Worth More Than Money

by Lexy Timms

  His face was a mask and his eyes fell to my breasts. I knew I looked ridiculous, with soapy hot water forcing my shirt to cling to my body. I wrapped my arms around my chest, glaring at him as his eyes rose to meet mine. Then I stepped up to the plate and angled my face so I didn’t once unhook my eyes from his.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked.

  I watched him frown, probably at the tone of my voice.

  “I’ve come here for you,” Gray said. “No other reason I’d set foot in a town like this.”

  “And here I thought our drink specials had brought in another faithful patron.”

  His haughty tone made me sick.

  “If you’ve come to talk, I’m too busy working. And I don’t have time for your critique of my life here in Middle America. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”

  His face tightened and I expected him to move, but he didn’t. He didn’t respond. He didn’t speak. And he didn’t move out of my way. The silence made me feel uncomfortable, and when he took a step towards me I stepped back. My ass hit the edge of the metal sink, preventing me from going anywhere else.

  “What?” I asked him. “Aren’t you going to move?”

  “Sorry. I just didn’t expect the mother of my child to be a sloppy waitress at some road house in the middle of nowhere.”

  My jaw dropped so low it nearly hit the floor. Who the hell did this asshole think he was? I pressed my hands into his chest and shoved him away from me, and the shock that rolled through his system shone on his face. I took a step and shoved him again. I shoved and I shoved until he stumbled out through the door. Trey whipped his head around and furrowed his brow, registering the anger on my face.

  “Patrons aren’t allowed back there,” Trey said.

  “Back off and mind your own business, Gray,” I said. “And if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll have management toss you out on your ass.”

  “Michelle, is this man bothering you?” Trey asked.

  “He sure as hell is. Cornered me against the sink and wouldn’t stop staring at my tits.”

  Trey stepped in front of me and I watched Gray turn his anger onto him. Good. Now I could change my damn shirt. I walked into the backroom while Trey accosted Gray of his own volition while I rummaged around in one of the dusty boxes. Trey kept a lot of the logo’d shirts on the premises in case any of the waitresses got theirs too messy or wet. I dug through the box until I found one my size, then worked my way to the small bathroom to change.

  My hands shook as I peeled the wet shirt from my body and replaced it with the dry one.

  What in the world was Grayson thinking, showing up in Williston like that? And how had he found me? I knew I shouldn’t have confided in that ticket master on where I was going. I should’ve gotten a bus ticket to a neighboring town, then taken a cab back home. So now I was paying the price for my convenience. I used my wet shirt to wipe at the shoddy mirror in the bathroom, then tried fixing myself up a little bit. I revamped the bun on top of my head and brought a few tendrils of hair to wisp around my features. I fixed up my eyeliner and pulled my lip gloss out to paint a little more on.

  The only thing I could do was get back out there.

  “Michelle? You in there?”

  Trey knocked on the door before I swung it open.

  “Sorry. Had to change my shirt,” I said.

  “I talked to the man. He ordered shots for the entire room, and that seemed to settle the guys down. He’s back at your table, though.”

  “You didn’t kick him out?”

  “He said if you served him, there’d be a good tip in it for you. I made sure he was talking about money and not something else, so I told him if he wanted to stay, he had to tip you now.”

  Trey held out a wad of cash that made my eyes widen.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “All he said was it’s your tip for tonight plus the money he owes you. Do you know him?”

  I looked down at the money and snickered. He was paying me for the work I did with him at Anton’s house. Getting it ready for showing.

  Holy hell. How had that showing gone? Did Gray sell Anton’s house? A blanket of sadness settled over me at the thought.

  “You good to work?” Trey asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, as I stuck the cash in my apron. “I’m good to go.”

  “If you don’t want to carry that kind of cash around you all night, you can lock it away in the safe back here. And I’ll keep an eye on you tonight. You know, to make sure he doesn’t do anything else.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  But I knew it was an empty promise. It always was with Trey. He wasn’t going to do anything about any sort of nonsense if it brought him in money.

  Money.

  It was always about money with people.

  I had no idea how I was going to make it through the rest of the night. I tightened my apron and zipped the pouch up, making sure no one could snake their hands in there and take my hard-earned money. After putting up with all of Gray’s verbal abuse, I sure as hell earned that wad of cash. I walked back out to a load of beer orders for men sitting at my tables, but not one of the orders were for Gray.

  Good.

  That meant I didn’t have to serve him just yet.

  I popped open the beers and filled the mugs, then loaded a few shots onto my tray. I carried them around and divvied them out, grimacing and forcing a smile whenever a man tapped me on the ass. I hated every second of it, and the fact that Gray was staring me down made me hate it even more. I felt like a piece of bait being dangled. And I could feel his scrutiny from across the room. I picked up empty mugs and beer bottles and made my rounds, making sure no one needed any food or refills or anything like that.

  And all the while, I tried to keep my mind off Gray.

  Off the shrouded man in the corner eyeing me like a hawk.

  Chapter 13

  Grayson

  Sitting at the sticky table in the corner, I watched Michelle while she worked. I needed to go back to my hotel room. I should get out of there and leave all this shit behind for good. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Where the hell had that horrible comment come from anyway? What kind of an asshole had I turned into? It just flew off my tongue before I could stop it, but I wouldn’t apologize for my disgust. Michelle was so much better than this place. Did she not realize that? Did she not understand that she could literally get a damn job anywhere she wanted?

  Why the hell was she stuck getting slapped on the ass in a damn dive bar?

  I needed to go apologize for my rude comment. I was being an asshole and, honestly wasn’t acting any better than the likes of Andy. I needed to be better. If I stood a chance of figuring out whether the child was mine or not, I needed to not drive her further away.

  After all, she’d already run several states away because of me.

  It had been simple enough to find her. Way simpler than it was to forget her. And seeing her again made my cock shoot hard instantly. The way that shirt had clung to her tits. The way her face glistened with the sweat of her hard work. What I wouldn’t give to massage the ache of a long day in a smoky bar away with my tongue. The second I had laid my eyes on her, my body screamed for attention. Beckoned to have her pressed against me.

  I was under her spell. A spell that seemed relentless.

  Shaking my head, I crossed my arms over my chest. I sure as hell didn’t need to be having that kind of a reaction to her. There was still the chance that child wasn’t mine. But even the thought didn’t deter me from wanting her. Didn’t deter me from wanting to mark her as my own and slam into that body of hers until she remembered who she belonged to. I watched Michelle rush around, bussing empty mugs and bottles while being harassed by the men in that bar.

  Yet, she somehow retained her innocence.

  She still looked beautiful. Still doe-eyed and bright with light. Even though the chance of her being the sneakiest manipulator of them all was still
there, I wondered why she would still be putting on the act. I watched her for twenty minutes before she acknowledged I was there. And, in her defense, I slipped in with the express purpose of being unseen. In the absence of knowing I was there, she still looked innocent. Absolved of all wrongdoing and more determined than ever.

  Why keep up the act if the man the act was meant for hadn’t been there to witness it? Was she trying to keep her hometown fooled?

  Or did I have it all wrong?

  I was affected by her. Physically and emotionally. I’d never felt so vulnerable and so wanton for a woman before in my life. And I hated it. I hated it and I loved it and I cursed it and I cheered it. I wanted to scoop her into my arms and whisk her away to a better life, and I wanted to sit her down in a doctor’s office until she succumbed to the idea of a paternity test.

  I wanted to drag her away from it all and take care of her, while still wanting to scream at her and ask her why she did it.

  If she did it.

  Was she doing it?

  I watched her grace all of those greasy, oiled men with her friendly smile while jealousy roiled in my gut. Why the hell was she looking at other men like that? Did she think she’d get better tips or something? I just handed her a wad of cash to the tune of two thousand dollars. What the hell was she still doing trying to peddle for tips? Was she that desperate? Another reason I had to figure out if that child was mine. If she didn’t have the means to take care of it and I did, then we needed to sit down and talk. Because she sure as hell wasn’t going to drain me of my money simply because I’d been neglectful of a damn condom.

  Why the hell did I care what she did to get tips? She was a liar and a cheat. At least, there was the chance of that. And why the hell should I give her the benefit of the doubt? She was the one that ran this time. I told her to stay put so we could sort shit out, and she hauled ass out of town on a one-way bus ticket. Why run if someone didn’t have something to hide?

  I wondered if my private investigator had the skills to get her medical records to me.

  Maybe she’d already had a DNA test and knew who the father was. Or maybe she wasn’t pregnant at all. Holy shit, had Michelle had an abortion?

  That didn’t make sense. My P.I. told me she had another appointment in three months.

  Had she seen the baby? Was it growing like it needed to?

  I shook the questions from my hand and continued to study her while she worked.

  She continued to smile and be a little too friendly with the patrons and I continued to envision their deaths every which way possible. I wanted to beat the shit out of any man that looked at her the wrong way. That slapped her ass, asked her for a titty shot or made any sort of rude comment regarding her body. It took all the strength I had to keep my ass in my seat, because all of them would’ve been bloodied and bruised on the fucking floor.

  Hell, I could’ve released my father on these assholes and watched them burn.

  “Come on, beautiful. Just one dance.”

  I watched one of the drunken lugs get out of his seat and put his hands on Michelle’s hips. I watched her shake her head and try to push him away, but the man kept pressing himself into her. Backing her into a table. I looked over at the man who supposedly owned the bar and his nose was down in his damn phone. He didn’t give a shit what happened to Michelle as long as she made him money.

  “I have to cut you off,” Michelle said. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

  “Then I can think of something to eat to soak up all this alcohol,” the man said.

  In a flash, that man ducked down and put Michelle over his shoulder. She cried out and put her fist into the man’s back, kicking her legs as he carried her over to the dance floor. His hands rubbed liberally over her ass, as she struggled all the while. No one touched her that way. No one swooped her off her feet but me. Especially after she’d told him no.

  I was out of my chair before I could catch myself and headed straight for them.

  I tapped the man on the shoulder as Michelle continued to wiggle against his grasp. And when he turned to look at me, he gave me that once-over most men did. Sizing me up before trying to figure out if he could slug me and get it over with. Michelle grabbed the man’s wrists and tried to get out of his grasp before her eyes whipped up to my face, and it took all the strength I had not to break that man’s jaw on the damn spot.

  “I’m pretty sure the young lady said she wasn’t interested,” I said.

  “And I’m pretty sure you’re overstepping some boundaries,” the man said.

  I watched his hand reach out for Michelle again and I lost my mind. I drew my fist back and popped the man square in his jaw, feeling it dislocate underneath the force behind my hand. He stumbled onto his ass while everyone in the bar got out of their seats, and then I heard the owner’s voice.

  “What the fuck!?”

  Yeah. He didn’t have an issue with Michelle practically being raped by a patron, but he had an issue with me punching the guy so he couldn’t drink anymore.

  I had half a mind to buy the bar out from underneath him.

  “Are you insane!?” Michelle exclaimed.

  I whipped my wide eyes up to her as confusion filled my chest. She didn’t want me to slug the guy?

  “Come on,” she said with a groan.

  She grabbed me by the arm and dragged me outside while Trey or whatever the fuck his name was scraped the man off the floor. The doors swung open and the cool air of North Dakota hit me before Michelle whirled around and looked at me.

  “What the hell was that?” she asked. “That guy has a table full of friends whose sole purpose is to come into bars and get in fights. It’s like a local sport around here. You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

  “Where do I sign up to join the team?” I asked flatly.

  She shook her head, her eyes wide as she raked her hand through her hair.

  “You need to leave,” she said.

  “I need to leave? Not the man that literally picked you up and threw you over his shoulder like a damn cave man after you told him no?” I asked.

  “You need to leave so they don’t come out here and kill you, Gray. All of them pack heat. They’ll shoot you in a heartbeat.”

  “Fine. Then I’ll go. But only if you come with me.”

  “What!?” she exclaimed.

  “We need to talk. Like adults. And I have some apologizing to do.”

  “Yeah. You really do,” she said.”

  “Where the hell is that asshole?”

  Michelle’s eyes widened with fear as I turned to look at the front door of the bar. The guy I’d hit stuck his head out, holding his jaw as his goonies stood beside him. I felt Michelle’s hand wrap around my wrist as she dashed into the parking lot, but soon I was the one in front. I pulled her off to the side and towards the SUV I rented, then the two of us scrambled inside.

  I unlocked it and sped off before we could even get our seat belts on as the men chased after my car into the road.

  I heard Michelle panting for breath and felt her stare on me. She looked at me as if I had positively lost my damn mind. And maybe I had. I glanced over at her and took in her wild hair and her flushed chest. What I wouldn’t give to lean over and kiss those lips of hers. I made my way back to the hotel I’d found. It wasn’t anything special, but it was the nicest thing this small town had to boast of. A quaint bed and breakfast with one floor all to myself with a jetted tub and a small walk-in shower.

  I was used to better, but it would do for the time I was in Williston.

  “Do you get into a fight at every bar you enter?”

  Michelle’s voice ripped me from my trance as a chuckle bubbled up my throat. I thought back to the fight in Stillsville as I rolled down the windows, letting in the fresh air. I looked over at Michelle and watched her relax into the seat, her eyes watching the passing of her hometown.

  A small town girl, hopping around and trying to find her place in the world.

 
The more I sat with her, the more I wondered if she was capable of what I’d accused her of. My adrenaline buzzed through me, increasing the urge I had to kiss her. To set her in my lap, pull my cock out, and slid it into her pussy while I drove down the highway. I could make her cum time after time while we traveled to the airport, then I could screw around with her in my private bedroom on my private jet.

  Then maybe, I could make love to her against the balcony windows of my bedroom while gazing out over my vineyard.

  I shook the thought from my head and bit down onto my lower lip. Anything to suppress the urge I had to taste her. We needed to talk. Not bang each other’s brains out. That was what had gotten us into this situation in the first damn place. Not being able to keep ourselves under control with one another. I stifled my want for her as much as I could until we pulled into the bed and breakfast parking lot. The great thing about this place was that no one was in it. Just me on the third floor with the owner only ducking in during meal time.

  And I paid extra to make sure the owner didn’t duck in much at all. I could cook all my own meals so long as the kitchen was stocked. All I needed was for them to stay away for a few days.

  Hopefully, that would be enough time to convince Michelle of the plan I had rolling around in my head.

  Chapter 14

  Michelle

  Gray parked his SUV in front of the nicest bed and breakfast Williston had to offer as my mind spun with the night’s activities. Every single time Gray swooped into my world, he somehow messed something up. Screwed me over in some way that left me wondering what in the world I was going to do with my life next. I was tired of it. Tired of his machismo and his wishy-washy attitude and his holier-than-thou moments. He was a stick of dynamite, always lit and ready to explode. And I was getting tired of his games.

  Gray opened my door, but I didn’t unbuckle my seat belt. And when I didn’t move, he eyed me with that glare he always gave me when he expected me to comply. I sat there, staring him down, hoping he got the picture.