Paige brought her drink to her lips, the mixture of fresh mint and berries bringing back memories from the night of the mixology class. Of the way Noah had gently blindfolded her for the taste test. The glint off his nipple ring when they’d stripped down to change in the office. Their kiss.
Her gaze drifted toward him. The shirt wasn’t tight enough to catch a glimpse of the metal through the cotton. Damn.
“So, back to the bridesmaid dress,” Paige said, sipping her drink and tearing her eyes away from the sexy distraction at the end of the table. “I like the pink.”
“Traitor,” Nina whispered loudly.
…
When Noah had agreed to work a double shift to cover for Paul, he’d been hoping for a quiet night. But then Paige had walked into the room and trampled all over that idea with her long legs and sneaker-covered feet. She sat giggling and talking with Nina and Libby in the back booth. The drink orders had slowed down, which meant the girls would likely head home soon.
Would Paige stay? He tore his eyes away from her as he wiped down the bar.
The past few days had kept him busy. Des’s job wasn’t for the faint of heart or for those with poor time management skills. There had been supplier issues to deal with, an OH&S incident involving a broken glass, and a disagreement between one of the waitstaff and their very talented—albeit sensitive—chef.
This will be your life 24-7 if you take the management position…
But the running of First wasn’t the only thing that’d kept him away from Paige this week. Her comment had cut deep. Perhaps it was because he’d had those thoughts himself. Was he selling himself short by sticking to his “no commitments, no problems” attitude? Paul and Des had found their place on earth, and they had happy relationships and plans for the future to round out the picture.
Would being the guy without attachments still satisfy him a year from now? Five years from now?
The second he’d gotten out of the system, he’d made plans to be alone—to get his own apartment, his own car. To be totally self-reliant. Because if he was by himself, there would be no one around for him to disappoint. Thankfully Des and Paul hadn’t let him become a complete hermit, but now they had their own things going on, and the prospect of being alone didn’t quite fill him with the reassurance it once had.
Movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Libby and Paige were hugging outside the booth, then Nina looped her arm around Libby’s shoulders as they headed for the exit. The women both waved at him, with Libby throwing a cheeky wink before they disappeared, laughing, into the night air.
Noah tried to count to ten before he looked in Paige’s direction again. He wasn’t used to being so wound up by a woman—especially not one who wanted things far bigger than he could provide.
Before he’d even made it to ten, the sound of a throat clearing made his head snap up. She stood at the bar, a shy smile on her lips and silent little wave dancing on her fingers. Damn, she looked sweet as an ice cream sundae, and he knew she tasted twice as good.
“You after another drink?” he asked, keeping his tone cool.
“Nah.” She shook her head. “But I thought you might want company.”
The way she said it told him she was the one in need of company, but he wasn’t about to be a dick because she’d accidentally dented his pride. “Sure. Although we do serve nonalcoholic beverages, you know.”
“I’ll have a Coke.” She climbed onto one of the empty stools and rested her arms on the bar. “It’s quiet tonight.”
“Yeah, Thursdays are a bit hit-and-miss. I’m glad, though, since my bartending skills are a little rusty.” He grabbed a tall glass and filled it with Coke from the fountain spray. “I had a woman order some fancy cocktail earlier and I had to dig out the binder with all our recipes. That’s definitely more Paul’s area of expertise than mine.”
He slid her drink across the bar, and she took a sip. “But you’re trained to tend bar as well?”
“Yep, I keep my Responsible Service of Alcohol training up to date so I can jump in and do a night shift if needed. Back when Des first opened this place, I was his only employee aside from the chef.” He leaned against the bar. “I did everything—made coffees, tended the bar, waited tables, played dish pig.”
“Multitalented.” She traced her finger around the rim of her glass.
“When it’s a new business you have to do it all. Des was busting his hump getting things off the ground. He was doing the managerial stuff as well as all the paperwork, the stock management, and marketing to get customers in the door.”
“And you made sure all the customers were watered and fed.”
“Something like that.” His gaze tracked along the room.
“I bet he’s grateful to have a loyal friend like you.”
“Well, I needed a job, so it was a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
Back in those days, prospects had been dim. Not too many people wanted to hire a high-school dropout with a shaky work history and no qualifications to speak of. After Noah had bailed from his last foster home on the day of his eighteenth birthday, he’d hopped from one cash job to the next, sleeping on couches until the Chapman family offered him a room. They had a tiny flat in their backyard that had belonged to Des’s Nonna while she was alive. The last thing he’d wanted was to get involved with another family, but the Chapmans had given him space. He’d never been expected to join them at the dinner table unless he wanted to, and they barely charged him for the room. It was that opportunity that had helped him find his feet until he could afford a place of his own.
“Sounds like you make a good team,” she said. “Hopefully I’ll get to meet Des.”
“If you’re still around when he comes back, you’ll definitely meet him.”
She nodded, an unreadable expression flittering across her features. “He’s got a good thing going on with this place. Seems like it runs well and there’s always traffic, even on the quieter days.”
“That’s why he’s opening a second location,” Noah said. “He’s got a spot out in Docklands that will be perfect. Lots of office workers and a few new residential apartment towers going up. Not the best timing, given the baby will be here in a few months, but the opportunity is solid.”
“That’s exciting. So many restaurants fail in their first few years, and he’s looking to expand—you backed a good horse.”
Noah nodded. “He’s always been like that. Wasn’t the best at school—none of us were—but he’s good with the practical stuff. And people, the staff love him.”
“They’re pretty fond of you, too,” she pointed out. “The other day I heard Pip saying how she was having a rough day and you were so sweet to her.”
“I’ll need to have a word with her. She’s ruining my reputation.” He winked.
Noah’s people skills had been the one thing that Des had pointed to when he’d first discussed the management opportunity. But that was hardly a good enough reason for him to be in that position full time—and besides, it was easy to be the “good boss” when babysitting. Des had the hard job of employee performance reviews, complaints, having to say no to leave requests from time to time. All things that Noah could shelve because he was only in the role temporarily.
“Do you think Des is testing you out while he’s away?” she asked, ignoring his joke. “My parents used to do that all the time with our managers. They’d do a few weeks as a trial run.”
“Yeah, but I don’t know if it’s what I want.” He shrugged. “Like I said the other day, I’m happy where I am.”
“But what’s next?” She rested her elbows on the bench and plopped her chin into her hands as she watched him work. “I mean, had you hoped to open your own café or do something like what Paul is doing with the mixology classes?”
Noah tilted his head to one side, trying to dispel the tension tightening his muscles. “You’re a career girl, so I get how my job might not seem important to you. But not everyone
likes being tied to their job. Work isn’t everything in life.”
Irritation prickled under his skin—this conversation sounded way too similar to the one he had with Des before he left. It smacked of “you’re floating through life,” which he’d heard too many fucking times before. What was so bad about wanting to avoid the shackles of obligation?
“I’m focused on other things,” he added.
“Like what?”
“Like…” He grappled for an answer. Shit. Was he that pathetic that he couldn’t even come up with something in his life that he was working toward? “My family.”
She nodded, but didn’t press further. Annoyed at himself, he wiped down the bar and stacked the glassware. The kitchen had closed about forty minutes ago, and the final remaining diners seemed to be finishing their meals. The clock behind the bar showed it was ten forty-five.
He watched Paige from the corner of his eye. Her long ponytail hung over one shoulder, the edges of her light brown hair glowing with a warm golden tone under the lights. She nursed her drink, taking small sips as though she didn’t want to finish it. Why might that be? Perhaps she didn’t want to go home.
“You waiting on something?” he asked.
She looked up, her lips pursed. “Is that your way of telling me to leave?”
“I’ve got no right to do that. You’re not breaking any laws.” He reached for the broom and pushed it along the floor. “You’re not creating any disturbances.”
“Gee, thanks,” she said rolling her eyes. “That’s not exactly a glowing description of my company.”
“What do you want, a pat on the head?” He raised a brow. “Do you need me to stroke your ego, Paige?”
“No.” She fired the word at him like a bullet.
It was stupid to be frustrated with her for asking questions. All she’d done was shine a light on problems that already existed. It wasn’t her fault he was stuck in the quicksand of indecision. “I thought I might have scared you off with those text messages the other day,” he said.
Something simmered in the depths of her eyes. There was a slight widening of her gaze, a loosening of her lips, and the barest whisper of a flush across her chest. “You didn’t.”
“You like playing games, then?”
She cocked her head. “I don’t back away from a challenge. So no, you didn’t scare me off.”
Her smug little expression fired him up. Paige got under his skin in more ways than one. She wasn’t only attractive to him physically—her attitude, her spark, her quick wit all appealed to him at the deepest level.
She was exactly the kind of girl he shouldn’t want. One who pushed his buttons and asked him questions he didn’t want to answer. One who managed to easily see past the front that he cloaked himself with.
No point going there for anything more than physical. She’d get bored with your boundaries and move on to someone who can offer her a future. You know the drill.
He didn’t need to go there to know he’d crumble under the pressure and break her heart. The only thing he could share with Paige would be hot, heavy, and temporary. And, despite her needling at some sore points, he still very much wanted her.
“Do you need to go home?” he asked.
She sucked on her bottom lip for a moment, as if considering the consequences of her answer. “No.”
“Good.” He propped the broom against the wall. “I’ll close up early and then we’ll get out of here.”
Tonight he was going to show Paige exactly what kind of competitor he was.
Chapter Eleven
Paige sat at the bar twiddling her thumbs as Noah ran through the closing procedure. The metallic chink of coins sounded from the back office as he counted the till and prepared the float for the next day. The last remaining waiter had left about five minutes ago, and Paige was acutely aware of how alone they were.
And how many flat surfaces could assist in letting her act out her fantasies.
Stop it. It’s bad enough you’re playing with fire by agreeing to go out with him. Don’t lose your head.
The sound of beeping pulled Paige from her thoughts. Noah had locked up the safe, and she could hear him rustling around in the back room.
“All right, we’re done,” he said, strolling out with a lazy grin.
His hair was rumpled as though he’d run his hands through it too many times. She resisted the urge to smooth it back into place, because she knew the second she touched him it would all be over. It was a goddamn miracle she’d been able to get her wits about her last time.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” she asked, sliding off the bar stool and smoothing her hands over her denim skirt. “How do I know I’m dressed appropriately?”
His eyes tracked the movement, lingering on her legs before he raked his gaze slowly back up to her face. “Looks pretty good to me.”
She tried to cover the heat flooding her cheeks with a scoffing sound in the back of her throat. “Does that normally work?”
“What do you mean?” He toyed with his keys, the jangling sound rattling Paige’s nerves. It was hard not to notice how at ease he was compared to her—how totally cool, calm, and in control, while she was at critical risk of liquefying into a puddle. In fact, he seemed to be her opposite on every front. The pressure she placed on herself to be perfect was almost nonexistent in him. He seemed so…comfortable with who he was. So confident in his choices.
“Your cheesy lines.” She folded her arms across her chest. But instead of making her feel protected, the action only seemed to broaden his wolfish smile. “Do they get women to bend to your will?”
“Yeah,” he said. “They do.”
Paige rolled her eyes and started toward the door. “You’re going to have to work harder than that. I don’t fall to anyone’s feet.”
“Not a problem.” His footsteps sounded behind her. “I’m more than happy to be on my knees. I do some of my best work from down there.”
She hoped to God that Noah couldn’t see the tremor that rocketed up her spine. The visual of him on his knees, his hands braced against on her thighs while he did unspeakable things with his tongue—
Stop it. Now!
Clearly she needed to figure out a way to get some alone time with her vibrator, not easy when she was sleeping on someone’s couch. But clearly a lack of orgasms was causing brain malfunctions. Since when did she have the mind of a teenager?
“That’s very inappropriate,” she said primly as she stepped outside into the balmy summer night air.
Let’s ignore for a second the fact that you’re totally into it…
“Really? I find it’s much easier to clean my car’s rims if I’m close to the ground. Better for the back that way.” He shot her an infuriatingly cheeky grin as he set First’s alarm system and locked up the door. “You know, that way I can really get in there and tend to all the tight spots.”
Human combustion in three…two…one…
“Oh, wait? You didn’t think I meant…” He slapped a hand to his head. “Wow, you’ve got a dirty mind, Paige.”
She glared at him as they headed down the street. “Gee, I have no idea why I would have gone there.”
“Where did you go, Paige? Did you imagine me right there in front of you, pushing that little skirt up your legs?” He laughed when she shook her head, the guilt no doubt painted all over her face. “You know it’s okay to think about sex, right? You’re not going to get struck down by lightning.”
Thinking about it wasn’t what worried her. It was the raging desire to act on those thoughts that was becoming a thorn in her side.
“Not all of us think that sex is something to be bandied around.” She followed him down the main strip of South Melbourne, toward the city.
A tram rushed by them, its bells ringing. The roads were glossy and slick, reflecting back the neat row of streetlights, evidence that a summer storm had rolled through earlier. She hadn’t even noticed rain against the windows of First. But
to be fair, when Noah was around she barely noticed anything else.
“Not all of us put sex on a pedestal,” he replied. “It’s a basic human need, not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal. It’s the most intimate thing you can do with a person.”
He shrugged. “I don’t agree with that.”
“What could possibly be more intimate than sex?”
Noah was silent for a moment, and the slap of her sneakers hitting the wet pavement filled the lull. She risked a glance up at him, and her gaze snagged on the lines forming around his mouth. A serious expression, not something he wore often—at least from what she’d seen.
“Arguing,” he said eventually. “Having a fight and then making up.”
She caught herself about to make a quip about how he must be doing relationships wrong, but she smothered the words in the back of her throat. She’d already tossed one insensitive comment his way, and that was one too many in her opinion.
“Sounds like there’s a story there,” she said carefully.
“There are a lot of stories there.”
Curiosity nipped at her. She wanted so much to scratch the surface on Noah’s breezy persona and find out what was underneath. But that wasn’t any of her business. They weren’t friends…were they?
“If you’re going to look at me like that, you may as well ask your question,” he said.
The city grew in front of them, lights glistening like hundreds of winking stars. They pressed on, their footfalls matched as though they’d walked together a thousand times before. It was all too easy to see how they might do it years from now, hand in hand.
She stifled the naive visual. “I feel like that might be opening up a can of worms,” she said. “And you don’t owe me any explanations.”
“No, I don’t. But I get the feeling you’re judging me, so perhaps it might make you see that I’m not a manwhore.”
“I never said that.” She bit her lip. She had thought it, however.
“What do you call the leader of a harem, if not a manwhore?”
She winced. Okay, so maybe she’d already said more than one insensitive thing to him. “Touché.”
Betting the Bad Boy (Behind the Bar) Page 11
