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Waiting for Tuesday: Suspicious Hearts Book Two

Page 4

by Taylor Sullivan


  “I’m never grumpy.”

  “Bye, Lis.” I threw my cloth in the sink, gave the girls a quick nod to say I’d be right back, and hopped over the bar.

  “Hey! Colin.” I pushed open the doors before they stopped swinging. “How’s my favorite co-worker in the world?”

  Colin laughed but didn’t turn around. “What’s up?” He set a tray of empties in the sink then proceeded to fill a couple of pitchers with stout.

  “Who are the girls you’ve been talking to in the corner?”

  He grinned. “You’ll have to be more specific. There are so many.”

  I rolled my eyes. “The one sitting with Xena. The one with the glasses. What’s her name?”

  He grinned at my Xena reference then shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, man. Tuesday, I think?”

  So she was telling the truth. Okay. “Is she single?”

  “I have no clue. Look, I gotta get back out there. You’ll have to grow some balls and figure that one out on your own.”

  I grinned. “No problem, cover for me at the bar.”

  Colin laughed. “Nice try.”

  He pushed through the door to the bar, where he could see one of the girls lying halfway over the counter, helping herself to the bottle of tequila.

  “The natives are growing restless,” Colin muttered.

  I blew out a breath and jogged back to the bar. “Ladies, ladies…”

  Chapter FIVE

  Tuesday

  My second beer lasted to the end of the night. Past Becky’s endless flirtation with Colin, past all the wayward glances my eyes took to Donovan, and all the way to midnight, when I was finally free to go home.

  Colin came toward us—his nametag removed but a wide grin and swagger in its place. Time to go home. I took a sip of water, grabbed my bag from the back of my chair, and hopped from my seat. “Well you guys have fun. My fairy godmother is calling my name.”

  Becky frowned, somehow making her look more beautiful than always, and grabbed my arm. “Did you have any fun at all?”

  “Of course I did.” I looked down at her. “I was with you, wasn’t I?” I scrunched my nose, letting her know I wasn’t upset in the slightest, then looked toward the hall. “I’m just going to stop by the ladies’ room before I leave. I’m serious, you have fun.”

  Becky smiled, but I could tell she wasn’t buying it. “Let us walk you out?”

  I glanced over to Colin, seeing he was definitely ready to go, and shook my head. “Nah, I’ll be fine.” I leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Enjoy your foreplay, and call me in the morning.”

  “Whatever.” She laughed.

  Hitching my bag over my shoulder, I headed to the hall before she could stop me. I was determined not to look over to the bar again. I was being ridiculous. I wouldn’t go out with Donovan if he asked me, yet for some reason, I couldn’t stop staring. The last I’d seen, only a few girls remained at the bar, and soon I knew it would dwindle to one. The one. The fan girl who would win the Donovan prize. For some reason, I didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to know if it was the one with the freckles, the redhead, or the blonde with a killer rack. I wanted to go home, crawl between my organic cotton sheets, and fall asleep.

  I was so tired. Maybe more exhausted than I’d ever been in my life. There were too many orders to process, too many phone calls to make, and too many papers to sign. After I let the crew in the next morning, I’d head back home, turn my phone on silent, and hibernate until winter.

  When I entered the nearest stall, the door to the hallway banged open, and I turned around. A couple of drunken women stumbled into the bathroom, both giggling and unstable. I nodded, recognizing the redhead from the bar, and closed the stall door behind me. I hung my purse on the back hook, pulled down my panties to my knees, and then heard someone mention Donovan's name. I froze. I couldn’t help it—I was more interested than I cared to admit and leaned my ear against the door. My heart squeezed in my chest, and my panties still held up by my knees.

  “Do you have any condoms? I’m going home with him tonight.”

  My eyes instinctively closed.

  “Shit, Susan, are you serious?”

  “YES! I like him. Don’t you?”

  “Well yes. Everyone does… Are you sure?

  “Yes!”

  Both girls laughed again, and I sat down on the toilet. All the air left my lungs, and I looked down to my feet. I didn’t know why it affected me so much, but it did. I almost felt like crying. The door to the hall eventually opened, and the sound of music filtered in then out again, indicating I was once again alone. I stood slowly, pulling my underwear back into place, but my stomach sank to the floor.

  I guess Susan won.

  I opened the door, for some reason feeling defeated, and went to wash my hands. It was stupid to be upset. I wouldn’t have time for a relationship for another year, he obviously had more women than he could handle, and besides… He wasn’t my type. I rubbed my hands together, not bothering to dry, and pushed the bathroom door open with my back.

  “Ooof!” I hit a wall. A wall that wore a black t-shirt and smelled like sunshine and hops.

  My eyes moved upward. Over a chest that was solid and muscular, to a chin shadowed with the barest amount of stubble, all the way to Donovan’s intoxicating eyes that smiled at me. Literally.

  “We have to stop meeting like this.”

  It was the most cliché thing for him to say, something I would have rolled my eyes at normally, but I found myself grinning. I couldn’t help myself. He wore a smile that was a mixture of little boy and pure devil at the same time. It was charming to say the least. But I quickly sobered—Donovan was going home with Susan tonight.

  I pushed past him without saying a word and headed for the parking lot. I needed to put distance between us—needed to put myself to bed before this man made me do things I’d regret.

  His hand on my arm stopped me. My breath hitched in my throat, and I looked up again. The same concern he’d shown over my toe at the bar was back in his eyes. “Did I say something wrong?”

  I knew I was being a silly. He could sleep with whomever he wanted, and I had no right to be upset. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been under a lot of stress lately.” My heart fluttered, and I forced myself to look into his eyes. Eyes that hadn’t left my face for a second.

  His brows furrowed and he adjusted his stance. “Want to talk about it? I can buy you a beer. Organic stout, right?” His mouth tilted slightly at the corner, and I swallowed.

  It was so tempting. He was so tempting. He was gorgeous, I was single, and there was no real reason to say no—except I couldn’t bear the thought of waking up next to another man I didn't know. I’d been beating myself up about Austin all month, and I knew if had a drink with Donovan it would lead to more. I shook my head, knowing I couldn’t handle that again. “Nah, I really gotta go.” I turned back to the hall, to the door that would lead me to the parking lot—far, far away from the man I wanted so desperately to touch me again. This time he didn’t try to stop me.

  When I made it to the parking lot, I pulled in a much-needed breath and spotted my truck right away. “Crap!”

  I jogged through the lot, yanked my door open, and twisted the key in the ignition. I sagged against the vinyl seat and prayed. Please start, please start. But nothing happened. I looked up to the slightly open visor and slammed it shut. This was the second time this month.

  “Damn it!” I slammed my fist into the steering wheel and closed my eyes. If you didn’t shut the thing exactly right…

  I looked around the lot for Becky, but of course, she’d left with Colin. Just as I’d told her to do.

  Why was this happening to me? Why now? Tuesday was supposed to be my lucky day, but lately I’d felt cursed by it. Dead phone. Dead battery. What next?

  I made my way back through the parking lot, knowing all I needed was a quick jump. That’s how it always was with my old Chevy. I’d had her since I was sixteen, and even tho
ugh she could be a bit finicky at times, she hadn’t failed me yet. Sure, I had to deal with a dead battery now and then, but I usually carried jumper cables for that problem. Until I lent them to Mrs. Sanders… and she saw Austin walk out of my apartment without shoes. I was too embarrassed to ask for them back.

  I yanked open the glass door and entered the pub, my cheeks heated, though this time more out of frustration than embarrassment, to find Donovan was no longer there. This made me both relieved and disappointed at the same time. I wasn’t sure what to make of that reaction. I’d been able to walk away a moment ago, but a part of me worried I wouldn’t be strong enough to do it a second time. Regardless, a tall man with red hair had replaced him, and my eyes locked on a nametag that read “Fred.” I leaned against the bar, waiting for him to notice me, but the group of women in the corner seemed to be monopolizing all his attention.

  I cleared my throat, not even trying to hide my annoyance. “Excuse me, but my truck won't start. Do you have any jumper cables?”

  Fred turned around, wiping his hands on a red rag, and grinned. “What was that?”

  “My truck. I left the light on. Do you have any jumper cables?” I shouted.

  “No, sorry.” But then he called over my head. “Hey Don, do you have any jumper cables?”

  I cringed before turning around. Of course. Of course, it would be Donovan who would come to my rescue. I found him down the hall, coming out of the double doors that read Employees Only. I’d seen him only minutes before, so wasn’t quite sure how it was possible, but he looked even better now. His hair was a little messier—as if he’d raked his hands through it a few times, and his shirt was untucked and disheveled. He smiled at me, like he’d won a schoolyard bet, and that’s when I realized. He’d probably come back from having his way with Susan.

  He leaned his hip against the bar, looking relaxed and confident. “If you changed your mind about the drink, you could’ve just said so.”

  My eyes bulged. The nerve! I squared my shoulders and decided to ignore him. If I didn’t have something nice to say… “I left my lights on. Do you have any jumper cables?”

  He bit his lip, and goddammit, I wanted to bite it too. “No, I can’t say that I do.”

  Fred made a noise between a cough and a laugh, and I turned around to face him. Does he think something is funny?

  “But there’s a phone in the office you can use,” Donovan added. “I was just heading up there myself.”

  I glanced back to him, over to Fred, then to the phone by the register, and my heart did a little twisty thing. “Wha—what’s wrong with that one?” My head was reeling with panic. He just invited me upstairs. Did I want to go upstairs? Well, my body did. My body was screaming to go upstairs. My body was screaming for a lot of things. My conscience, on the other hand…

  He smirked a little, one that lifted his brow at the corner. “What? Is there a problem?”

  I didn’t know what to say. Yes, there was a problem. The problem was, I didn’t quite trust myself or trust him. But the way he looked at me—with a challenge in his eye and a grin that made my stomach do lots of fluttery things—I couldn't resist. “Lead the way.”

  He cocked one eyebrow and shook his head, which made my heart squeeze again but in a different way. Did he not want me to go upstairs? He’d asked me. If that’s not what he wanted, why did he ask? Then he leaned over the bar, not saying another word, and removed the drawer from the register.

  He mouthed something to Fred I didn’t understand then gestured down the hall with his chin. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  John

  Fred raised his eyebrows and grinned at me. I hadn’t expected her to say yes—not that I was complaining. Spending more time with Tuesday sure beat the hell out of working on the dishwasher again, but she didn’t seem the type. She intrigued me. In a way, that hadn’t happened in a long time. She was flustered by my flirtation, yet she didn’t back down. I liked that—more than I cared to admit.

  When we got to the double doors, I held them open, stepping aside to let her enter the kitchen first. The room was empty, clean for the night except for the tools I’d left on the ground earlier. She slipped past me, her wild hair brushing my arm as she clutched the bag that was almost as big as she was.

  “Right this way,” I said, leading her to a doorway on the left.

  She paused when she saw the staircase and glanced over her shoulder. For a second I thought she might change her mind, come to her senses, and realize she was a tiny girl, and I was the man who’d had librarian fantasies about her all night. But she didn’t. She lifted her chin, adjusted her bag, and started climbing.

  I frowned. I didn’t know why, but I didn't like this one bit. All of a sudden, I wanted to lecture her about strangers. She looked like a strong woman, but I had no doubt I could snap her like a twig. My brows furrowed, and I remembered the guys who’d cornered her in the hall earlier. I followed behind her, my eyes locked on the slight sway of her hips noticeable even from under her baggy overalls, and I shook my head. When we made it to the top of the loft, my jaw ached from clenching so hard. Of course I have jumper cables. What self-respecting man doesn’t have jumper cables?

  I walked past her, set my drawer on the desk, and gestured to the phone. “Do you always follow strange men you just met?” I couldn’t quite explain my anger. This was exactly what I wanted, but now I was pissed she wasn’t making wiser choices. Why I felt so protective over a woman I just met was beyond me, but there was something primal about how I felt about her. Maybe my response stemmed from finding her cornered by those assholes, or the fact I grew up with three sisters, or maybe it was because she reminded me of Bambi—a deer caught in headlights, who couldn’t get out of her own way.

  I turned around and met her heated stare. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t as much of a Bambi after all. Her stance was wide, her cheeks red, and her eyes were as bright as a brush fire. “Do you always try to bed two women in one night?”

  What the hell?

  My brows drew together and I grinned. “Bed two women?” It shouldn't have been so amusing, but this wasn’t the reaction I’d expected. “What are you talking about?”

  She hoisted her bag high on her shoulder and half laughed, half scoffed. “It doesn’t matter.” She picked up the phone and began dialing.

  I cringed and gripped the back of my neck. I wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this was, but at the same time, I knew without a doubt that would be the wrong thing to do. I opened the lock bock and tried to focus on my job, but her words bothered me and I couldn’t keep quiet. “Is that what you thought? That I was bringing you up here to sleep with you?”

  She shrugged then turned to face me. She was beautiful. Maybe even a little hotter when angry.

  “Does that mean you wan―” But my question was interrupted by her doubling over with laughter.

  Fair enough.

  “Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t sleep with you now if you were the last man on earth.” She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and scowled at me. It was the cutest thing I’d ever seen in my life. Her wild hair, and her big glasses, and that body—

  She turned away, speaking into the phone to the tow truck company, and I wanted to cut the fucking cord. I couldn’t help my silly grin. Like hell, she didn’t want to sleep with me. I’d been angry only a minute ago, but now I was having more fun than I’d had all night. The chemistry between us was about to set the loft on fire.

  I turned toward my drawer and busied myself counting the evening till. But her voice distracted me, slightly husky, mixed with a bit of sexy, and a whole lot of sweet. I had to start over three times before I got the count right.

  At one point, she asked for the address of the bar. I handed her a card and continued working. But when she set the phone back on its cradle, I couldn’t help but mess with her again.

  I pushed myself from my chair and braced my legs apart. That got her attention. She turned to face me. Her head held high and
shoulders square.

  “I think you’re a liar, Tuesday.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Because if I were the last man on earth, you’d sleep with me.”

  She laughed but didn’t move. She only stood there. Her eyes focused on mine, her face both innocent and knowing at the same time. “You’re wrong.”

  “In fact, I think you want to sleep with me right now.”

  Her face pinked and her breath hitched. “What makes you say that?”

  I stepped forward. “You’re still here, aren't you?”

  “What?” Her expression changed in an instant, almost as if she’d woken from a dream. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and blinked. “Oh my God, what’s wrong with me?” she whispered.

  She turned around, muttering something under her breath, and rushed toward the stairs.

  “I was kidding!”

  But she didn’t listen. She clasped the banister with both hands and proceeded to run down the steps as though someone was chasing her.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the back of my skull. “Way to go Eaton, you really fucked it up this time.”

  Chapter SIX

  Tuesday

  I ran down the stairs so fast I almost twisted my ankle, pushed through the back exit, and stumbled two steps into the parking lot before doubling over and gasping in lungs full of frigid air.

  “God, I’m SO stupid!”

  I should have used the phone at the bar like a normal person. The one that was right there. Like any self-respecting woman would have done. Instead, I let him wield his seductive ways around my body and pull me in a direction I knew was all wrong. And to make matters worse, he was an ass about it. I buried my hands in my hair, feeling mortified.

  Part of me wanted to go back in there and give him a piece of my mind, but I didn’t dare. I was afraid he’d be proven right. Afraid that even though his words made me want to punch him in the throat, I wouldn’t be able to resist him. The chemistry between us scared the crap out of me. I’d never felt anything like it before. His effect on me was like breathing… Urgent and compulsive, like breathing a lung full of air after suffocating—only it was as scary as doing it for the first time.

 

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