And why did she have to leave?
They waved to him as they departed and his heart sank. Would she be okay? Would she be safe from Steven? Some strange draw compelled him to follow her, but he resisted the urge and concentrated on his work—something he hadn’t been able to do since she’d walked through the door.
Fifteen minutes later, Ashley approached him, wiping down a cellphone, and placed it on the bar. “I found this under the booth those women were at.”
John picked up the phone. Lori’s or Sarah’s? The rag Ashley had used contained a cleaning agent, wiping out any lingering scent of the owner. He kind of hoped it was Lori’s, because seeing Sarah again would be a bad idea.
Ashley drummed her fingers on the bar. “So, did you ask her out?”
He looked up from the phone. “Did I ask who out?”
“Umm, the one you were obviously hot for all night.” Ashley stood there grinning, enjoying herself way too much.
Oh great, now the whole staff would know. He put the phone down and quickly changed the subject. “So, how’d it go with the guy tonight?”
Her face fell. “It didn’t. His girlfriend showed up. Why does it seem like all the good ones are taken?”
He didn’t know what to say and wasn’t sure she expected a response, so he shrugged and smiled. She shook her head and went back to work.
He picked up the phone. If he went through the address book, he could probably figure out who owned the cell. He pushed the required buttons and it listed only two names: Grandma and Lori. Well, it was definitely Sarah’s phone. But no Mom or Dad? Didn’t she have any other friends? No boyfriend?
The phone rang in his hands. Even though the display didn’t specify the caller, it had to be Sarah. Who else would it be? He took a deep breath and answered the phone on the second ring.
“Oh thank God you found my phone. My name is Sarah. Where did you find it?”
She even sounded angelic over the phone. “This is John from Wings. Ashley found your phone under the table.”
“What a relief. I’ll have to thank her when I see her. Can you hold it for me until tomorrow night?”
Tomorrow night? His heart lifted just thinking about seeing her again.
“Uh, sure. I’ll put it under the bar with your name on it. What’s your last name, just in case I’m not here to identify you?” Or in case he chickened out and disappeared. He searched for a pen and paper.
She hesitated for a moment. What was that about?
“It’s Daugherty.” She spelled it for him.
“Okay, Sarah Daugherty.” He liked the way it sounded off his tongue. “It’ll be waiting for you.”
“Thanks so much, John. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He could hear the want in her voice and he shook his head. Seeing her again would be wrong, wrong, wrong. “Maybe you will. Goodnight, Sarah.”
John disconnected the call, found a rubber band, and wrapped the note around the cell. He ran his fingers over her name. Oh, who was he kidding? He couldn’t stay away if he tried. He held her phone as if he were holding his future.
Chapter 3
Sarah opened her desk drawer to retrieve her purse. Five o’clock had finally arrived. Took its sweet time, too. The day had moved at a turtle’s pace and all because she’d been itching to see John again. Well, she wouldn’t have to wait much longer.
Her boss, Mark Thomason, peeked inside her office. “Oh great, you’re still here.”
“What’s the matter?” Please let it be something quick.
“Jeff has a client due any minute, but something came up and he has to leave. Do you mind taking it? We’ve already had to reschedule twice. I’d hate to do it again.”
He stood there with an eager look on his face. Shoot. Wasn’t this the kind of incident she’d hoped for? A sign maybe they would keep her? John could wait. It wasn’t like they had a date.
“You don’t need to have him reschedule. I can do it.” She closed the drawer. What was another hour or so?
“Great. I won’t forget this. I’ll send him your way when he gets here.”
She looked at the clock. Was the second hand moving slower?
* * * *
John glanced at his watch. Six o’clock.
All day he had deliberated whether or not he should be in the bar when Sarah arrived. Then five o’clock had come. The need to see her again consumed him. Besides, it wasn’t like they had a date. She’d come in and get her phone and that would be that.
He glanced at his watch again. Where was she? He’d expected her arrival by now. Didn’t most people get off work at five?
A couple had just left and John grabbed a tray to police up their mess, anything to pass the time. As he lifted the dirty glasses, Perry strolled through the front door. Shit. Of all the nights to visit. John cursed his bad luck.
Perry spotted him and smiled. “Hey, Johnny. You short a busboy?”
John put the glasses down, grabbed Perry by the collar, and dragged him over to the pool tables, which were currently deserted. “I thought I told you not to troll for food here.”
“You want to twist that knife? I think you missed my heart.” Perry readjusted his Hawaiian shirt, one that had seen better days. The front pocket had been ripped off years ago and the seams contained several small holes.
John stepped back. Maybe he had overreacted a little. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you.”
Perry eyed him suspiciously. “You never are. What gives now?”
Shit. Trying to keep anything from Perry was like keeping a secret in a hospital—impossible. Of course, with him here, maybe John could get some answers. The questions were liable to get him in trouble, though. “If I ask you something personal, can you be honest?”
“Since when am I not honest?” Perry swung his arms out, acting innocent, but like everything else he did, he overplayed it.
John raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? What about the time you said I couldn’t get drunk?”
“Minor technicality. I said you couldn’t get drunk from alcohol, not from a donor who was drunk.” Perry chuckled. “You sure were funny.” When John didn’t laugh with him, he became serious. “Okay, what do you want to know?”
John shoved his hands into his pockets. He was so going to regret asking Perry, but there wasn’t anyone else. “Not that I’m looking to do it, but if I were, if I wanted to date someone, and I’m careful, is it possible?”
Perry’s face lit up and he slapped John on the shoulder. “Johnny’s found a girl? Well, well, well. It’s about damn time. But date?” He frowned and shook his head.
“What does that mean?”
“It means there isn’t a law against dating, but I’m not sure you can handle it. However, there’s nothing wrong with having some fun with one night stands. Hell, I do it all the time.”
“So, you are trolling?”
Perry placed his hand over his heart and threw his head back. “Oh, the pain. Is that what you really think of me?”
John refused to react. One slip and he’d never get rid of his friend.
Perry peeked open one eye, sighed, and then opened the other. “Actually, I came to visit you, but see you’re busy with a girl. Is she here?” He searched the dining room as if he could spot her on his own.
“No.”
“But you’re expecting her?”
Why did Perry have to keep digging? John kept a straight face, hoping not to give anything away. Oh, who was he fooling?
Perry smiled and nodded. “You are expecting her. Hmm. Maybe I should stick around.”
John drew in a deep breath. He must remain calm. Perry was only trying to get to him. “There’s nothing to see. I don’t even know if I want to date her.”
Perry leaned in and studied John’s face for all of two seconds and then stepped back. “Yes, you do.” He rubbed his hands together and grinned. “Oh man, this should be fun.”
Damn
it. John lowered his head. He did want to date Sarah. Whether or not he went through with it was another matter and he certainly didn’t want Perry anywhere around if he decided to go for it. And if she rejected him? Oh, God! “Please don’t do this. Just leave. You can come back later.”
“You’re no fun, Johnny. You know that?”
John looked up. A rare feeling of hope came over him.
“But good luck. You’ll need it.” Perry laughed his way out the back door.
* * * *
Sarah shot a glance at the clock. Six-fifteen. Her client gathered up his papers and shoved them inside a briefcase while yakking about some trip he planned to take in the summer. Why couldn’t he leave already?
He stood. Finally. Hoping it would get him moving faster, she rose with him.
“Thanks so much for seeing me, Miss Daugherty. I sure hope I didn’t keep you from anything.”
Oh great, now she felt like a chump. It wasn’t his fault; any other day she would have willingly helped him. “No problem, Mr. Reynolds. Glad I could help.”
He’d barely cleared the door when she grabbed her purse from the drawer and headed for the closet.
Coat—check. Scarf—check. The elevator car arrived and she stepped inside. As soon as she pushed the button for the garage, fear tingled down her spine. What the hell was she doing? Why hadn’t she asked someone to accompany her? She took a deep breath and willed the fear away. Well, if she couldn’t face the demons of the garage, what hope did she have of changing her life?
The elevator opened to a lighted garage. Someone had replaced the broken bulbs yesterday and the place didn’t look as ominous as before. Still, her heart thumped wildly. Maybe she wasn’t quite ready to face those demons, but what choice did she have? Her car was here. She spotted the Bumblebee—she’d parked beside it again, some habits were just hard to break—and nearly trotted to it while she scanned the area. No matter how nutty she appeared, no one would surprise her again. Not if she could help it.
Quickly, she slipped inside her car and drove off. Less than two minutes later she arrived at Wings, but the closest parking spot was almost as far as the garage. She placed her head on the steering wheel. What an idiot. Thank goodness she was alone. Lori would have never let her live it down.
Sarah exited the car and locked it. Street lights illuminated her way, so at least she’d see anyone coming. When she arrived at the door to Wings, she stopped. Her body tingled as if she were near an electric current. What if John wasn’t there? What if he was?
“God, Sarah. You weren’t this bad in high school,” she muttered. One cleansing breath helped gather the courage to open the door.
The warmth of the room welcomed her and she savored it. Well, maybe it was a little too warm. Sweat formed on her upper lip. She lowered the zipper, but it stopped halfway, stuck in the fabric. Crap. She tugged to free it.
“You need some help?” John asked.
She jumped. Where the heck had he come from? She should have heard him, the place wasn’t that noisy. She looked up at the most amazing blue eyes she’d ever seen. And like the night before, they appeared to glimmer. She was lost in his gaze.
“I uhh.” What the hell was wrong with her voice?
“Here, let me.”
She pulled her hands away and he freed the zipper before she’d finished thinking God, he’s gorgeous.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
He gave a two-finger salute. “John Pennington at your service. Come, sit at the bar.” As he passed a stool, he patted it and she dutifully sat. “See, safe and sound.” He held out her phone.
“Thank you.” In taking the phone, her hand brushed against his. An electrical charge shot up her arm, causing her heart to skip a few beats. She gasped in surprise. A shock, but not a shock—it was more enjoyable than that. As the contact broke, the wonderful tingling sensation remained.
He stood back. “Are you okay?”
She tore her gaze away from her hand and looked up. Oh great, he’d noticed. She took a deep breath, hoping it would calm her heart. It didn’t work.
“I’m fine. Can I have a Diet Coke?” If she was having a heart attack, might she have one every day.
John filled a glass and put the drink on the bar. She hoped for another touch, but he pulled away too fast. When he leaned against the bar, he kept his hands to himself. Had he felt it, too?
“What do I owe you?”
“It’s on the house. So who was the man who bothered you last night?”
He would have to mention the one person she’d rather forget. After taking a few sips, she said off-handedly, “Oh, that was Steven, my ex-husband. He’s having problems with our divorce.” Yeah, like he hadn’t wanted one to begin with.
“I take it the divorce was your idea?”
“It was. You’re sort of my hero, you know?”
He jerked back as if she’d accused him of a crime. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You managed to make Steven leave. I couldn’t. You might want to watch out for him, though. He has a pretty bad temper.”
John relaxed and smiled. “I’m not afraid of Steven. I can take care of myself.”
In that she had no doubt. She still couldn’t get over how he filled out a T-shirt. His body screamed power.
A petite waitress she didn’t recognize approached the bar and handed John an order. Sarah had never seen purple hair up close before. The waitress caught her staring and smiled. Sarah reciprocated then turned her attention to John. He prepared the drinks with such speed. If she tried any of those moves, she’d end up with broken glass at her feet, if not a wet floor. He never made a mistake. His fingers were long and slender; she imagined him running them through her hair and maybe over other parts of her body.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
She blinked out of her dream. Had he asked about her marriage? How did he know? Oh wait, he’d probably seen Steven grab her.
“I’m fine.” Her blouse covered the bruise Steven had left behind. And here she’d thought her abused days were over. “He tries to rattle me, but I try not to let him get to me anymore.”
John nodded. “Good. I don’t think he deserves your time.”
He seemed sincere, and it caught her by surprise. Besides Lori, she couldn’t remember the last time anyone really cared about her. Guess if she wanted to know him better, she should ask him out. She swallowed her nervousness.
“I know this is out of the blue, and I hardly know you, but I’d like to, and I wondered if you wanted to go out. On a date. With me.” Oh God, she sounded like an idiot. She’d be lucky if he didn’t laugh her out of the place.
His expression changed from one of shock to one of delight. Dare she hope? Before he had a chance to answer, the purple-haired waitress returned.
“Sorry to interrupt, Boss, but can I talk to you?”
“Sure, Heather. I’m sorry, Sarah. Would you excuse me? I’ll be right back.”
Well, he hadn’t laughed at her. That had to be a good sign. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said with a smile.
* * * *
What timing. John had been ready to ask Sarah out when she beat him to it. He hoped whatever Heather wanted wouldn’t take long. Sarah might change her mind about the date, or worse, leave.
He followed Heather toward the back door. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s about that step. I thought you said you’d fix it. I nearly broke my neck tonight.”
“What? Are you okay?” Heather didn’t appear to have any scratches on her legs and he wasn’t smelling any blood.
“I’m fine, but you should really do something about that step. I’d hate to see you get sued.”
He entered his office and retrieved his hammer and some nails. “I fixed it the same night you told me about it. You sure it’s the same board?”
She opened the door and hugged herself when the wind came through. “Yeah. Maybe you should
screw it in, instead, ’cause the nail’s not holding. And while you’re at it, you might want to look at the handrail. It’s barely holding on.”
John puffed out a breath as he examined the loose boards. What the hell? He might have only been an obstetrician in his previous life, but he could nail down a board. At least, he thought he could.
* * * *
John and Heather went out the door in the back, leaving Sarah at the bar with nothing to do but suck on her soda. They hadn’t been gone long when a man sat on her right. The bar was practically empty, couldn’t he sit at the other end?
“Wow, you smell like jasmine. You by yourself?”
“Excuse me?” Had he just sniffed her? She turned toward a rather handsome man with eyes the color of emeralds. They had to be contacts—people’s eyes weren’t that green. And what was with this place? His eyes glimmered like John’s. Did hers sparkle, too?
“Are you sitting here by yourself?” He spun on the stool to face her and put his arm on the bar, leaning toward her. He ogled her as if she were his next meal.
He invaded her personal space and she trembled. But he wasn’t Brian and he didn’t sound like her attacker. Just some guy hitting on her. And a raggedy one at that. He looked like a beach bum with his sun-bleached hair pulled into a ponytail and wearing a Hawaiian shirt Goodwill would probably pitch in the trash.
She inhaled slowly, getting a whiff of vanilla, and her bearings. “How is that any business of yours?”
“I make it my business whenever I see someone as pretty as you. Pretty women shouldn’t sit alone.”
His statement set fire to her gut and she welcomed it. The guy had some nerve. What a boor. “Oh, so if I were ugly, it would be okay if I were alone, then?”
He leaned back and raised his eyebrows. “Well, when you put it that way, probably not, but I wouldn’t care.”
He came back toward her, even closer than before. His eyes practically glowed. If he tried to kiss her, she’d have to smack him. She might be able to do it, too.
“You really are quite intoxicating. Did you know that?”
Bite Me I'm Yours Page 3
