by Kelli Walker
I know that Lux is having second thoughts about having me work here in the first place, and any chance I give him to second-guess himself is going to be bad news for me. He doesn’t want me here. He knows that if Gavin caught a hint of what was going on in this place, and that I was a part of it, he would tear his best friend a new asshole.
But that isn’t my problem right now. If my brother wants to go fight on the other side of the world, then he’s going to have to deal with the fact that he doesn’t get a say in what I do while he’s gone. I know that he would hate this, but hell, if it makes us enough money to fix everything up at home, I’m sure that he would find some way to live with it. Maybe. If he really tries hard enough...
I push those thoughts to the back of my mind and focus instead on the shift in front of me. I have dressed a little more conservatively these last few days after Lux made it pretty damn clear that he isn’t going to let me keep working unless I’m dressed to cover at least most of my skin. I sulked for a little while, given that the other girls could pretty much wear whatever they wanted, but I know that he’s just being protective. Besides, some of the guys can get handsy after a few drinks, and they’re less likely to bother with me if I’m wearing something that covers me up.
Not that they would dare do anything with Lux watching from the bar, anyway. It’s the same as it was back in high school, back when my brother and Lux would be enough to scare off for good any guy who looked too hard at me. I knew that there was no way that anyone would risk getting their asses beat by Lux by laying a hand on me. He might run this place now, but his reputation as a Marine comes ahead of that, and everyone knows about it.
Jada, one of the girls who works at the bar, can’t help but comment on how much he watches me.
“You can see that, right?” she asks me, cocking her head in the direction of Lux, who is lurking over in the shadows and keeping an eye on me from afar.
“Yeah, I can,” I reply, not lifting my gaze to look up at him. I know that if I acknowledge him there, it’s going to be difficult to pretend that I don’t like the way it makes me feel when I can sense his eyes on me, and I don’t want to give that away.
“He doesn’t do that with any of the other girls,” she remarks. “Is something going on between you guys that I should know about?”
“No, nothing,” I reply, and she cocks an eyebrow at me, looking me up and down as though she is attempting to figure out something that I won’t come out and tell her.
“You sure about that?”
“Certain,” I reply. “It’s just that Lux knows my brother from back in the day. I guess he feels like he owes it to him to keep an eye on me.”
“Huh, right,” she agrees, but I can tell that she still has a few questions about what is going on between us right now. I smile at her, sweetly, and hope that she’s going to drop it. I know how quickly shit can spread in this town, and I don’t want anyone thinking that there is more going on there than there actually is.
“You just keep your eye on him,” she warns me. “I know what he’s like with women.”
“Oh, I know, too,” I assure her. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. Trust me.”
By the time I get home after my shift that night, I flop into bed and let out a sigh of relief. I swear, working at that place has been good for me, if only because it means that I don’t have the energy to stress about everything that’s going on with the house. I know that I should be a little more focused on what’s happening here, but with Lux to keep an eye on me at the bar, it’s nice to just detach for a little while and know that someone else is taking care of things for a while.
I still haven’t exactly told Mom where I’m working yet. Not because I’m ashamed of it, but because I know that she would tell my brother, and he would be on the first flight back here to kick my ass for taking a job that required me to shake it for tips. No matter how much money I am making, which is double what I might have from working at a grocery store), I know that he doesn’t want me working anywhere with liquored-up guys looking at me like I’m a piece of meat.
Maybe he’s got a point. I know that the reason it’s so easy to get the tips I need is because I flirt a little and because I can keep a smile on my face at their bad jokes. But I know, really, that it’s about the fact that they think they’re going to be able to get a piece of me. Because they’re hoping that they might be the one that I break the rules for. Because they think they actually stand a chance of getting me home with them, even though I’m not exactly in any rush to go home with anyone these days.
Not that I have been home with many men before this, to be fair. I mean, it takes quite something to get to my age and still be a virgin. Some people would call it self-control, but I just call it what it is: crippling self-doubt. I don’t want to have to slide between the sheets with someone I like for the first time and come clean about the fact that I’ve never done anything like this before. As the people around me grow up, so do their expectations. Fumbles in the back seat of cars won’t cut it anymore, and I know that I am still very much stuck at that stage of figuring out my sexuality.
Well, I know that I like men, that’s for sure. It’s not often I feel that short, sharp start of attraction, but when I do, I know that it’s everything I need. In fact, when I saw Lux again, I felt like I could feel it towards him if I tried hard enough, not that I am going to let that get under my skin, not for a moment. But I still haven’t worked out exactly what I’d like to do with a man who I’m attracted to. I know that I’m going to have to figure it out sooner rather than later if I’m going to find that husband that my momma keeps telling me that I need to lock down.
I stare at the ceiling in the dark, the bed I’m lying in empty but for me. It’s the same bedroom I’ve slept in all my life, and I know that it’s hardly the seductive, sexy boudoir that I would like to bring a man home to.
Maybe I just need to accept that that side of life isn’t for me. At least, not now. I have to focus on making sure that I fix up the roof and keep my mother safe and comfortable before I allow myself to go down any other paths in my mind.
But, as I lay there in my bed, I can’t help but imagine Lux’s eyes on me from the other side of the room. And I wish that I didn’t have to be here all alone. Because I would give anything to have him keeping me company right now.
Lux
I try to stay focused on the work in front of me, but it’s hard when I know what’s going on out there.
It’s the night of the big fight, so the place is packed full—more than just our regulars, people have come from all over the county to check in and watch it with their friends. Normally, I would be glad that the place was so busy, counting the cash that we were pulling in behind the bar with a smile on my face. Still, tonight, I can’t stop thinking about Vanessa.
I have ducked into the office for the time being, just to keep myself busy because I know that if I go out there, I’m going to have a hard time keeping my eyes off of her. This is a problem because I know that she’s going to be the center of the show tonight. Forget the fight. Whenever there is a new staff member, especially a pretty young thing like Vanessa, all the guys who hadn’t turned out in a while will be sure to let her know just how much they appreciate her showing up to serve them.
I have been able to soothe myself since she had arrived by focusing on keeping her safe. Doing what I am sure Gavin would have done for her in the same position. Nobody will get up in her face as long as they know that I’m around, and, sure enough, she hasn’t come under any scrutiny from the regulars. She smiles, she flirts, but that’s where it ends. And honestly, that’s a little too much for my liking.
I’m not sure what it is about her that has my mind reeling so helplessly out of control. The change I’ve seen in her since she arrived here is crazy. The difference I’ve seen since I knew her in high school is even wilder. She’s a whole-ass, grown-ass, sexy-ass woman now, and if I had run into her at a bar in my own right, I know that I w
ould have been trying every trick in the book to get her to come home with me. She has this smile that lights up a whole room, and I know that she’s already becoming one of the most popular girls in this whole place. She’s gorgeous, I can see that, but that doesn’t mean that I’m exactly happy with the thought of any of these random guys seeing it too.
And I know that it’s dangerous for me to be getting possessive over someone who works for me. I know that I should just explain to her that this isn’t working and that she needs to go because I can’t spend all my time hanging around and looking out for her. But I know that there’s no way that I can actually do that, because...because that would mean that I have to get rid of her. I’m not sure I’m ready for her to be out of my life so soon, especially after she just arrived in it again.
At the moment, I’m trying to crunch some numbers to figure out if we can upgrade our sports package and cover a few more of the big fights coming up in the next few months. I know that it might cost a lot, but it’ll pull in a whole new clientele, and I want to make sure that I have every base covered as long as I can. This is for my father, after all, and I feel like this place is my last connection to him. I’d do anything to keep it open. Anything at all. Even let the girl I can’t get out of my head parade around for other men.
No. I can’t think of Vanessa like that. She’s just doing her job, the job that I made possible for her. I can’t get pissed at that. I need to stay focused on what matters here, on the books that I’m pulling together, because making sure this place stays open is all that I should care about.
I crack open the door against my better judgment and peer outside. The place is as full as I expected it to be, and, in any other world, I would have been happy to see the place heaving with a whole new batch of people willing to part with their cash. The girls are working overtime behind the bar, all of them chatting with the new arrivals. I know that at least a few of them will be returning soon because they met a bartender that they particularly liked and want to see if they have a chance with her.
But there’s only one person I’m looking for, and it doesn’t take me long to find her. My eyes lock on Vanessa after a second. She's standing over by a table at the other end of the bar, a big smile on her face, chatting to someone while she is clearing away glasses. It’s some older guy, and he’s gazing at her like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life. Somehow, that’s worse than the creeps who stare at her ass. Because I can see a little of myself in that dude. And I don’t like it, not one little bit.
As she emerges around the bar, I see what she is wearing: denim shorts, a shirt tied around her midriff, and that same bikini top that she had worn the very first night that she worked here. And yes, she looks hot as hell, but that’s not what I want from her. And, as soon as she locks eyes with me, I see her face drop. She knows that I’m about to land her in a whole bunch of trouble. I jerk my head towards the office, and I see her shoulders slump as she plants down the tray she was carrying on the bar, and then comes over to deal with me.
“What is it?” she asks as she approaches the door, raising her voice loud enough so that I can hear her over the sound of everything else that’s going on. I take her arm and guide her into the office, and she crosses her arms over her chest and gives me a hard look.
“What’s going on?” she demands. “I need to help the other girls out there, it’s crazy right now, I don’t want to let them—”
“You need to go home and get changed,” I tell her. Her jaw drops.
“What are you talking about?”
“You heard me,” I reply. “You need to go home and get changed. I told you, you can’t dress like that here. We’re not that kind of place.”
“You let all the rest of the girls dress like this,” she protests. “I don’t see why I should have to give up my tips just because you’ve decided that I’m subject to rules that they’re not. It’s the busiest night of the season, I don’t want to miss out on the chance to make some money—”
“I’m paying you enough as it is,” I tell her. “You don’t need to strut around dressed like that on top of it.”
“Oh, really?” she replies, cocking her head to the side. “Are you willing to raise my wages to cover all the tips I’m missing out on because you won’t let me dress the way I want to?”
“I’m paying you enough,” I tell her firmly, and she snorts and shakes her head.
“I wish,” she replies. “I need to get that roof fixed, remember? I can’t wait around any longer than I already have.”
“And I told you, I would cover all of that for you if you’d let me,” I remind her.
“And I told you, Gavin would be even more pissed if he came back and found out that you had been taking care of us while he was away,” she points out. “You know how proud he is. He would never stand for that.”
I grimace. I know she has a point. And I know that I’m denying her the tips the rest of the girls can make when they dress however they want. But I can’t stand the thought of her walking around out there, in front of all those guys, knowing that they just want a piece of her...
“If you’re going to treat me like this, I don’t see the point of me working here at all,” she snaps back. “I should just go somewhere that doesn’t have one rule for me, and a different one for the rest of the staff.”
“Then go do it,” I tell her. She stares at me.
“What are you saying right now?”
“I’m saying that if you hate it so much here, you should go move on and find somewhere where you actually want to work,” I shoot back.
“Are you...?” she replies, and a furrow appears in her brow. “Are you firing me?”
“If you’re not going to listen to the rules that I lay down for you, then I don’t see why I should keep you around,” I reply, and I gesture to the outfit that she’s wearing. In the confines of the office, she seems even more exposed than she did out there. It’s distractingly difficult not to look at the generous line of cleavage that she’s showing off right now.
“You can’t fire me over this,” she protests. “You know it’s crazy.”
“I run this place,” I remind her. “I can fire you over anything I want.”
“You think this is how Gavin would have wanted you to treat me?” she fires back, and she takes a step closer to me, as though she’s damn well daring me to repeat it to her face.
“I don’t see Gavin anywhere around here,” I reply. “It’s just us.”
“It’s just us,” she agrees, and she glares at me for a moment. She is so close to me that I can smell the sweetness of her perfume, which is coming off her in waves. And I know, all at once, that she can feel it, too. She can feel whatever the hell has been between us all this time, and she is waiting for me, or for one of us, to make the move that we both need so badly.
“You need to go,” I tell her because I know that I’m not going to be able to hold out much longer with her standing right there in front of me. But then, instead of walking out the door, she closes it behind her. And, when she turns back to me, I can’t restrain myself any longer.
I’m not sure who kisses who first. But all that I’m sure of is that, a moment later, I have her pushed back against the door, and my tongue is buried in her mouth so deep that I’m not sure that I can ever stop.
Vanessa
As soon as our lips touch, all my doubts that I have been clinging onto seem to drop away. I know that this is wrong, but I know that I want it, too, more than anything in the world right now. And if Lux is going to fire me, then I’m at least going to get something out of this arrangement before I walk out that door, right?
He moves his mouth to my neck, tracing his tongue over my skin and making me moan. I can’t remember the last time someone kissed me like this, and it’s enough to make my knees feel like they’re going to buckle. Sometimes, I wondered if I could tell the difference between the act I put on for the men out there, and the real chemistry that I fel
t with someone I truly wanted. But, as he kisses me, I know that there is no comparison, no comparison at all.
His hands are hungry as he digs his fingers into my bare waist, and it is almost as though he is angry that it took so long for us to get here. I know how he feels. I want this the same way he does, even if I couldn’t put it into words before. I need to feel his body against mine, I need his touch, I need this so much that it makes my head spin. He tastes of whiskey, of the drink that he would have been working on in here before he called me in, and I can smell the gel in his hair, the sharp sweetness of his aftershave. I am trying to commit every part of this to my memory because I have no idea when one or both of us will come to our senses and realize that this could land us in a whole lot of trouble.
Before my mind can stray any further down that path, he pulls me away from the door, scoops me off the ground, and plants me down on his desk, sending a few papers tumbling to the floor around me. He kisses me again, harder this time, undoing my shirt and letting it fall to my side. His hands slide down my shoulders, over my arms, his fingers tracing every inch of me as though he can hardly believe that I am here, that I am his, that I would do anything right now to please him.
I can feel his hardness against the inside of my thigh, and it both thrills and terrifies me in equal measure. I don’t know what he wants from me, and I don’t know if I can give it to him if he...well, he doesn’t know that I’ve never done this before, and I’m not sure if I should stop this and tell him before I disappoint him completely.
But then, his hands move down to my shorts, and I forget about that for a moment. Every place that his fingers touch feels like he is leaving a line of need down my whole body. I am sure that his fingertips are burning into my skin. That's what it feels like to me, anyway, the pressure of his touch is something more than I can take. I need this. I want this. It makes me feel so alive, so alive in a way that I haven’t in such a long time. I can’t worry when his mouth is pressed against my neck. Nothing matters when I can feel his arms wrapped around me as he undoes the button of my shorts and begins to ease them down my body.
