by Beth Andrews
C.J. stepped toward her. “Anything you want from Kane,” he said, his voice a low growl, “you can get from me instead.”
She raised her eyebrows, her expression cunning. “I doubt that,” she purred. She trailed her hand up his chest. Gave his cheek a pat. “What I want from him is a job.”
C.J. blinked. Shook his head. “What?”
“He advertised for a bartender. I applied for the job, and you—” she gave him another pat, this one harder than the first “—are interrupting my job interview.” She turned to Kane. “Do you want me to come back?”
“I don’t mind finishing up now, if you don’t.” Kane stretched his arm across the back of his seat. “You can head on over to the bar, Junior. I’ll join you as soon as we’re done.”
Ivy sent C.J. a glance, but as he was still standing there like an idiot, she just lifted a shoulder. “Okay.” She retook her seat. “As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted, I have a bit of experience behind the bar, enough to cover the basics, but I’ve mostly waited on tables.”
Kane nodded. “I’ve already got enough waitresses. My future sister-in-law worked behind the bar but decided during her maternity leave she’d rather take interior design classes in Pittsburgh than come back to O’Riley’s.”
“I’m a quick learner,” Ivy told him, sounding desperate to work at Kane’s dive bar. “And I’m good with people.”
“Wait a minute. Wait a minute,” C.J. said, shoving Kane over so he could slide into the booth next to him. “I won’t stand here and listen to you beg this moron to hire you.”
“Then leave,” Ivy told him in a tone so sweet, it had to be fake. “Because I need this job.”
“You already have two jobs,” C.J. pointed out. “At Bradford House and King’s Crossing.”
“Yes, I do. But since I’m no longer employed at the River View—”
“What’s a River View?”
“The River View is a very nice family restaurant over on Rockland Avenue, where I used to waitress a few nights a week until I told the owners I was pregnant.”
“You work three jobs?” Why hadn’t he known that? Was this information in the private investigator’s report? What else would he have learned if he’d read it?
“I used to work three jobs,” she corrected. “Like I said, Mr. and Mrs. Mongillo didn’t like the idea of having an unwed, pregnant woman working for them, so they let me go.”
C.J.’s hands fisted. “They fired you? That can’t be legal.”
“Probably not,” she said as if it didn’t matter that her civil rights had been violated, “but it’s what happened.”
“You should sue them.” He took his phone out. “I’ll call Oakes—my brother. He’s an attorney. He can—”
“Simmer down there, cowboy,” she said, her tone amused, a smile playing on her lips. “I can’t afford an attorney and, honestly, have no desire to fight a legal battle. I’d much rather just find another job. Which is why I’m here.”
He didn’t know what to do with his phone. Settled for holding on to it. “But you already have two jobs.”
“Yes,” she said slowly as if he wasn’t all there, “that’s right. One job plus one job equals two jobs. Math’s not your strong suit, is it?”
“He would have failed it freshman year,” Kane said, feeling the need to put his two worthless cents in, “but our father stepped in. Donated a new gymnasium to the school and Junior here suddenly got a passing grade.”
“Junior,” C.J. repeated, his jaw tight, “studied his ass off for the final.” The seventy-five he’d gotten had been enough to save his ass. Though his father liked to take credit for it.
“I guess maybe adding isn’t something those Texas schools focus on?” Ivy said. “To make it crystal clear, yes, I work two jobs and will hopefully be adding another to that. As soon as I find a third one.”
“Why?” C.J. asked.
“Why what?”
“Why do you need a third job?”
“How else could I afford to buy all the pretty, sparkling things I love?” she asked.
Something wasn’t adding up—and it wasn’t because of his less-than-stellar math skills. “I gave you money. Fifty thousand dollars.”
Had she spent it already?
“I remember the amount.” Her shoulders stiff, her voice sharp, she glanced at Kane. “You really want to discuss how you paid me to take my pregnancy claims and get out of your life in front of your brother?”
He realized his mistake immediately, but it was too late.
Kane leaned back, a mean grin on his face. “Junior’s a chip off the ol’ block. That’s for sure.” He turned to Ivy. “If you still want the position, it’s yours.”
“She doesn’t,” C.J. ground out.
“She does,” Ivy said. “When do you want me to start?”
Before Kane could answer, C.J. got out of the booth, took a hold of her arm and pulled her to her feet. “I’ll be damned if you’ll work for my brother.”
She didn’t try to tug free. Just smirked at him. “Then I guess you’ll be damned because, in case it’s escaped your notice, I’m not your property. I’m not your wife. I’m not even your girlfriend. I’m just some random woman you slept with.”
“Who is carrying my child,” he reminded her. “That takes the randomness out of it.”
“Not really. What do you think is going to happen here, Clinton? Do you think that I’m going to suddenly roll over and do everything you want? Because I’m not. That’s not how I’m made. I’m going to continue living and working here in Shady Grove while you go back to Houston and your regular life. Back to your fancy position at your father’s company, back to your heiresses and country-club dates and fund-raisers and black-tie events. And I’ll be here, raising my child and probably waiting on people just like you.”
Her words hit him like sharp jabs and he let go of her. He hadn’t thought it through, he realized. And now he had to wonder if she was right. His life was in Houston. Hers was here. That wasn’t going to change because the baby was his. He wondered, though, if it should.
“I’ll take care of you and the baby,” he told her. “I’ve got the means to make sure you never have to work again.”
“How nice for you,” she said drily. “But while I appreciate you wanting to support your child, and I’ll definitely take you up on that offer, I take care of myself. Always have.”
Because she’d never been able to count on anyone to take care of her? If so, he wanted to change that. Wanted to be the one to prove to her there were still people who kept their word. People she could count on.
He edged closer. Lowered his voice. “You can count on me, Ivy. I’m not going to leave you out to dry.”
Something flashed in her eyes, something that looked like hope, but then the cynical glint he was so used to returned and she shook her head. “Who are you kidding? You’re not going to stick. This is just one more thing on your to-do list. I have no desire to be one of the many, many people you take care of.”
Damn it, he was sticking. Why couldn’t she see that? He’d thought they were getting closer, that she was finally letting him in, opening up to him the way she had at her apartment last night. If she’d needed help, she should have come to him. Instead, she tossed his offer back in his face, refusing to believe he wasn’t going to abandon her or their child.
Instead of turning to him, she’d gone to his brother.
It stung. More than it should have. Somehow, he’d given her the power to hurt him.
And wasn’t that what this whole episode was about? Power. Control. This was Ivy’s method of pushing him away.
Kane joined them, seeming to enjoy C.J.’s pain and suffering way too much. “I have some paperwork you need to fill out,” Kane said. “In my office.”
“Lead the way.” She turned back to C.J. “See you later, cowboy.”
The hell she would. They weren’t finished. Not by a long shot. Kane brushed past C.J., heading toward a set of swin
ging doors behind the bar. Before Ivy could follow him, C.J. snatched her wrist and pulled her through the first door he came to.
That it was the men’s room and possibly not the best choice didn’t occur to him until he’d slammed the door shut behind them and locked it.
Too late to go back now.
Ignoring the three urinals lined up against the wall, he widened his stance in front of the door and crossed his arms. “Now. Let’s talk about this.”
* * *
“YOU MUST BE wearing your cowboy hat too tight,” Ivy said as she gaped at Clinton. “Because you have done some serious damage to that brain of yours.”
He didn’t look mentally deranged, she had to admit. He looked...well...hot was the only word to describe it. He was all glowering and broad-shouldered and sexy as he blocked her path to the door. The door he’d locked.
Okay, maybe she was the mentally deranged one for finding it sexy that he was taking control like this. She wasn’t afraid of him. She knew he’d never hurt her, but she had to admit having him all alpha male was sexy.
Except for the part where he dragged her into the men’s room, of course. That part was just disgusting.
“You are not working for my brother,” he said as that brother pounded on the door.
“Damn it, Junior,” Kane called. “Open the door.”
But Clinton didn’t even glance back, just kept advancing on her as if he was some well-groomed lion and she one of those baby gazelles or whatever it was lions stalked in the savanna. “I don’t know how the hell Kane convinced Charlotte to marry him,” Clinton muttered.
Ivy couldn’t help it. She laughed. “Yes, that’s a toughie. Let’s see, your brother is extremely good-looking, completely sexy and has that dangerous, bad-boy vibe girls—especially good girls like Charlotte—can’t resist. It truly is a mystery.”
Clinton went still, his eyes narrowed. “You think Kane’s good-looking?”
“Have I gone blind? Of course I do.” She gestured to the door where the knocking had stopped. “The man is a walking fantasy.”
“He’s an ass,” Clinton spit out. “He’s irresponsible and cocky and needs a goddamn haircut.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re jealous.”
The idea was completely crazy and absolutely wonderful.
“I’ve never been jealous of Kane, not once in my life.” But he frowned thoughtfully, as if considering her words and his own. “All my life I’ve heard about how wild he was, how dangerous, how magnetic. That go-to-hell attitude and the huge chip on his shoulder has attracted women to him his entire life, but it never mattered to me because any girl I wanted wasn’t interested in him. But now, hearing you say that...” He shook his head. Lowered his voice. “It kills me, Ivy.”
She blinked. Holy cow. She’d been right. Which wasn’t all that horrible, but she’d also hurt him. She hadn’t meant to, hadn’t realized she had the power to, but seeing his reaction... Well, she didn’t like knowing she could make him feel bad.
Liar, her inner voice whispered. She’d known what she was doing by coming to Kane. Knew it would upset Clinton. Wasn’t that part of the reason she’d done it? To let him know, in no uncertain terms, that she was going to do what she pleased, whether he liked it or not?
“Kane is sexy, and he’s exactly the type of guy I’ve avoided most of my life,” she admitted. “Men like that, they’re heartbreak waiting to happen.”
Clinton edged closer, his voice a whisper. “And men like me?”
Men like him? There was no other man like him. Not to her. She’d never had this much of an attraction to a man last this long, never had it grow. “You’re the most dangerous of all,” she heard herself admit.
“I won’t hurt you, Ivy.” He touched her hair, his fingers trailing along her jawbone and down the side of her neck. “I would never take the baby from you.”
“You would,” she said, “if you thought I wasn’t a suitable mother, and honestly, I may not be. At least by your definition.”
And that was the rub. If she did something he didn’t like, if she acted in a way he deemed unacceptable, he’d swoop in with his team of high-priced attorneys.
“You’re never going to give me a real chance, are you?” he asked quietly.
She couldn’t. It was too dangerous. There was too much at stake. Her child. Her heart.
“If you need help, financial or otherwise,” he said, his voice all growly, his brows lowered, “you will come to me.”
“First of all, Junior,” she said, realizing she was backing up and she couldn’t do that. She had to stand her ground. “You are not the boss of me.” And, dear Lord, was that the sort of attitude she was going to have to put up with from her own kid someday? Worse, did she have to resort to acting like a teenager, just because she was out of sorts? “I do what I please. I would have thought you would have figured that out by now.”
“I’ve figured out that you’re incredibly stubborn,” he said. “That you’re so worried about someone taking advantage of you that you don’t trust anyone.”
The words stung. Possibly because they were close to the truth. “I trust people who have earned it. You are not on that list.”
“What do I have to do to get on it?” he asked, frustration clear in his tone. “What, Ivy? I’ve apologized for my reaction when you told me you were pregnant. It was just that—a reaction. I’m here, trying to get to know you, trying to work with you so we can come up with an agreement, some sort of relationship that works for the baby and for both of us, but you insist on throwing my mistakes in my face, pushing me away in every way you can.”
She went still because he was right, but she was too scared to admit it. Too scared to change. “We don’t need to have a relationship of any sort as far as I’m concerned.”
“Because you don’t want me to have anything to do with this baby. You want me to be some asshole who’s more than willing to just throw some money your way and leave you and the baby alone.” He looked and sounded frustrated, his mouth a thin line, his shoulders rigid. “But that’s not going to happen. I’m not going to walk away from my own child.”
But when he was tired of her, when he was done with her, he’d walk away from her. And she couldn’t risk getting close to a man, couldn’t risk giving him that much power over her. The power to break her heart.
“If you didn’t trust me to be a part of the baby’s life,” he asked, “if you didn’t want money, why did you tell me about the baby in the first place?”
“Because I didn’t want my child to grow up like I did, wondering who I came from, who my father is,” she admitted starkly. “I don’t even know his name. My mother refused to tell me. I was a mistake, something that ruined her life, took away all her choices, all her chances.”
“That’s bullshit,” Clinton snapped.
Ivy nodded. “I know that, but she had all the power. While I’m left wondering what happened between her and my father. Was he an asshole? Did she love him? Did he love her? What would he do if I found him now? I didn’t want my child to grow up with those questions. Good or bad, it will be better for the baby to know the truth.”
“Admit it,” Clinton said softly, “part of you wanted me to brush you off. That way, you wouldn’t have to deal with me and you could go on being completely independent and running things all on your own. Part of you hoped I’d want nothing to do with you or the baby.”
“You’re right. Can you blame me? We didn’t know each other. I told you because it was the right thing to do, but yes, I’d hoped you’d want nothing to do with us. That I could come back to Shady Grove knowing I’d done my best, that I’d done the right thing and leave it at that.”
She wasn’t proud of herself, but she couldn’t apologize for it. Couldn’t show any weakness.
Though she wished she could.
“Sometimes,” he said, “I wonder why I even bother.”
She winced, his quiet words feeling like a slap to the face. She wanted to sa
y something but wasn’t sure what.
The door opened and Kane walked in, casual as you please, a key in one hand, papers in the other. He glanced between them. “You okay?” he asked Ivy.
Clinton’s lip curled, but he didn’t say anything, just watched her.
“I’m fine. Your brother and I just had a few things to discuss.”
“Well, now you’ve had your discussion,” Kane said, crossing to them. “I got the papers. You can fill them out now or at home and bring them back when you start. I’ll need you here Monday night by six.”
She felt Clinton watching her, waiting for her to make her choice, for her to say she’d changed her mind, that she didn’t want the job, after all. That she trusted him to help her. To be there for her. To take care of her and the baby.
But she needed to take care of herself. Couldn’t count on anyone else to do so for her.
So she nodded at Kane and held her hand out for the forms. “I’ll fill them out now, and I’ll be here tomorrow night.”
Clinton’s expression went stony, then he turned on his heel and walked out.
Leaving Ivy to wish she could call him back.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
FRIDAY NIGHT GRACIE was on the couch at Luke’s sister’s house, a tidy one-story ranch on the outskirts of town with high ceilings and a huge yard that looked into the woods. The TV was on, some show about people doing an obstacle course for superheroes or ninjas or something.
Luke came in from the hallway, his shirt wrinkled.
She smiled. “Rough time?”
They’d tried putting his nieces to bed together, but the girls had wanted Gracie to play with them some more. So they’d had to pretend that Gracie had left before Luke could get them settled down.
He flopped onto the couch next to her with such force, she actually bounced. He leaned his head against the back. “I thought I was going to have to drug their milk or something.”
“They’re just excited to have you hanging out with them.”
He snorted. Sent her a lazy grin that made her heart skip a beat. “They couldn’t care less about me with you being here. At least they didn’t act like little monsters.”
