’s the right man for me, he will understand where I’m coming from.”
Hunter walks back in, and I stand up straight, squaring my shoulders. I don’t have anything else to say to Yvonne, although I’m not angry, I know she was just looking out for him. I get it; I do. No one wants anyone to get hurt here; however, staying away is the best thing for me to do to make sure that doesn’t happen. The thought of me letting him go though, or telling him to leave me alone and find someone else, really hit me, because I guess deep down inside I’m hoping that maybe at some point we would be together. I guess timing waits for no one though.
I run my hand down the back of my neck as Hunter stands in front of me, scanning my face. “He’s gone; the cops took him. Is everything okay?”
I force a smile. “Yeah, it is. Thanks, Hunter. You didn’t have to deal with all that, but thank you.”
He studies me for a second, then comes around the bar and gently takes my hand, leading me back to the staff room. He sits me down, and lowers himself in front of me, and gently brushes his thumb along my cheekbone.
My guard is down, and we shouldn’t be alone right now.
Especially when he’s looking at me like that.
chapter 16
HUNTER
I DON’T KNOW WHAT SHE’S thinking right now, but the look I saw on her face earlier has me worried.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, glancing up at her, her beauty up close hitting me like a truck. Did that guy scare her? Maybe she realized the shit she has to deal with
when running a bar? “Are you okay?”
She nods, licking her lips and exhaling deeply, like she’d been holding in her breath this entire time. “I guess tonight has been a bit much.”
I cup her face with my hand, and she leans into it, closing her eyes. “What are we doing, Hunter?”
“Nothing, yet,” I whisper.
All night I couldn’t take my eyes off her. It didn’t matter who I was talking to, or who was trying to get my attention, I could always sense where she was. I’ve never been more drawn to a woman in my life.
“I don’t want either of us to get hurt,” she finally says to me. “I know there’s something here between us, Hunter, I don’t know what it is, but there’s something. I don’t want to lead you on though.” She takes a deep breath before she continues. “And I know that sounds like I’m assuming you like me when you haven’t even said anything other than innuendos and jokes and—”
I kiss her.
Words don’t work with her; hints don’t work; I’m going to give her actions.
She can’t question whether I want her now, because I show her, with my lips, my tongue, and the feeling I put into the kiss. She doesn’t kiss me back at first, but then slowly, tentatively, she moves her lips against mine.
She tastes sweet, her lips as soft as I remember as I fall into everything that is her. I break the kiss and rest my forehead against hers, while her fingers tangle in my beard, tugging gently. I open my eyes and look at her, detecting freckles on her nose that I’ve never noticed before. I can’t help but pepper kisses over them. She opens her eyes and pulls back, trying to hide her emotions from me. When she touches her lips with her fingers though, I know she felt what I did, the tingling still on my lips.
“So . . . you like me then,” she whispers, letting go of my beard and sitting back.
“Something like that,” I murmur, lips kicking up at the corners. “I’ve wanted to kiss you from the first second I saw you, Riley. And ever since my birthday, all I’ve wanted is another taste.”
She opens her mouth, and then closes it, like she’s not sure what to say back to that.
“I need to get back to work, Hunter,” she decides on. “Can we talk about this later?”
“Tomorrow?” I suggest, not wanting to give her any time to overthink and change her mind. I’d never ask from her more than she’s willing to give, but I want to spend more time with her. I want to kiss her again, and I want to get to know everything about her.
I just want her to let me in.
“I’m working tomorrow.”
“Sometime this week then?” I push.
“Okay,” she replies, standing up, while I do the same. Before she walks back out, I grab her hand and bring her to a stop, raising her fingers to my lips and placing a kiss on them.
“I’ll hold you to that,” I announce, flashing her a grin and opening the door for her. She steps in front of me, and I can tell she wants to argue, but she manages a nod, giving in—the first time she’s ever done so. I walk back around the bar and sit down next to Yvonne, ignoring the surprised and curious glances from everyone who knows us. Callie can’t stop smiling, Yvonne looks smug, and Preston looks shocked.
I don’t care what any one of them thinks, the only person whose opinion matters has hazel eyes and is currently avoiding looking in my direction.
Still, tonight is a win.
It couldn’t have gone better.
I wait until close, and then walk Riley to her car afterward.
“You don’t need to look after me,” she tells me as I open her door. “Preston is here. He makes sure we all get into our cars safely, and then we all message one another when we make it home.”
“I know I don’t need to,” I say, stepping closer as she brushes past me. “I was here, and I wanted to make sure you’re safe. Is that so bad?”
“I guess not,” she replies, shifting on her feet. Is she nervous? If only I knew what she was thinking right now. “I’m just used to being independent and doing everything on my own. Even when I was married, I pretty much was used to doing my own thing.”
“Making sure you get to your car safely is not taking away your independence, Riley,” I point out, trying to see where she’s coming from. “It’s me caring about you, being a gentleman, and trying to show you that I’m not all bad; I do know how to treat a woman.”
Contrary to popular belief.
She turns her body more toward me, hand resting on the top of the door. “And if I was yours? Then what? You’d be here every night, watching my every move like a caveman?”
“No,” I tell her, then shrug. “Well, maybe, but not how you’re explaining it. It’s not to watch your every move. I trust you, Riley. I’ve watched you curb every man who tries to hit on you, and you’re not even taken. It’s more me just wanting you to be safe, you saw how it was tonight.”
“And I’ve seen you flirt, so maybe it should be me keeping an eye on you,” she fires back with sass, even cocking her hip a little, hand resting on it.
“If I was flirting, Riley,” I say, lowering my face to hers. “You’d know about it.”
She narrows her eyes and lifts her stubborn chin. “You spoke to pretty much every woman tonight.”
“No.” I shake my head. Is she jealous? I don’t know why, but I kind of like the thought of her being so. It means she cares, and maybe considers me hers even if she won’t admit it to herself just yet. “They spoke to me, and I was friendly in return. That’s who I am. Not once did I let them think I was interested, or ever going to be interested. In fact, I told a few of the pushier ones I was taken, and we both know that’s not exactly true, don’t we?”
She looks down before giving me her eyes again. “I don’t like the fact that I care who you’re talking to. I shouldn’t; I know. It’s completely fucked-up.”
“I like the fact that you care,” I tell her with a grin, cupping the back of her neck and lowering my lips to hers.
“I love it, actually,” I murmur against her lips, kissing her deeply and giving her a taste of what could be if she let it.
If she wasn’t so damn stubborn and complicated.
If she put just a little bit of faith in men, in me.
It’s me who pulls away, sucking on her lower lip, and even though her kiss left me a little breathless, I’d never admit that out loud.
I need to leave her feeling the same way she leaves me.
Although going by the dizzy look in her eyes, the feeling is more than mutual.
“Message me when you get home safely,” I tell her, kissing her one more time, my hand trailing down the small of her back and up to her waist.
She nods, then gets into her car.
I watch her drive away, wishing I could be going home with her.
But I need to be patient.
More than ever, I know that Riley is meant to be mine.
Now I just need to show her that.
chapter 17
RILEY
“THE DAY YOU WENT Away” by Wendy Matthews plays on the radio, and I sing along to it while I wipe down all the tables. We haven’t opened yet, but sometimes I like to come early and make sure everything is spotless. It’s my moment of peace, before all the hustle and bustle of the day begins. I vacuum and mop the wooden floors and then make sure all the glasses and plates are sparkling, and that we are all stocked up with everything we’re going to need for the day.
Callie comes in thirty minutes early, and we both sit down at one of the booths and have some breakfast together. I don’t know how this became our morning routine, but I really enjoy it. On the menu today is smashed avocado, toast, and poached eggs. It’s not as good as Cheffy’s, because we made it ourselves, but it still tastes pretty good. I don’t mind cooking. I’m pretty decent in the kitchen, although I don’t have the time to cook every day like I used to.
“Whose playlist is it today?” she asks me, eating a bite of toast. “I really hope it’s not Preston’s.”
�
��I think it’s Cheffy’s,” I reply, smirking. “Love songs all the way today then.”
“Why can’t the men here have cooler taste in music?” she asks, sighing. “I like working to upbeat stuff, and not just Preston’s pop music, it makes the day go faster, and I can dance when no one is looking.”
“As if you care if anyone is looking,” I point out.
Actually, I’m pretty sure she likes it.
“True,” she says, chewing slowly and swallowing. “I really don’t care. I like to think I’m a good dancer.”
“For a pole, maybe,” I tease, laughing when she looks outraged but then eventually nods, agrees, and murmurs, “Who am I kidding?”
Without so much as a pause, she asks, “So are you ever going to talk about what happened with Hunter the other night? I’m over making hints and hoping that you will tell me of your own accord.”
I laugh, because she’s been hinting so obviously but hasn’t straight-out asked until now, so I kind of avoided the subject. “Well, we kissed. And chatted a little, and that’s about it.”
“About fucking time. How was the kiss? Months of pent-up sexual tension exploding into a clash of lips and tongue?”
The shit she comes up with.
“The kiss was . . .”
How do I explain the kiss? I’ve never been kissed like that in my life. He’s so good with his mouth, with his tongue, and the way he was looking at me . . . It was the emotion behind the kiss that really hit me. I’m so drawn to the man, and I’ve been fighting it; just after that kiss I have to ask myself: Why? Yes, it’s a risk, and yes, I could get hurt, but . . .
That. Fucking. Kiss.
It was worth it, and it’s worth what will or won’t happen.
No one has looked at me like that before either.
I see lust in men’s eyes all the time.
But what I saw in his, it was something else.
Leading the Witness Page 11
