by Amber Rides
“So I should try to not sleep with him?” I tried to keep my dismay from showing.
Because if that’s that case, I’m already screwed, I thought. So to speak.
Ridley shrugged and grabbed another turnover. “Or be the arm candy yourself.”
“Make him want a good lay?”
I was kidding, but Ridley just about choked on his pastry. He grabbed my milk and gulped half of it down before answering.
“Trust me. Ian isn’t lacking in that department. He’s a self-avowed man-whore. What you want him to do is to chase you. And be a bit of a mystery.”
I shoved down my worry at Ridley’s description and said, “All right. How should I do that?”
Ridley fingers strummed the table. “Do you know that pizza place on Sixth Ave?”
“Yes.”
“Meet me there tomorrow at eleven in the morning. And wear something inappropriately sexy.”
“Why?”
He shook his head and stood up. “Nope. That’s all I’m giving you. I’ve got to get ready for work, so unless you’re planning on coming upstairs to shower with me…”
“You wish,” I said.
Then I grabbed the last strawberry turnover from his fingers and scurried out the back door before he could catch me.
Chapter Nine
Ridley
The rest of my day passed with surprising speed. My shift at the restaurant, which would normally have been rife with annoying glitches or at the best just have dragged, went by without a hitch.
By the time I finished work, I was so worn out from my sleepless twenty-four hours that I wanted nothing more than to fall into bed.
I was convinced thoughts of Brenna would keep me up. In the end, though, exhaustion won and I fell into a dreamless sleep.
Now that I was sitting in the pizza place waiting for her, the world had slowed down again.
It slowed even further as Brenna stepped into the restaurant.
I had to scramble to keep my mouth from dropping open.
Cowboy boots covered her calves and the world’s shortest jeans shorts covered her ass. The rest of her lightly muscled legs were completely exposed.
She’d left the shorts unbuttoned and folded the waistband over to reveal the curve of her lower abdomen, hinting at what lay below.
My eyes travelled up the length of her bare stomach to the plaid blouse which was tied up just under her full breasts. It had snaps, but she hadn’t bothered to use more than two of them. I had to tear my gaze away from her ample cleavage.
Her hair – and the man on the bar stool’s reaction to it –– was what set me over the edge.
Pigtails. Good God.
Blood rushed to my groin, making me hard and forcing me to shift my legs under the table.
Brenna spotted me and took a step forward. That’s when the stranger’s hand shot out. I watched it close over one of the braids and then yank it firmly, a lascivious grin playing across his mouth.
Brenna stumbled and looked up, a startled expression on her pretty face.
In a heartbeat, I was on my feet.
I shoved through the restaurant, paying no heed to the other customers or the startled servers who jumped out of my way.
As I made my way toward them, the guy grabbed Brenna by the hips and pulled her into his lap. She attempted to stand and he held her in place. Just like that, her expression went from surprised to scared.
When I was almost on them, he finally let her go. As she jumped up, though, he gave her ass a smack and mouthed something I couldn’t hear. Whatever it was, I was sure it wasn’t okay with me.
I moved Brenna to the side as gently as my temper would allow and squared off to face the jerk in the chair.
He looked me up and down. “Can I help you?”
“I think you owe my friend an apology.”
His shot a leer Brenna’s way. “She’s yours? How much is she costing you? I’ll double it.”
“Now you owe her two apologies. Tell her you’re sorry,” I commanded.
“Fuck off.”
“It’s okay, Ridley.” Brenna’s tone was uneasy.
The asshole grinned. “See? She liked the attention.”
“No, Pancake, it’s not okay,” I said through clenched teeth.
I grabbed him by his jacket and pulled him up.
“Tell her you’re sorry. Do it nicely, and maybe I won’t hurt you.”
He shrugged off my grip and drew an arm back. With a sigh, I dodged his clumsy punch, closed my fingers over his throat and pressed him into the wall behind him. His eyes bulged, more in fear than in pain, and I smiled.
“Go ahead,” I said softly. “Everyone’s waiting.”
His gaze flicked to the very quiet restaurant. Every patron had turned our way.
My hostage’s eyes turned back in my direction. “Sorry.”
“Not to me.”
He tipped his head toward Brenna as much as my hold would allow. “Sorry.”
“Try again,” I suggested. “Spice it up a little. There’s something to be said for apologizing with class.”
“C’mon, man,” he muttered. “This is humiliating.”
I raised an eyebrow. “As humiliating as having your hair pulled and your ass squeezed in the middle of a restaurant during the lunch rush?”
He faced Brenna once more and cleared his throat. “I apologize, miss, for my behavior.”
“How’s that, Pancake?”
“Fine,” she whispered.
“You want him to say anything else?” I asked.
“No.”
“All right.”
I released my hand from the guy’s neck, grabbed Brenna’s arm, and yanked her toward the front door.
On the way out, I tossed the hostess a tight-lipped smile. “I had a cola. Douche-Master McAsshole will cover the cost.”
I breathed a little easier once we were outside, but I still had to resist an urge to run back inside to grab a table cloth to cover up Brenna.
I pulled her by her elbow to my truck, opened the passenger door and gestured for her to get in. I stood behind her as she climbed up, keeping my eyes off her ass, and making sure no one else was looking at it either.
She didn’t speak to me until I was in the driver’s seat with my key in the ignition.
“What the hell is the matter with you, Ridley?” she asked.
“With me?”
“You can’t just threaten to beat the living crap out of someone like that! What if he called the cops?”
I put the truck into drive and pulled out of the parking lot.
“Then we’d tell them he assaulted you.”
“Did it occur to you that I could take care of the situation myself?” she demanded.
“No, it didn’t,” I said truthfully.
“Well, maybe it should have!”
I ran my hand through my hair irritably. “Listen. You came waltzing into the pizza place dressed like an episode of Cowgirls Gone Wild and some freak mauled you and I just reacted, okay?”
“Over-reacted,” Brenna retorted. “And that’s not even a real show!”
“Not yet. But it will be the second a video of you, wearing that outfit, turns up in the Internet.”
“You’re the one who said to wear something inappropriately sexy. I just did what you said!”
We stopped at a red light and I turned to face her. “When I said inappropriately sexy, I didn’t mean quite that inappropriate. Or that sexy!”
Her eyes went wide, and a loud laugh burst through her lips, making a pedestrian, who was crossing the road in front of the truck, spin in our direction curiously.
I covered my own sudden grin with my hand. I couldn’t afford to laugh. Not when she was still dressed like that.
“People are staring at you,” I informed her.
“So…You want me to do what? Stop laughing?”
“I want you to put some clothes on.”
“Ridley, you’re being ridiculous.”
“Just indulge me. Please?”
She shook her head. “Even if you weren’t being a maniac…I didn’t bring anything else to wear.”
I slipped off my jacket and handed it to her as the light changed.
“You’re serious?” she wanted.
“So serious it hurts.”
From the corner of my eye, I watched as she slipped the coat over her outfit. The end result was almost worse. She looked like she had nothing underneath. And she still had the goddamned pigtails in.
I reached for the one closest to me, pulled out the elastic at the bottom, and used my fingers to free the hair. It was smooth as silk and slipped between my knuckles in a way that made me burn. I let go and slid my hand over her shoulder to undo the second one. This time I didn’t linger, but her sweet fragrance wafted through the truck and it did nothing to ease my desire.
“Better?” she asked with just a tinge of sarcasm.
“Much,” I lied.
We drove in silence for a few minutes before her warm palm landed on my arm.
“Are we cancelling our plans?”
“What plans?”
“I don’t know. You wouldn’t tell me, remember?”
Shit.
In the heat of the moment, I’d completely forgotten about taking her to see Ian.
And no way in hell was I letting her into his sights like that.
To be honest, I was glad to have an excuse to keep her away from him.
“It’s no longer an option,” I told her.
“What? Why?”
“Because I was going to have you go into his all-male, all-sweaty, all-competitive gym and bait him into a conversation. He wouldn’t be able to help but ask you out.”
“And we can’t do that now?”
I grimaced. “In that outfit? Hell, no. I was picturing a little sundress or some tight jeans. But in that…Christ, Pancake. You walked past one guy with a little too much to prove and barely got by.”
She opened her mouth to protest and I cut her off with a cool glance.
“Save it,” I said. “You can lie to yourself all you want about how you had it under control, but I saw your face. You were scared. Take what that guy had, multiple it by twenty bigger, angrier dudes, and you’ll have Ian’s gym.”
“What makes you think it wouldn’t have gone wrong anyway?”
“You would’ve been under my surveillance. In and out in five minutes.”
“Can’t I just go home and change? Maybe try again?”
I shook my head. “Now I have to go to work. I’m barely going to make it on time as it is.”
She pursed her lips. “What about me?”
“What about you?”
“How am I going to get back to my car? It’s parked at the pizza place.”
“I…Dammit.”
“Yeah, that about sums it up.”
“I’ll get one of the hotel cabbies to drive you back. They can take it from my check.”
“I can catch the bus,” she told me.
“Dressed like that? I don’t think so.”
“You don’t have to protect me.”
I depressed the brakes and skidded off the road. Someone behind us honked, but I ignored it. I turned to face her.
“Did I say something wrong?” I asked.
“No.”
I got the feeling she wasn’t telling the truth. Maybe not lying, exactly. Just not being completely honest. Once again, I wondered what she was hiding.
But I don’t think you should ask, my gut told me.
“C’mon, Pancake,” I said softly. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“And I just don’t see what the difference is between me riding the bus in this outfit or getting into a cab with some undoubtedly male driver.”
Shit. She was right
“You know what? You’re going to get that tour of my kitchen at work a little sooner than I planned.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll have to stick around the kitchen at Serenity until I get a break so I can drive you back to your car.”
“Ridley, I was taking care of myself for a long time before you came along.”
Aha.
There it was. The source of her defensiveness. And it was something I understood. Self-sufficiency was a sore spot for me, too.
“Brenna, I’m not calling you weak,” I said, making sure there wasn’t an ounce of condescension in my voice. “I have no doubt you’d kick some ass if you had to. Especially in those boots.”
A little smile played across her lips. “Thank you.”
I inhaled. The only sorer spot I had than my pride was the fear that someone I cared about would get hurt when I could’ve stopped it.
“But if it’s in my power to stop you from having to kick ass, I’m going to do it. And I’m a stubborn jerk.”
“So there’s no point in arguing with you?”
“Exactly.”
Chapter Ten
Brenna
A funny little crease formed between Ridley’s eyebrows as we pulled into the parking lot at Serenity Hotel and Resort.
I wanted to slide across the bench seat to smooth it out with the tips of my fingers. But I was pretty sure it was an unwise idea to make the space between us any smaller than it already was.
It was bad when he’d unbraided my hair. I’d had to fight to keep from closing my eyes and moaning. It was even worse when I draped his jacket across my shoulders and filled my senses with his masculine scent. It was downright terrible when he’d stood up for me in the restaurant and I’d wanted to bury myself in the safe comfort of his arms.
If I moved to touch him…
Risa’s right, I realized. I do want him.
And there was no way in hell I could have him. And no way in hell I could let on that it was true.
Guilt, shame, and sickness made my guts churn.
I shifted a little closer to the door and stared out the window. It took me a moment to realize I was unconsciously resting my hand on my stomach, stroking a spot right below my belly button. Was I comforting myself? Or the unborn baby? I didn’t know.
“Confession time.”
Ridley’s voice cut through my thoughts, making my mouth go dry and making my hand jerk away from my abdomen.
“Confession time?” I repeated.
He grinned. “Hmm. Your squeaky voice tells me you may also have something to share. Which I promise to extract later using any means necessary. But you can relax. This confession’s all mine. My boss? He’s a pretentious ass and he’s not going to just let you in.”
“Are you sure you don’t just want me to—”
Ridley swung open his door before I could finish, slammed it, then ran around to my side of the truck. He reached in and I had no choice but to let him help me out.
“What I want,” he said. “Is to sneak a hot cowgirl into my kitchen where I can bake her into a pie.”
He threaded his fingers through mine, and thirty seconds later, he was dragging me through the staff entrance to the hotel. Every time someone walked by, Ridley covered my mouth and pulled me out of sight.
On the third time, I peeled his fingers from my face and narrowed my eyes at him.
“How, exactly, are you going to hide me once we’re in a kitchen full of people?”
He winked. “Just wait.”
He put his finger to his lips and guided me down one last hallway, past a lot of clanging and laughter, and stopped in front of a closed door.
“Go on in,” he prodded.
“It’s awfully quiet in there. Is this where you’re gonna off me?” I joked.
“Off you and then bake you into a pie,” he reminded me.
He unlocked the door and flipped on the lights.
It was a miniature commercial kitchen.
“Oh my God, Ridley. Is this like the Russian nesting dolls of kitchens? Once we get inside, are you going to lead me to another, smaller, door? And then that door will go to an even smalle
r door?”
Ridley chuckled. “Cute. But no. That boss of mine isn’t just a jackass. He’s a zealously protective jackass. This kitchen is the only place I’m allowed to make those strawberry thingies you’re so in love with.”
My eyes widened. “Seriously? A secret kitchen?”
“If you knew my boss, you wouldn’t be so surprised.”
“Oh, I’m not surprised. I’m just storing this info for later. In case you ever get on my bad side and I need to go to the press.”
“Hmm. Then I guess you don’t want to see how the magic happens?”
I knew I should leave. Or at least insist that we go somewhere more public. But when Ridley slipped on his white chef’s jacket and offered me an apron, I somehow found it impossible to say no.
***
Ridley handed me one of the little pastries from his first batch and I popped it into my mouth.
“How’s that taste?” he asked.
“Very…” I tipped my head to one side like I had to think about it.
“Delicious?” he filled in.
“Nope.”
“Tasty?”
“No, that’s not it.”
“Orgasmic?”
“Ridley! That’s inappropriate. And also not what I was thinking.”
“Fine. I give up.”
I smiled. “I think the perfect word is…Triangular.”
“Thank God I did it right. Wouldn’t want to have to take any more home with me.”
I reached down and grabbed one of the turnovers waiting to go into the oven and folded its corners in until it was a perfect square.
“That particular one may not work out,” I said, then picked up another and rolled it into ball. “Or that one.”
Ridley frowned. “You realize my boss counts those, right?”
My face reddened. “Crap. I’m sorry.”
“And he docks me a dollar for each one that’s missing. Or a whole day’s pay, if there’s more than ten unaccounted for. It took me a year to collect those ones I fed you yesterday morning.”
“That’s—” I cut myself off as I met his eyes, which were sparkling with amusement. “Dammit, Ridley. I thought you were being serious. Teasing me like that is just mean.”
