by Lisa N. Paul
Melted. A little piece of Lyla’s inner wall melted. How could it not? There was so much more to the man sitting across from her than physical beauty and blazing sexuality.
An older waitress with bottled red hair approached the table, her face lowered to her order pad. “Welcome to JP’s. Can I get your… oh, Gage, honey. So nice to see you. How’s Florence?”
After sliding out of the booth, Gage leaned down and hugged the woman. Lyla wasn’t jealous. Really, she wasn’t. After all, the waitress had to be in her late sixties. So the mild burning sensation simmering in Lyla’s gut was most likely hunger. Yep. Hunger.
“She’s okay, Penny.”
Even Lyla could tell that his words and his facial expression didn’t match, and she had no clue who either woman was. Gage’s answer didn’t seem to pacify Penny, if her pinched expression was any indicator.
“Look, it isn’t good,” he said. “We’ve known from the beginning there would be an end. It’s a lot closer now.”
Those words softened the older woman’s face. “Please tell her I was askin’ about her. I’ll have Jared drop off some lemon meringue pie later this week.”
Gage opened his mouth and immediately closed it before slipping back into the booth. The way he acquiesced with a smile made Lyla wonder if he’d had the battle over paying for the pie many times in the past and he’d learned to let the woman have her way.
“Well now, I couldn’t be more rude if I tried.” The woman extended her hand. “I’m Penny, the ‘P’ in JP’s diner. Well, my mother was Penny too, so I guess she was the original ‘P,’ and we both married men whose names began with ‘J.’” Penny leaned forward as if including Lyla in a secret. “I’m thinking my parents scouted out all the available men in town whose name began with ‘J’ and introduced them to me just so we could keep this diner going. But God rest their souls, they never did admit to it.” Her laugh was hardy, as if she deserved every second of happiness she got.
“I’m Lyla. A-a friend of Gage’s.”
“A friend, huh? Funny, other than Max, I’ve never met a friend of yours, Gage.”
Rubbing his hand over what had to be a few days’ worth of scruff, Gage cleared his throat. “All right Penny, I think we’re ready to order. I’ll have a cheeseburger and fries. I’m fine with water, please.” His sapphire eyes shifted to Lyla.
“Umm, I’ll have what he’s having, but can I get a malted milkshake please? Mint chocolate chip would be great.”
“A girl after my own heart,” Penny sang as she practically skipped away from the booth.
“A former girlfriend?” Lyla teased.
“Very funny. No, my grandparents were friends with Penny’s parents. They used to bring me here all the time when I was a kid. This place was kind of like a haven to me. You know… special occasions and bad days.”
Don’t ask. Don’t open that door. Just don’t… “Were there a lot of bad days?” Idiot!
Forearms resting on the table, Gage’s massive body leaned forward. “There were some pretty fucked up days. There were also great ones. These walls have seen and heard plenty. This place, the people who own it, mean a lot to me.”
He leaned back as Penny dropped off their drinks and promised the food was mere minutes behind it. She skittered away with a wink.
Lyla found herself interested, maybe even invested, in learning more about the man in front of her. The man who had whispered promises in her ear nearly two years before. You deserve a man who’s going to worship your body but also your heart, and I’m going to be that man. He’d said those words in Danny’s bar and disappeared before she could turn around to see his face. He was the same man who, that same night, had climbed into her car and stolen her breath in a kiss that she’d never been able to forget. Damaged back then, she’d wanted his body. Destroyed now, she craved his whole being. But she feared she had nothing to offer the multifaceted man who constantly surprised her with his depth.
“Where’d you go just now?” he asked.
“I was just thinking. You know, about this place, about Penny,” she lied. “Tell me about your grandparents.”
The food hit the table, and Gage smirked before reaching for a fry. “You eat, I’ll talk.”
Four words had never sounded so good.
Chapter Eleven
Anything For A Friend
DANNY’S ON MAIN was hopping when Lyla and Gage walked through the door. Her mind was satisfied with knowledge about Gage’s grandparents and how they’d raised and loved him his whole life, and her stomach was pleasantly full with what was, by far, the best burger and fries she had ever eaten. And the milkshake, my God, straight from heaven.
“You may want to school your expression, friend or people are gonna think you just got laid.”
The warmth of Gage’s breath in her ear made the fine hairs on her arms tingle. Images of Gage in her bed… damn, her body wanted to melt like ice cream. But that damn nickname… it was as if he used friend on purpose to douse her flames.
“Maybe the food at JP’s is better than sex. Ever think of that?”
“If that’s how you feel, I’ll go back to my original statement—you’ve been having sex with all the wrong men,” he gritted before curling his fingers around hers and leading them to the bar where their friends were already assembled.
***
WITH RYAN AND Ando behind the front bar, the local women were in rare form. Smiles flashed and cleavage plumped while phone numbers got tossed out as quickly as drinks were slung. The whole scene was chaos at its finest, and Sebastian loved bearing witness to it… from afar. Which was why he’d spent years in a corner, away from the madness. The ongoing joke between him and Max was that Sebastian could score as many women while tucked away from the crazy as his best friend could while front and center behind the bar. Sebastian knew the reason—there were two kinds of women. Those who reveled in attention, sought it out, and stood directly in the spotlight, and those who preferred their passion in the dark. The second kind would always spot him early in the night, stalk him like prey, delight in his broodiness, and pounce when the moment was right. Their game wasn’t as obvious, but it was still well-played.
And then there was Lyla. She went after no man. They flocked to her and she rejected them with grace unless they didn’t get the hint, then she turned into a viper. Except for those she selected. Just like him and his buddies, before they found their mates, Lyla had her weekly flavor. No apologies.
The night Sebastian first noticed her from his corner, things began to change. Sure, he still took home the dark-seekers, until their game no longer appealed. But Lyla hadn’t stopped. Her flavors just got bland.
“Ooo, did you two come together?” Cate squealed in their direction.
“Not yet, but they will,” Elliot murmured from her stool.
The woman’s comment caught Sebastian’s attention. Cate’s best friend was known to have somewhat of a sixth sense.
Releasing his hand, Lyla put a space between them he didn’t like one bit. “We arrived together, if that’s what you mean.” She embraced Cate before planting a kiss on her cheek.
It wasn’t until she stretched her taut frame over the bar to hug Kyle then Ando that Sebastian found himself clenching his jaw.
“Gonna crack your molars you keep that up,” Max said before lifting his glass to his mouth.
“Fuck, can’t stand the way that kid looks at her. Like he can save her. Heal her. Make her happy. Is he kidding? He’s twelve. What could he even know?” Sebastian couldn’t believe the thoughts forming in his mind, let alone slipping from his mouth. This wasn’t him. None of it.
He’d never known such possessiveness, such a burning desire to be the man who quenched someone’s needs. Not even with his fiancée. Yes, he’d cared about her, thought he loved her, but when they were over, he grieved his stupidity, not his loss.
With Lyla, it was different. He was different. It wasn’t about conquering her but considering her. She needed time to
learn to trust. He hated that because he would never give her a reason to doubt him, but her needs came first, so he needed to step back. Gently prodding her wouldn’t hurt either, given the hungry looks she shot his way every time their eyes met. That said, Ando had to go.
“Ando isn’t a problem, bro,” Max said as if reading Sebastian’s mind. “Dude, stop glaring at the kid—he doesn’t deserve it. By his age, your best friend had dumped you, your fiancée had used you, and your good-for-nothing mother had showed her true colors in a fashion that warranted you publicly disowning her. Even after all of that, I can say”—Max nodded in Ando’s direction—“that boy may just have you beat. Don’t judge him any harder than you want to be judged. It’s not cool, and it certainly ain’t you. Not to mention, while Ando thinks the world of Ly, I think he’s got something else going on outside of this place.” Max patted Sebastian’s arm. “Retract your biceps, big guy. It’s gonna be fine. Promise.”
“You may want to school your expression, Gage. People are gonna think you need to get laid.” Like a kitten, Lyla popped up seemingly out of nowhere with a drink and a sly grin just for him.
***
THE EVENING PASSED as they always did. Lyla’s friends recapped their week, told stories about their coworkers—which never failed to be hilarious when more than half the group worked together at the bar—and discussed plans for the upcoming weekend. All the while, the guys served drinks to the customers and dodged overzealous patrons who wanted more than just cocktails from the sextenders, as they were referred to.
Lyla laughed as she raised her shot glass. “If you guys wore Gstings and bow ties, you could triple your tips.”
“I don’t know about Ando, but if Ryan wore a G-string, there would absolutely be some tip showing,” Ashley interjected as she made her way behind the bar, hip-checking her fiancé.
Janie, Cate, and Elliot lifted their glasses as Lyla shouted, “To ties, tips, and… a big tip.”
A chorus of, “Ties and big tips,” echoed around her as the liquid ran down her throat, warming her insides and numbing the part of her brain that warned her that drinking too much vodka when Gage was her ride home was probably not a good idea.
Shaking his head, Ando inched his way toward the end third of the bar, chuckling. “No me creeri`as aunque te lo dijera.”
“I don’t know what you said, but it sounded sexy as hell.” Ashley batted her eyelashes in an overly dramatic fashion, making all the women giggle like schoolgirls and the men roll their eyes like jealous little boys. Lyla found the entire thing amusing.
“I said, you wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.” Ando wagged his brows before popping the cap on a bottle of beer and handing it to a customer.
“Bullshit. I don’t buy that for a second, Perez.” Ryan stared in Ando’s direction before turning his attention to Ashley. “You know he probably told you he has sex with donuts since no women want him.”
Janie snorted, making Max’s body visibly tense. “He is literally known as the Latin Lollipop, Ryan. I mean, look at him. Stop talking, or there will be donuts in your future.”
Lyla watched Max’s arm weave possessively around Janie’s waist. Clearly it was all fun and games until it was his woman ogling another man, even if it was nothing more than meaningless amusement. Lyla’s attention left Max’s sexy gesture when she heard Gage grumbling behind her. It was difficult to hear his low tone, but she assumed he was talking to Max since both men stood taller than everyone else around them.
“It’s gonna be fine, buddy. Promise.” Gage seemed to be mocking Max.
Obviously Max caught the vibe as well. “Fuck off, Gage.”
Lyla rolled her eyes. Men. Her focus shifted back to her girlfriends as she sipped on the cold Lemontini in her hand.
After rounds of drinks and hours of laughs, Lyla made her way to the restroom. After she’d washed her hands, she inspected her reflection in the mirror above the sink. While the eyes that looked back at her were the same ones she’d seen daily for nearly thirty years, she was definitely happier. Right? That was totally a happy face.
“Come on, Ly, you believe that, I’ll sell you the fountain of youth in the middle of the desert.” Words her poppy used to say, words she hadn’t given headspace to in many years. “Where the hell…” Had that thought come from?
God, she’d loved that man. She hadn’t had time to grieve for him or her grammy when they died. She hadn’t had time to miss them at all. So why now? Why, when she was trying to move forward, was her past trying to yank her back? First the attack in the alley, then the threat of her father’s release, and now memories of the man who had loved her to the moon for the first twelve years of her life.
She needed to get her hands back on the reins of her life before she lost control of everything, and she had some ideas on how to do it. She left the restroom with a plan in place.
“Anyone ever tell you that you could make a sinner out of a saint?” Gage’s voice hummed in her ear as his hand looped around her wrist, preventing her from heading back to the bar.
His scent filtered through her, and when she turned to look at him, his gaze held her captive—sexiness and male perfection focused solely on her. Sebastian cupped her scalp with his large hand before lowering his lips to hers. There, in the dimly lit hallway that connected the front and back bars, the man kissed her as if the fate of human existence depended on it. Hell, maybe it did. At least her existence did.
Even when she was on tiptoe, Gage towered over her petite frame. A problem he rectified by scooping his powerful arms under her denim-clad ass and lifting her until her legs encircled his torso. She felt her back hit the wall as his body pressed against hers. Heat, glorious heat, spread through her system, starting at her core and zinging outward to the tips of her fingers and toes. The word “friend” never crossed her mind.
“Mmm, so fucking good,” he whispered in her ear as his tongue flicked at the sensitive lobe.
Her body live wires, her mind mush, she moved her hand down the carved granite chest, ripped abs, and finally reached the front of his jeans. His quick intake of breath at her contact made Gage more beautiful than she had ever seen him. God, she wanted him, and by the looks of it, the feeling was mutual.
“How about you take me home, Gage? I’ve got some things I want to do to you.”
Thick black lashes framing burning blue irises snapped to hers. “You got it, sweetheart. You’ll be melting on my tongue, burning beneath me. Begging me to never let you go.”
Yes! was her body’s response. But once she was able to unstick her tongue, it wasn’t her body but her brain that answered. She swallowed hard and heard the sarcasm dripping from her tone as she said, “Sounds delicious. Glad you finally decided to get with the program and let me use the cuffs on you. I know you won’t be sorry.”
Ryan may as well have used the fucking soda gun on them for as fast as the heat drained from the moment.
Gage’s eyes went from fire to ash. Lowering Lyla’s feet to the floor, he put inches between them. “Not gonna happen. You don’t trust me, fine. I won’t hurt you, Lyla. Ever. ‘Till I see trust in your eyes, I won’t be in your bed.” His gaze burned into hers. “Fact is, you wouldn’t want me to be.”
***
SHIT. HE’D TAKEN a risk by kissing her, knew it before their lips ever met, but the way her body melted against his, combusting from mere touches… damn, there was no way he could be sorry for that interaction. Sebastian wanted Lyla Dalton. Not for an hour, a night, or a week. He couldn’t put a finger on what it was specifically that made him begin to fall for her. All he knew was she had caught him without realizing she had ever cast a line.
What did cause him unease were the emotions crossing Lyla’s expressive face. Embarrassment, shame, doubt. There were probably countless others he was missing, and he hated that he’d brought those to her surface.
“So… I’m gonna catch a different ride home.” Lyla flicked her hair over her shoulder and eased away from
the wall. “See ya later, Gage.”
“The hell you will.”
He was pleased to see the fire back in her eyes when she spun around to face him. “Listen here, you don’t own me. You don’t get to tell me what to do, where to go, or who to go with.”
That last part was a direct hit to the gut, but he refused to let her see the damage. Hands to his sides, Sebastian breathed deeply. “You’re right. I don’t own you. Never claimed to. But I promised you a ride tonight and what I’m trying—been trying—to explain is that I will always do right by you.” Another breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. “You’re angry with me—”
“I’m not angry,” she sputtered. “I’m… horny, and you and your righteous indignation just fucked up my night.”
The blush on her cheeks deepened to the point Sebastian thought to offer her a cool cloth, but he immediately thought better of it for the sake of his balls, which he knew might suffer at his suggestion.
“Sorry I fucked up your night, friend. Not exactly how I wanted it to go either. How about I get you another drink and then take you home? I’m sure you have ways of taking the edge off.” Shit, with that image planted in his mind, he’d be “taking the edge off” himself at least once before sleep found him.
Her lush lips pulled up into a half smile. “Nice, Gage. You’re planning my masturbation session.”
“Anything for a friend.”
Chapter Twelve
Lyla Bear
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LYLA bear,” Poppy and Grammy cheered as Lyla’s feet hit the linoleum floor in the kitchen.
“This is the very last birthday before you turn into a teenager,” Grammy exclaimed, clapping her hands together.
“Don’t remind the girl, Lilly.” Poppy chuckled before turning to face Lyla, love gleaming in his denim-colored eyes. “Your mother was my little angel until the teen years hit.” He whistled. “Then boy, oh boy, did she become a drama llama.”
