by Marie Harte
“No reason?” Sam thumbed at Heller. “Some psycho is staring at Rena like he wants to eat her.”
At that, Lou started laughing. “Oh, I’m sure he’d like to eat her.”
“Not funny, Lou Cortez.” Rena slapped her hands on her hips. “Clean up your mind, you big jerk.”
“Sorry, Rena,” Lou apologized, sounding sincere, though a grin remained. “It’s just…your expression.”
To Sam’s surprise, Heller seemed discomfited. “I am sorry…Rena.” He paused, his German accent thick over her name. “I would just like a beer, please.”
“At least someone has manners.” She excluded Heller from her narrow-eyed stare. “Well, and Sam.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey.” Foley made a sad face. “I agree Lou was rude. But I was laughing at some other joke, not at you. Gosh, I think Heller is just swell. Such a great guy.” His obvious insincerity made Sam want to laugh. “The only thing we’re eating here are wings. Like chicken parts, not lady parts.”
“Oh, stuff it.” She bit her lip to keep from smiling, Sam could tell. “Not buying it at all, Foley.” She flounced away, muttering, “I’d better get one big-ass tip.”
Heller watched until she disappeared behind the bar. Then he turned to the guys, frowning. “Don’t fuck with her.”
Sam blinked. “Us? Buddy, we’ve known Rena for years. You screw with her, we won’t be the only ones handing you your ass. The whole bar will.” Everyone loved Rena. So sweet and cute, but with a mouth and attitude that could cut you down right quick. “Look around.”
Heller did. Earl, one of the bouncers, glared at their table. A few of the regulars around stared as well, their attention not on Sam and the guys, but on Heller, the newbie.
“Ah. I see.” Heller nodded and sat. “I apologize.”
Sam glanced at Lou.
Lou shrugged and sat as well. “So, Heller, you any good at darts?”
“Ja.”
Sam and Foley leaned closer. “How good?”
“I have not been beaten since coming to this country.”
“When was that exactly?” Foley asked, sizing the guy up.
“Ah, let’s see.” Heller frowned, and had Sam not known the guy, he’d have gone for a gun. Heller was one mean-looking motherfucker. “I was born here, but then we went back to München.”
“Munich,” Lou translated. “Home of Oktoberfest.”
“And beer. Nice.” Foley nodded, approving.
“So fifteen years in München, then seventeen here.” Heller nodded.
Rena returned with beer and a plate of cookies. She must have liked the guy, because she hadn’t given them any of Lara’s treats. “For you, because you’ve been nice.”
Heller flushed. “Danke. Ah, thank you. And I’m sorry if I startled you. It’s just…your hair is like…” He said something in German. The guy had balls, because he was straight-up flirting with Rena in front of all of them, three big dudes who’d threatened to castrate him if he messed with her.
Rena studied him. And she seemed different. Sam couldn’t peg the strange look on her face. “What did you say?”
“Your hair is like sunbeams. Golden and ethereal.” Heller smiled.
Sam wanted to run for the hills because that wolf had some damn big teeth.
Rena sighed. “Th-thanks. The beer and cookies are on the house.” She smiled back. Then she slapped Foley in the back of the head. “You, be nice.”
“Hey.” Foley rubbed his head. “It’s like everyone who’s a Webster is hitting me lately.”
Del had knocked him earlier before leaving for the day.
“Welcome to my world,” Sam muttered.
Rena faced Heller. “Bye, um, what’s your name?”
“Axel.” He took a sip of beer, never blinking as he watched her. “Good stuff.”
She smiled, flashing her dimples, and left with a bounce in her step.
Heller ignored them all and ate the cookies, without offering one, the bastard. “The beer tastes like piss, but these are amazing.”
Lou nodded. “Lara, Johnny’s girlfriend, made them.”
“I thought he was her fiancé,” Foley said.
Lou shrugged. “Did he ask her? Thought he didn’t have the stones.”
“He asked.” Sam nodded. “She’s making him work for a yes. Smart girl.” Like Ivy. A nice woman who saw something in a man with a checkered past. If Johnny could land Lara, Sam had even more hope that he might be able to keep Ivy.
He poured himself another beer, determined to do whatever he had to in order to make that happen. Which meant showing Ivy what she’d be missing if she threw him to the curb.
Lou sneered. “He’s smiling again. God, this shit needs to stop. He’s freaking me out.”
Foley laughed. “He’s freaking you out? What about the mountain sitting next to you? ’Cause he’s freaking me out. Yo, Axel.”
“To you, it is Heller.”
Sam hoped Foley knew not to push. He could tell Heller was not someone to mess with when riled. And in his good mood, Sam had no urge to mess up his own pretty face before Ivy saw him again.
“Heller,” Foley corrected without missing a beat. “What’s with all the staring at our girl Rena?”
Heller frowned. Not good. “Your girl?”
“Not mine, exactly. I mean, I have a woman. Sam and Johnny do too. Not Lou, though.”
Heller turned to Lou so fast it startled him.
“No way, man. I value my life.” Lou shook his head. “She’s amazing, but you screw with Rena, you deal with the Websters. You know Del and Liam. J.T., though, he’s not someone to fuck with.”
Heller frowned. “Ah. Yes. J.T.”
Sam and Foley exchanged a glance, and Sam asked, “J.T., a threat?”
Foley chuckled.
Sam was confused.
Lou nodded. “He works with Heller a lot. Pissing him off wouldn’t be pretty. You know, the temperamental artist type.”
“Oh. For a minute there I thought you were scared he’d pound you or something,” Foley scoffed.
Heller blinked, then gave a smile that wasn’t scary at all. Hell, best not to let Ivy meet the guy until Sam had a lock on her. “J.T. Webster? Scary?” He started laughing. Of course, a guy his size wouldn’t worry about a six-foot-four tattoo artist who had Liam for a dad and Del as a sister. Sam had wondered a time or two what J.T. would be like in a real fight. But then he’d remember J.T.’s easygoing nature and aversion to messing up his pretty face. Guy spent more time with a different piece of tail every other night than even Johnny used to get. Nah, J.T. would never fight when he could find a pretty lady instead.
Not that Sam thought that a bad thing, necessarily. But he’d much rather have Foley or Lou at his back, even Johnny, than J.T.
“He sure can draw though,” Sam said.
They all joined in teasing the guy who wasn’t there to defend himself. Sam would make sure to mention he’d stuck up for him before he got J.T. to do his next tattoo.
“J.T.” Heller shook his head and drained his beer like it was water. “He’s a lover, not a fighter. Besides, I need his hands not bruised. He’s too valuable.” Heller turned his gaze on Sam and Sam’s hands. “Not like you. I hear you’re the man to beat in a fight. Particularly when Jerry pays to play.”
Around them, the guys stilled. Even Lou, so Sam knew the bastard was aware of what went down at the House. He glanced at Foley, saw his concern, and sighed. “Nah. I’m retired. My woman wouldn’t like me fighting.” My woman. Just saying that gave him a secret thrill.
Heller considered him for a moment, then nodded. “Ja. This is a good thing. Especially since the polizei visited and closed the place down.”
“Damn.” Sam figured he’d dodged a major bullet there.
Foley gave him a lo
ok. “Told you.”
Heller continued, “Love is a much better way to live.” He left the table and headed to the bar or, more specifically, to Rena. He returned minutes later with a fresh plate of cookies and a large smile. “On the house.”
The guy’s accent must have ensnared Rena. He’d heard women went for foreign dudes. Sam grabbed his share while the guys grabbed theirs. As he enjoyed the treat, his thoughts once again shifted to Ivy. Would she make him cookies if he asked? Would she let him help? They could get covered in flour, maybe some cookie dough, then have to get clean. Together.
He drank more beer and willed away his erection, not wanting the guys to have more ammo to fire his way the next day. As he chilled, he made plans for his girl.
Time to step up his powers of seduction and see if sexy Ivy could handle him. Because Sam had skills she hadn’t yet seen. And damn, but he was hungry…
Chapter 13
Ivy wished Cookie would get better at doing his business or, rather, faster. But no, the puppy had to sniff everything before peeing on it. How he could have so much in that tiny bladder still amazed her. She glanced around the park and noted the setting sun.
“Come on, sweetie. Time to go back and get ready for Sam.”
Though their big date in Bainbridge wasn’t until tomorrow, he’d asked to see her tonight. She hated to admit it, but she needed the confidence boost. She knew how important Eileen was to Sam, and Ivy liked everything she knew about the woman. What if Ivy didn’t meet Eileen’s approval? In the four years she’d been with Max, she’d never met his mother, because Max’s family lived out East, and they hadn’t had the money to fly both of them home for the holidays.
Her only access to parents had been her own, and they hadn’t liked her much, let alone loved her. What if Eileen felt the same about Ivy? Despite Ivy’s work ethic, smarts, and compassion, she apparently lacked something vital. Her exes and her parents had sensed the deficiency. Sam didn’t yet, but she figured that was okay. But not if Eileen recognized it in her and put the kibosh on her new relationship.
Ivy had hoped she and Sam could enjoy each other before she scared him away. Maybe if she had more time to show him her value, he’d ignore her issues. She kept trying to take it slow, but her heart kept prodding her mind to wake up. Sam was much more than a friend. He had the potential to be someone special in her life. Yet reality told her he’d eventually go, like everyone else had. Still, she’d at least have shared in his warmth for a time. If anything, he’d woken her to the fact she still had a libido, as well as a desire for companionship.
She’d wanted to call him to go out Monday, but she knew they didn’t need to spend every waking moment together. Thank goodness he’d asked to see her tonight, because she’d almost texted him first.
I am so pathetic.
She should have been more anxious about her fixation on the man, but excitement over seeing him overwhelmed caution. No sense in wallowing in the negative when she had a hot man on the way. Ivy smiled, played with Cookie some, then urged him away from the park back home.
She had Cookie tuckered out on the floor by the fire by the time Sam arrived. As usual, Seattle had decided to interrupt spring with a light snowfall, despite the prior day’s record-breaking warmth. But the strange temperatures didn’t bother Cookie. Ah, to be a happy-go-lucky dog.
She stroked him, loving his sighs of comfort. How right—and big—he looked in her home.
Every time she looked away, then back at him, the little guy seemed larger. He sure ate a lot. She wished she could go for the fancy, gluten-free, everything-bad-free food, but she could only afford basic puppy chow. He didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he tended to eat anything not nailed down.
A knock at the door distracted her and woke the snoozing puppy. She stroked him between his ears, and he settled, blinking sleepy eyes. Then she hurried to the door. Peering through the peephole, she saw her favorite tough guy and those sexy tattoos. Remembering how she’d kissed each one last time, she did her best to calm her racing heart before opening the door.
Before he could say anything, she hauled him inside and locked up after him.
“Well, nice to see you too.”
“Shh.”
He stared her up and down but lowered his voice. “What’s up?”
She nodded at Cookie, who wobbled over to Sam while yawning. “He’s about to go back to sleep.”
“Oh.” Sam knelt to accept doggie kisses, then carried Cookie to his bed by the fire. “Hey, handsome.” He caught one of Cookie’s paws and shook his head. “You do realize he’s going to be huge.”
“Like someone else we know, eh?”
He stood, and she had to look up to meet his gaze.
He smirked. “What can I say? I’m a growing boy.” He just watched her, no doubt waiting for her to jump on that phrase.
She refused. He could take his dirty thoughts—and hers—and sit on them. Because she feared if she said anything racy, she’d be tempted to act on her desire. He’d already set the pace, wanting them to be friendly without being too friendly. And the smart part of her agreed. It was nice to be wanted—as a person, not just someone to scratch an itch.
She cleared her throat. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Sam Hamilton?”
He gave her a warm smile. “You know, you remind me of Willie. She always calls me by my full name. Weird, but that’s Willie.”
“Thanks a lot.”
He chuckled. “Willie says hi, by the way. I’m supposed to bring you by when I can, so she can ask you a bunch of questions.”
“About Cookie?”
“And me, I’m guessing. Woman considers herself a matchmaker.” He looked pained. “She’s hooked up all her single friends, and now a bunch of geriatrics are bumping and grinding in the neighborhood. I’m not even going there about her and Rupert and their swing.”
She rubbed her eyes. “I think I’m blinded. I can’t stop remembering pictures of Rupert and Willie in that contraption.”
“I’m glad I didn’t see it. Imagining it is bad enough.”
Well, at least she no longer had an urge to jump Sam, even if he did look lickable. He wore his trademark jeans and biker boots. Tonight he wore an AC/DC T-shirt that must have been a size too small, because it clung to his upper body like it had been painted on him. Oy. A woman would have to be made of stone not to appreciate such fine art.
She cleared her throat and stepped toward the kitchen. “So this date tonight is about cookies—not the dog, but the actual chocolate chip kind. This wouldn’t have anything to do with Lara’s cookies, would it?” A niggle of jealousy lingered. Darn it.
He sighed. “I can’t help it. The guys and I went to Ray’s last night, and I got a hankering. Unfortunately, Lara’s dating an asshole who refuses to let her make us any unless we’re nice to him.” He looked as if he’d swallowed a lemon. “I just can’t do it.”
She chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds terrible.”
“It is. So, ah, can I kiss you hello?”
She nodded. “I—”
He took her in his arms and kissed the breath out of her, cutting off any semblance of thought. When he finally came up for air, he said, “Oh yeah. I’ve been dying to do that since Sunday.”
“H-how nice.” She took a few deep breaths to get back on an even keel. “Look, since we both know I can’t compete with Lara’s chocolate chip recipe, how about we make some killer peanut butter ones instead?”
The true test—how did Sam feel about peanut butter? A food so important she added it to each food group as a must-have?
“Oh man. Peanut butter is my favorite.”
Of course it was.
Could Sam be any more perfect for her?
You just met the guy. Slow down, desperate Ivy! So sad how often she had to remind herself to ease back around this man.
> “Ah, is that a problem?”
“No. It’s my favorite too.” She glared at him. “Do you do it on purpose? Pretend to like the same things I do?”
“You’re cute when you’re all cynical.” He gave a small smile. “Go on, swear at me while you’re at it. Say damn or shit. How about a hell?”
“Shush.” She tried to scowl and ended up smiling instead. Sam in a good mood was impossible to resist. Of course, Sam in a bad mood turned her on too, so she was in a lose-lose situation any way she looked at it. “Okay, buddy. I’ll make you some killer peanut butter cookies, but you can’t swear for the rest of the night. That’s the deal.”
“Damn. I mean, darn. Seriously?”
“Yes.” She crossed her arms, hiding her erect nipples, playing hardball.
“I do it at work every day. I can do it here too.” He shrugged. “Fine. But those cookies better be worth my time.”
“You are such a pain.”
“In the… Fill in the blank. I’m a pain in the…” He waited, but she didn’t answer. “I can’t curse, but you can.”
“You have a lot of teeth when you smile, do you know that?”
He nodded. “Willie says I look serial-killer happy when I’m trying to show I’m nonthreatening happy. She’s been working with me on that.”
She laughed. “Um, yeah. Because she’s your go-to when it comes to seducing women?”
“Not all women. Just you.” He winked.
She wished she could believe him. But Sunday night she’d been all hot and bothered for nothing. And I should be grateful he wanted to act the gentleman. She swallowed a sigh and got out the ingredients for cookies. “It doesn’t take much. Grab the peanut butter.”
“Wait. What?”
“Good point. First, wash your hands.”
“Hold on. Are we making these together?”
“No. I’m going to do all the work while you watch.”
He nodded.
“I’m kidding, Sam.” She did sigh then. “Get that cute butt over here and help.”
