Duty (Andino + Haven Book 1)

by Bethany-Kris

  She was her own person. She could make her choices. He had to respect them even if all he had wanted to do was everything and anything but let her go.

  So, here he was two months later, and he still hadn’t figured out how to let go of the blonde, tattooed woman he wasn’t allowed to have. Kind of fucked up in a way, but it was just one more thing on the pile of shit that had become Andino’s life.

  He reached his front door, and hesitated to grab the knob because of the flyer stuck in between the crack in the doorjamb. He pulled it out, and his gaze drifted over the New Year’s Eve party announcement for a familiar business.

  Safe Haven.

  Yeah.

  The world was having a good laugh at him.

  Or God.

  Someone.

  It wasn’t unusual for clubs to print out thousands of flyers, and pay someone a set fee to go and tape the promotion to every door they could find within ten miles. It just so happened to be Andino’s fucking luck that his house was about ten blocks away from Haven’s club.

  He looked over the details again, and considered …

  Should leave her be.

  She’s not like you.

  Don’t let this life touch her, Andino.

  His mind—as punishing as it was—happened to be right in a lot of ways. Haven was untouched by his life, and the mafia. She wasn’t like him in a lot of ways, but he found comfort in the fact that she was familiar enough that he wanted her.

  God.

  He wanted her.

  Crumpling the flyer in his hand, Andino glanced down the street and watched the falling snowflakes fill the air in heavy, white sheets. His mind was the smart part of him—logical, in control, and always pushing to do the right thing even when it felt wrong to him. His heart, though, that was a whole other matter.

  Thing was—Andino hadn’t even realized his heart had a fucking voice until Haven showed up in his life.

  His heart wanted something different than his mind, of course.

  It’d been two months.

  He should leave her be.

  Hadn’t she made her choice?

  It was just too damn bad that Haven hadn’t allowed Andino a choice, too. That was the thing—there had been two of them involved in whatever they were, and only one of them made the decision to walk away.

  That hadn’t been him.

  TWELVE

  New Year’s Eve was always busy, but when Safe Haven decided to put on a special with a burlesque show, a promised dance from a favorite—Valeria—who didn’t dance often, and also cut prices on drinks amongst their regular acts?

  The place became a circus.

  Jackson slid behind the bar looking entirely out of his element as he shoved three bottles of the club’s most requested vodka onto the shelves. Poor guy, Haven mused. He was far more accustomed to handling the employees, and doing paperwork when the need called for it. Working behind the bar and dealing with patrons was beyond his paygrade, really.

  “Is that all you need, or—”

  “Take a break,” Haven called to the manager.

  Hell, he might have a fucking aneurism if he didn’t, what with the way that vein in his forehead was bulging out. She really couldn’t afford for one of her employees to drop tonight when the place was just getting started.

  Also, ambulances really dampened a party.

  “Are you sure?” Jackson asked. “I don’t mind helping.”

  Haven rolled her eyes. “You mind—this isn’t your job, I get it. Go take a break, and then check in with Val for me, okay? She’s on in forty minutes or so.”

  Jackson saluted Haven with two fingers. “You got it, boss.”

  He was quick to leave, then.

  Fine by her.

  Shouts and cheers lit up the crowd, taking Haven’s attention away from the line of shots she was pouring for a group of smartly-dressed men at the bar. They were polite, and gracious, and didn’t fucking leer. All things Haven appreciated in her customers, but especially when she was one of the women stuck behind the bar for the majority of the night. Compared to some of the patrons who came through on any given night, these men were saints.

  Across the floor, Haven watched the main stage as the line of burlesque dancers dropped off behind the curtain one by one. Eventually, they were all gone from the stage except for the main girl with the biggest head piece who was almost entirely naked but for a few well-placed pieces of her costume.

  Those girls put on a damn good show.

  Well worth their price.

  Haven was all the way down the bar ten minutes later, and mixing a margarita for a chatty redheaded woman with another girl hanging off her arm when Valeria slipped in behind the bar. Her friend shot her a wide smile as she automatically started taking orders from whoever hadn’t been served, and was still standing there waiting.

  “What are you doing?” Haven called down. “You’re supposed to be on the stage in thirty minutes!”

  Valeria shrugged as she reached for a bottle of schnapps. “You need an extra pair of hands—here they are.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “It’s fine, Haven. I’m ready.”

  She didn’t look like it.

  No outfit.

  No heels.

  At least, Val’s hair and makeup was done.

  That was something.

  “Fifteen minutes,” Haven told her friend. “That’s it, and then you have to go back and finish getting ready. Got it?”

  “Someone’s bossy tonight, huh?”

  Valeria winked.

  Haven only laughed.

  She was grateful for the extra help, though, no matter what she said to Valeria. Between her, the girl working at the other side of the bar, and Valeria handling the middle, the patrons were covered, drinks were flowing, and Haven ended up needing to call Jackson in early from his break, so he could empty the register of larger bills.

  It was a good night.

  A great night, really.

  A lot like every other night lately.

  Haven was grateful for it—to be busy, and to be successful. But mostly, work gave her an escape. Something to keep her mind distracted, and her hands busy. She’d put in more hours at this club over the last couple of months than she had even when she first took it over from her father after buying him out.

  Why?

  She needed the distraction.

  She needed something …

  Anything to keep her mind from drifting back to the way Andino Marcello looked the night she left his place. Something to keep her from picking up the phone, and shooting him a text just to see how he was.

  The guy had proven he was bad news.

  He purposely hid things from her about himself that might have made Haven reconsider her involvement with him.

  And yet, she still missed him.

  Still thought about him.

  Still wondered.

  “You okay?” Valeria asked.

  Haven glanced up from the bar, and realized she’d been wiping the same spot with a rag for the last two minutes. She found a patron waiting on the other side to be served, and Valeria to her left looking at her like she had suddenly grown a second head.

  “Sorry,” Haven said. “Went somewhere else for a second.”

  “Okay.”

  Haven looked at the patron with a wide smile. “What can I get for you, sir?”

  “Long Island Iced Tea.”

  Really?

  Well, it was his drink.

  Not hers.

  “You got it,” Haven said.

  Valeria slipped past Haven to head for the small waiter’s door behind the bar. “My dance is twenty minutes at most. If the bar is still crazy by the time I am done, I will be back here to help you. No arguments—got it?”

  Haven laughed. “Now who is the bossy one?”

  Her friend winked, but said nothing as she disappeared into the crowd. Without that extra pair of hands helping behind the bar, it wasn’t long before people were backed
up again waiting for drinks between the patrons coming to the bar themselves, and the servers on the floor bringing drink orders to Haven and the other bartender.

  She was grateful for this night.

  For the work.

  The money.

  This distraction …

  She just wished—

  Haven’s thought process dropped off midstream as a buzzing sensation skimmed over her body. It was like static crawled over her skin while butterflies beat in her stomach. She knew exactly what caused that strange reaction damn near instantly.

  The crowd swelled, and moved closer to the stage while the DJ announced the next act—Valeria. Still, Haven couldn’t find him. She looked, but she found nothing.

  A sea of faceless people.

  It had to be him, though.

  Andino.

  He was the only fucking thing that made her feel alive just by walking into a room. She didn’t have to see him for that reaction to be the same. Two months later, and he still managed to do that to her.

  So, where was he?

  • • •

  “Haven,” one of the three servers said as she came up to the bar, “drink order for table fifteen.”

  “Thanks, I’ll have it for you—”

  “No, they requested you serve it.”

  Haven hesitated on taking the slip from the girl’s hand. “Me?”

  Talia nodded. “That’s what they want.”

  Ugh.

  It wasn’t uncommon for a regular—or even someone Haven knew personally outside of the club—to request she be the one to serve their drinks when they were sitting at a table. Mostly, they just wanted to say hello, or have her sit down with them to have a drink.

  Nothing big.

  Except tonight was busy.

  She really couldn’t afford to be away from the bar for too long, but she also didn’t want to offend a regular or a friend, either. What could she do?

  Oh, yes.

  Learn to tell people no.

  Tonight was not the night when she learned how to do that, though. Lucky for whoever it was that wanted their drink served by her personally.

  Haven pointed at the server before the girl could turn away, and go back to taking orders from the floor. “You can pour a shot, and figure out which beer is which, right?”

  Talia shrugged. “Yeah, but that’s about all I can do.”

  “That’s all you need to do for ten minutes. Any special drinks, and you direct them down the bar. Cover my spot, thanks.”

  Haven quickly poured the three fingers of scotch that Talia had scratched on the drink order, grabbed two napkins from under the bar, and headed out on the floor to find table fifteen. She knew which table was which—fifteen was the table closest to the furthest stage at the far end of the club. A single person table meant for one, and not for more.

  A group of guys got up from a table Haven was passing, causing her to step wide to the side in order to keep out of their way and save the drink in her hand at the same time. They hadn’t even seen her coming—no wonder, considering how full the club was at the moment—and she hadn’t seen them getting up until it was too late.

  One gave her a smile. “Sorry.”

  “No worries.”

  Spinning back around to face whoever was waiting for her at table fifteen, Haven froze on the spot at the man sitting there. She should have known.

  Goddammit.

  That strange feeling from earlier that made her think Andino had been watching her from somewhere in the crowd had left after a while. She’d gotten lost in work, and stopped looking to see if he was actually there or not. She wouldn’t say she had forgotten—her mind simply put him and his possible presence on the backburner while she went back to doing her fucking job. Clearly, that had been a mistake on her part.

  Here he is.

  “Andino,” Haven greeted, sliding in beside his table and ignoring the patrons at the booth next to his. “I’d like to say I’m surprised to see you here, but I can’t say that I am.”

  He glanced sideways at her, all striking green eyes, a strong jaw relaxed in his smile, and an aloof attitude that made her think cool, calm, and always collected. Wasn’t that Andino in a nutshell? She didn’t think this man knew how to be fucking emotional.

  Goddamn him, too.

  He looked good.

  He’d ditched the usual three-piece suit for dark wash jeans, a plain white T-shirt, and a black leather jacket with the sleeves pushed up his forearms. And those arms. God, she loved his arms—next to his face and his cock, she swore they were his best fucking feature.

  “You were expecting me?” he asked smoothly, arching a brow.

  Haven saw that trap for what it was, and refused to walk into it. There was no way in hell she was about to explain to this man that, yes, she absolutely had felt his presence from the moment he walked into her business. Frankly, she didn’t know how to deal with that. She wasn’t at all sure that he would know what to do with it.

  And did he really need that information?

  Haven didn’t think so.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  Andino’s attention went back to the stage, and she felt the loss of his gaze instantly. The buzzing through her nerves, the humming on her skin, and the tightness in her chest was gone the moment he looked away from her. The heat traveling through her body was quick to leave, too—a coldness remained in its wake.

  Look at me again, she wanted to say.

  Make me feel like that again.

  Only you do that to me.

  Haven kept quiet.

  She was a damn mess. It had been her who chose to walk away from Andino, and not the other way around. She did that for good reasons—all good reasons! Him showing up, and looking at her should not make a difference to why she had chosen to walk away.

  And yet …

  Here she was.

  Entirely fucked.

  All because of him.

  Andino nodded at the stage subtly, saying, “Watching the show.”

  Haven stiffened, but didn’t bother to look at what he was talking about. She didn’t need to look at the stage to know it was one of her girls dancing—Marney, actually, who specialized in erotic dancing with little tricks, but more sensual moves and things of that nature. She was a favorite of the patrons, and—

  “She’s new, isn’t she?” he asked quietly, passing Haven another glance.

  She couldn’t tell if he was actually interested in watching Marney, or just trying to see if he could piss Haven off. He was succeeding. She’d never really felt jealousy before—didn’t have time for nonsense like that.

  And yet, there she was.

  Green all over.

  It burned like bile in her throat, and made her fist clench into a tight ball at her side. She was sure she was scowling because she sure as fuck wasn’t smiling in those moments. Heat shot through her body the longer Andino watched the stage instead of staring at her. She was holding his drink of scotch so firmly that she very well might break the damn glass.

  “She is new,” Haven managed to say. “Started last month.”

  “Very beautiful.”

  Jesus Christ.

  She had all she could do not to pour that goddamn drink over his head. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t look good for her, or her business. She didn’t need to be making a show over a man. And besides, watching the girls strip was kind of what this place was about, anyway.

  Haven set the drink down in front of Andino—maybe a little harder than was necessary—but his gaze never drifted away from the stage. “Since when do you drink scotch?”

  His lips curved upward at the edge.

  Just the hint of a smirk.

  Sexy in a blink.

  Dark.

  A promise of sin.

  His gaze finally drifted away from the dancing woman, and lingered on Haven’s face in a way that made her think she was the only thing he was actually seeing. He made her feel like all the noise in the c
lub silenced, that every person faded into the background, and it was just him and her right then, and there.

  You walked away for a reason.

  It was a good reason.

  Except … when he looked at her like that, and she was reminded of all the other things she did know about Andino that had nothing to do with the stuff she didn’t like … well, it was easy to forget, and wish she could turn back the clock.

  “I don’t drink scotch,” he said.

  Haven lifted a brow. “Then, why—”

  “I thought you might know it was me if I asked for whiskey.” His intense gaze traveled down the flimsy crop top she’d pulled on to wear to work, and then lingered on her jean-covered legs for a while. “You’re looking good.”

  “Thank you.”

  Andino’s tongue peeked out to wet his bottom lip—an action that made Haven wet between her thighs considering she knew just how good he was at putting that tongue to use between her thighs.

  Yeah, you went there fast, girl.

  Of course.

  “Did you really come to watch the show, or did you come to see me?” she asked.

  “Maybe both.”

  “I could just have a bouncer escort you out, you know.”

  Andino shrugged his wide shoulders, and went back to staring at the stage. “I mean, you could try, baby. We’ll see how it works out for you.”

  Asshole.

  Haven huffed, and spun on her heel to leave.

  “I will take that whiskey, though,” he called behind her. “Have someone else serve it, if you want. You seem a little pissed off.”

  You think?

  • • •

  “Last call!”

  Haven’s shout echoed over the bar, and throughout the crowd. Hands flew up from those close to the bar to grab their final drinks before the night was over, and Safe Haven officially closed their doors.

  Valeria was back behind the bar helping, but things had slowed down quite a bit. The main acts were over, but there was still one girl left to finish her dance before the security would begin helping people out.

  And calling cabs for those who clearly needed one.

  “Take five,” Haven called down to the other bartender. Even if it was last call … “Me and Val can handle this final rush.”