I glanced down at my watch. We'd been here only fifteen minutes. It felt like an hour. I wouldn't be here at all, except I owed it to Amber.
Tonight, I'd invited her over for dinner. I'd fed that dinner to the neighbor's dog. I'd left Amber and her friend hanging at my place while I put the moves on another girl. But that wasn't the thing that had me sitting here in some theme restaurant listening to Brittney's bullshit.
I'd come back from Chloe's place to find Amber and Brittney shivering on my front porch, locked out. So while I'd been sitting in my own warm car, Amber and Brittney had been standing outside in a thunderstorm, waiting for me to come back.
I was only supposed to be gone for a few minutes. I'd been gone a lot longer than that. And not for any sane reason. After pulling out of Chloe's driveway, I'd driven halfway around the block, doubled-back, and parked two doors down from her house. And then, I'd watched.
I'd been curious. That's all. Who did she live with?
Parked, and mostly hidden in the downpour, I'd studied the place. For how long? Too long. In the end, I learned nothing.
Afterwards, I'd come home to find Brittney and Amber huddled under that stupid umbrella. At the image of Amber standing there, smiling through the goosebumps, I felt like a total asshole. Her skin was pale, and her lips were blue. Dinner, I knew, was a piss-poor repayment. I'd have to do something else. If I were lucky, it wouldn't involve Brittany.
Sitting in the restaurant, I glanced out a nearby window. The rain was gone. It had stopped while I'd been watching Chloe's place. Was that the reason I'd finally left? No more cover?
Probably. My car didn't exactly blend. I should've grabbed the sedan.
"Lawton!" Brittney said.
I glanced over at her. "What?"
"Did you hear what I just said?"
She wasn't worth a pretty lie. "No."
Next to her, Amber spoke up. "She said that her purse was the real deal." Amber frowned. "But I still think the pattern was off."
Just shoot me now.
I glanced at my watch. Eighteen minutes. I looked around, trying to gauge how long this whole thing would take. I should've ordered a salad. I hated salad. But it was fast, right? Because you didn't have to cook it.
"I guess you never know," Amber said, "The purse could've been a factory-second."
"It was not a factory-second," Brittney insisted. "I know, because it was a gift from my mom. Remember? The bank president? She's really into labels, so she knows."
I glanced down at my wrist. Nineteen minutes.
Shit.
Again, I looked around the restaurant. Where was our waitress, anyway? Screw the food. I needed a drink. A stiff one. Maybe two. A few tables away, I spotted a different server. I waited, hoping to catch her eye.
She stood at the end of a low table, talking to a couple of frat-boy types. Gripping their beers, they sat, looking up at her with big eyes and goofy smiles.
Whatever she was saying, she had their undivided attention. The nearest guy was eyeballing her legs like they were the nicest thing he'd seen all year. I gave her legs a good, long look. Easy to see the appeal. They were nice. Better than nice, at least from the back. I hadn't seen the front, but something told me they wouldn’t disappoint.
The poor guy was almost slobbering. A few weeks earlier, I might have slobbered over those legs too. But that was before I'd found her, the girl of my fantasies living almost next door.
Laughing, the waitress turned her head, giving me my first clear view of her face. Suddenly, all of the air got sucked out of the room.
Holy hell. It was Chloe.
Chapter 14
Brittney's voice cut into my thoughts. "You see something you like?"
I swung my head toward her. "What?"
She was holding out a dessert menu. With a long, manicured nail, she gave it a quick tap. "Look. They have sundaes. I haven't had one in ages." She ran a tongue across her top lip. "Doesn't that sound yummy?"
"Yeah." I was only half-listening. "Yummy."
From the corner of my eye, I saw Chloe heading toward the bar area. It was her. Wasn't it?
She had on a lot of makeup, and her hair looked nothing like before. It looked big and stiff, like the hair of the other waitresses, come to think of it.
It didn't fit with what I'd seen before. Wet or dry, Chloe's hair had a nice, natural look. Soft. Smooth. The kind of hair you could run your fingers through. The kind that would fall across a pillow in ways that were just too damn sexy for words.
"Lawton!" Brittney said.
"What?"
"It doesn't have to be sundaes," she said.
Next to her, Amber was nodding. "We could have pie." She smiled over at me. "You like pie, right?"
"Sure," I said. "Great."
In my peripheral vision, I was still watching. Chloe had returned from the bar and was serving drinks to the frat guys. She leaned down to set a beer on the low tabletop. One of guys leaned back in the booth. His gaze zoomed in on her ass. I felt myself tense. That skirt was too small. And too short. The guy leaned closer.
"What kind of pie?" Amber asked. "I like apple, but I could do cherry."
The frat-guy lifted his hand.
I shot to my feet.
Amber looked up at me. "What's wrong?"
I turned to see the frat-guy reaching for his beer – not Chloe.
I sat back down.
"Gosh," Amber said. "You don't have to look so mad. Whatever pie you want is fine by me."
Five minutes ago, I'd been dying to leave. Now, I was dying to stay. The way I saw it, Amber could order every pie in the whole damn place, and I'd be happy as hell. She was a slow eater.
We were sitting in a far booth by the windows, about as far away from Chloe's tables as we could get. The way it looked, she didn't see me. But I could see her. I felt myself smile. My night had just gotten a whole lot better.
"Oh my God," Brittney said.
I didn't bother to look. "What?"
"Aren't those the guys from The Pit?"
The Pit was a club near Troy, a half-hour south of here. I'd taken Amber, along with Brittany, there for Amber's birthday. There had been some trouble. Nothing I couldn’t handle. But nothing I wanted to repeat, not with Chloe around.
Brittney was pointing to the window. "There," she said. "Hanging out by your car."
I looked through the window, and sure enough, there they were, the two guys who'd been hassling Amber at the club. They'd been drunk. It had gotten ugly. It hadn't ended until both guys were on the pavement.
It was pathetic more than anything.
Across from me, Brittney was smiling. "Man, you wiped the floor with those guys." She leaned closer and purred, "You were our hero."
I was no hero. The guys had been drunk off their asses. They'd been stupid and unprepared. I used to fight for a living. They didn't. I glanced at Amber. Unlike Brittney, she didn't look terribly thrilled to see those guys again.
No surprise there. They'd been hassling the snot out of her. When I'd put a stop to it, they'd wandered away, only to jump me later in the parking lot. It had been over in seconds.
Amber bit her lip. "This is my fault. I mean, maybe if I'd just danced with the guy—"
"It wasn't your fault," I said. "So don't say that."
With a shaky smile, she turned to look out the window. "I think they recognize the car."
She was probably right. Once again, I cursed my choice of vehicle. I had nearly a dozen. Like before, I should've brought the sedan. It was dark and businesslike. It blended.
Brittney's eyes were bright with excitement. "You'll probably have to kick their asses again."
Probably.
I gave her a look. "You think that's a good thing?"
"Sure," she said. "Why not? I mean, you're good at it, right?" Her voice became husky. "I heard you're good at a lot of things."
I was good at a lot of things. But she wouldn’t be finding out.
For Amber's sake, I f
lashed them both a grin. "Screw those guys," I said. "They'll be gone by the time we leave. And if they're not?" I shrugged. "I'll handle it. Not a big deal."
I just needed to keep Chloe from seeing.
Chapter 15
An hour later, the food was gone – my cheeseburger, their salads, sundaes, pie, whatever. It wasn't like I paid much attention. I wanted to watch Chloe. What I had to do was watch the guys in the parking lot.
They were just hanging out, circling my car and waiting. For me, obviously. Maybe Amber, too.
Sure, I could've called the police. But I didn't. That wasn't my style. And even if it were, I didn't need the hassle. Neither did Amber. Her mom was running for state senator, and the election was just weeks away.
When it came to publicity, there was only one kind I got. Bad. I was used to that. But Amber's family wasn't.
Inside the restaurant, we'd just gotten the check. I reached for my wallet, peeled off some bills, and tossed them on the table. I stood. "You two wait here, okay? I'll be back in a few."
Brittney looked down at the money. "But wait. How much change do you want?"
"None," I said. "The rest is a tip."
She frowned. "But that's too much."
I glanced down at the money. "That's for putting up with us."
"What do you mean?" she said. "You were totally nice to her."
"Yeah? And you weren't."
She drew back. "I was, too."
"Sure you were." I looked over at Amber. "Remember. Stay here, okay?" I pointed toward the money. "And make sure the waitress gets that."
Brittney huffed. "What do you think? That I'd steal her tip?"
"I don't know," I said. "Would you?"
She crossed her arms. "No."
"Good," I said.
Amber glanced toward the guys in the parking lot. "I still think I should go with you."
"Me too," Brittney said. "I mean, why should we miss all the fun?"
Ignoring Brittney, I turned back to Amber. "Don't worry," I said. "I've got this. Not a big deal." I gave her a smile. "Okay?"
She frowned. "I guess so."
Besides, I had a plan. Keep it low-key. The parking lot was lit, but it was still dark on the edges. There was no need for anyone to see anything. I'd talk to the guys, or if need be, do more than talk. Either way, it would be over in minutes.
And then I'd go back to thinking about Chloe.
I strode out behind a large, noisy group of customers who were just heading out. Once outside, I ditched the group and circled around to the side of the parking lot, sticking to the shadows. A few cars away from mine, I stopped and watched.
The guys were no longer circling my car. Instead, they were leaned up against the hood like they owned the thing. They were still watching the restaurant. Dumb-asses. I didn't know their names. But in my head, I'd given them my own nicknames, Juicer and Chrome.
I strolled up beside them. "Waiting for someone?"
They jumped. Together, they pushed away from the hood and whirled to face me. Chrome glanced around the parking lot. "Where'd you come from?"
I gave the guys a long look. Juicer was big in that steroid kind of way. Chrome was big, but maybe not a juicer. Unlike the other night, both guys looked sober.
I wasn't worried. But that didn't mean I wanted a scene. I stepped closer. "What do you want?"
The two guys exchanged a glance. The way it looked, I'd thrown them off their game, whatever it was.
But then, Juicer smiled. His teeth were too big and too white. Veneers, probably. He stepped forward. "I want to fuck your girlfriend."
Who? Amber?
I almost laughed. "Is that supposed to piss me off? Make me swing at you? Is that the plan?" I gave a sad shake of my head. "You're kidding, right?"
They exchanged another glance. And that's when I knew. That was their plan.
I'd seen it before, too many times. Like countless guys before them, they were a couple of local hot-shots who thought they were tough. They wanted to brag to their friends, or more likely the media, how they kicked Lawton Rastor's ass.
Yeah, good luck with that.
I crossed my arms. "I don't have a girlfriend." I flicked my head toward Chrome. "But hey, you can fuck your friend if you want."
Chrome muscled his way forward. "He's not my type."
I shrugged. "Eh, not for me to judge."
His gaze narrowed. "There's nothing to judge, asshole."
Juicer whirled on him. "He knows that. He's just messin' with ya. What the fuck is wrong with you? You stupid?"
I almost smiled. "He was looking at your ass," I said.
I didn't specify which "he" I meant. The way I saw it, it didn't matter. A couple minutes of this, and they'd turn on each other. They always did.
Except this time, they didn't. But it wasn't because of me. And it wasn't because of them. It was because of Brittney, whose voice rang out across the pavement. "Kick their asses, Lawton!"
My back was to the restaurant. I didn't want to look. But I did anyway. And there she was, Brittney, along with Amber and a few dozen other people.
I gave Amber a what-the-hell look.
She gave me a little wave. "Sorry!" she hollered across the parking lot. "But we wanted to cheer you on!"
A split-second later, something slammed into me. It was Juicer, looking to knock me to the pavement. When I kept my balance and hit him back, the small crowd went nuts.
Well, so much for a low profile.
Chapter 16
We'd been at it for just a couple of minutes. The crowd was bigger now. Closer too. Juicer and Chrome were taking turns, running at me, one after another. But they were slow. And sloppy. I could've fought them in my sleep.
Already, Chrome looked ready to drop. I watched as he staggered backward, over-corrected, and fell forward, doing a hard face-plant on the pavement. When he lifted his head, his nose was bloody, and not just a little.
Broken? Hard to say.
I glanced at Juicer. He looked equally unsteady, but more determined. I waited, hoping he'd just fall over already – or better still, get in his damn car and drive off.
He didn't.
With a guttural roar, he barreled toward me. My fist connected with his jaw, sending him whirling off to the side. He crashed into a couple of college-aged guys. One of the guys gave Juicer a good shove, sending him back into the circle.
I stepped back and waited. Was he done? I sure as hell hoped so. I scanned the crowd. Around us, people were filming us with their cell phones. For what? Did it matter? Facebook, Youtube, whatever. By now, it was all the same to me.
In the mirrored reflection of a nearby car-window, I saw myself standing there in the center of the crowd. I looked like a stranger – tattooed, muscled, and tinged with orange, thanks to the eerie glow of the tall parking lot lights.
How had it come to this?
From somewhere behind me, an unfamiliar female voice hollered out, "Hey! Take off your shirt!"
In front of me, Juicer regained his balance long enough to holler back, "Later! I'm busy!"
"Not you!" the same voice rang out. "Lawton!"
"Yeah!" another girl called. "Show us your abs!"
Through the noise of the crowd, I heard a different female voice, Brittney's. "Zip it, sister," she hollered. "He's our guy. Not yours."
Taco Town. I should've gone when I had the chance.
I glanced toward the nearby restaurant and prayed like hell that Chloe was still inside. Another glance at the crowd, and I was done praying.
It was too late. She was here. Outside.
Worse, she was with another guy, some football player type. They were standing together in a pickup bed, along with a few other people. Chloe stood on her tiptoes, saying something in the guy's ear. He was smiling.
Was that her boyfriend? Or just a customer?
The guy looked too damn happy. What was she telling him?
In front of me, Juicer said, "You're dead meat," and plowed for
ward, head first.
I hit him again. He doubled over, and then stumbled backward a couple of steps.
Just fall over already.
From the pavement, a few feet away, Chrome was trying to push himself up. I gave him a quick glance. Eh, nothing to worry about. I looked back to Juicer. By now, he was wobbling, swaying from side-to-side like he'd had five beers too many.
Around us, the crowd grew silent, as if waiting for him fall over and be done with it.
One good punch, and I could finish him off. From the corner of my eye, I saw Chloe, standing there with wide eyes and parted lips.
Like the rest of the crowd, she was watching and waiting. I glanced at Juicer. He staggered to the side, but somehow managed to keep his balance. Yeah, I could finish this. But if I hit the guy in his condition, what would she think of me then?
Shit. What did she think of me now?
A cold rage settled over me. I hadn't asked for this. And if this idiot was ruining my chances with Chloe, he deserved whatever he got.
In the distance, I heard something new. Sirens. The crowd shifted, but held its ground, buzzing with the usual sounds. The phones were being held up higher now. Waiting for my arrest, probably.
How much would the tabloids pay for that?
Fuck.
Slowly, I walked forward. I wrapped an arm around the guy's neck and spoke low into his ear. "Try this shit again, and next time, you'll be losing those pretty white teeth."
The guy tried to laugh. It came out too high and too loud. "Oh yeah?" he said. "Well try it, and you're dead."
I made a scoffing sound. "Like that scares me."
The sirens were louder now. They were almost here. Juicer glanced at his friend, then at the crowd, and then back at me. Finally, with muttered curses, he wobbled off, stopping just long enough to help Chrome off the pavement.
Together they shuffled toward a dark SUV with even darker windows. Chrome struggled into the passenger's seat while Juicer got behind the wheel. Seconds later, the vehicle squealed off, leaving the whole mess behind them.
What a cluster.
Around me, the crowd was closing in, wanting the usual stuff – autographs, pictures, congratulations. Screw that. Silently, I walked toward my car. Brittney and Amber followed after me. I stopped, opened the passenger door and waited as they climbed inside, settling next to each other on the wide front seat.
Lawton Page 6
