Rose
Jewels Cafe
Jewels Arthur
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 by Jewels Arthur
Rose
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, address: [email protected].
Book design by: Josie Cluney
Editing/Proofreading by: A Little Ray of Pitch Black & Bookish Dreams Editing
Formatting by: Inked Imagination
Published by Jewels Arthur
ISBN 9781673720563 (paperback)
ASIN B07YCT25BP (ebook)
To Kyle and Charlotte, I love you both. Always. Bamboo over.
To my Jewels Café girls, you rock and I am privileged to work with you all.
To Mia and Eva, thanks for letting me into your cool kids’ club. Your friendship is invaluable and I look forward to continuing to work with you both for years to come.
To my grandma, I love you Grandma Jane. Don’t judge your innocent granddaughter for her dirty mind.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
If you liked Rose, you’ll enjoy these other Jewels Cafe books:
Chapter 1
About the Author
Rose
My feet ache as I walk in my kitten heels down the cobblestone street. Whoever decided kitten heels was an apt name for these satanic foot prisons is fucking dumb. Kittens are cute and cuddly, they don’t help torture your feet. Rule number eleven in Rose’s book of plus-sized girl rules, don’t wear heels. There’s something about weight distribution and my cankles that means I can’t wear heels. It seems like a good idea when I leave the house, but I’m always five feet outside my door when I realize it was a stupid fucking idea.
The only reason I put them on was to impress the sexy guys at my job. I work all night as a bartender at the local bar called Vee. It’s a really hip scene that is a nightclub-bar mix. It’s pretty exclusive, and it doesn’t hurt that the three owners are hot as sin. I know they are totally out of my league, but I figure what’s the harm in trying? I mean, the harm to my feet is pretty real right now, but I can deal with it if it means I get a second glance from them. It also doesn’t hurt in the tip department. I was honestly surprised when they hired me almost two years ago, you just don’t see a lot of plus-sized women bartenders. My ass is not hopping up on the bar to dance and I’m not your typical Daisy Dukes wearing, stick-thin blonde. I’m very full-figured with auburn hair. I love coffee, cheesecake, and Coca Cola. I’ve tried all the fad diets, dragged my ass to the gym, decided to only eat salad, and failed at them all. What can I say? Cheesecake is delicious and water tastes like spit. Bring on the sugar and calories, because I’ve accepted that this is me.
I used to find the darkness of the city frightening, but I’ve since learned that Silver Springs is a pretty harmless town. It’s a lot like Stars Hollow on Gilmore Girls. Peaceful. I find comfort in the dark, it’s like a warm blanket. Nights are for fun and spontaneity. They are for getting drunk, hooking up with strangers, and sweatiness. Sweatiness is erotic at night. It’s from dancing the night away and sex. Sweating during the day just isn’t as attractive. The morning is the enemy—walk of shames, hangovers, and blisters. That’s what the morning brings.
As I near Vee, I can already see the crowd gathering around outside under the red, illuminated sign showing the club’s name. The doors will open soon, and the youth of the town are already gearing up for another night of partying, even if it is the day after Christmas.
“Hey, Rosie,” a deep voice greets me in the night. I look up to see Reggie, Vee’s bouncer, manning the door. I smile at him, but also squint my eyes in accusation.
“You know I hate being called Rosie, Reg. It’s a kid’s name.”
“Okay, okay. Rosalie. I just like the ring of it, Rosie and Reggie,” he singsongs, winking at me as he adjusts his pants, bringing my eyes to how tight his clothes are tonight. His black shirt and pants display his muscles in a way that will intimidate most of the crowd as they await entrance. Reg is the perfect bouncer because he’s overall a nice and jokey guy, until he isn’t. Then, he’s kicking your ass to the curb. Reggie is nice but also a little intense. I appreciate the attention, I honestly do—bigger girls don’t get as many wolf whistles as our skinny sisters—but his crush on me is overbearing, and although I don’t find him unattractive, he’s just not my type.
“In your dreams, Reg.” I laugh as I walk past him and into the club. The room is bright with the overhead lights on as the staff shuffles around, preparing for another night of chaos. I walk up to the beautiful black wood bar and graze my fingers against the smooth surface. I love this place so much. I never thought I would enjoy being a bartender, but this club just makes me happy. Between the people that work here and the atmosphere, I fell in love. I gaze around the room that looks so different with the lights on, and take in the baroque red walls, the small, corner booths with black suede seats and blood-red curtains made for those who want some privacy, and then the spacious dance floor that comes alive at night. The feel is somehow modern, but also has a classic atmosphere. I adjust my cleavage in my skintight, pink and black spaghetti strap dress, and tug at the bottom to make sure my butt is covered. I’ve barely begun working and I’m already sweating in this thing. It’s cute, but it’s snug, and big breasts always lead to major boob sweat. My black heels are still killing my feet, but I struggle through the pain for the sex appeal.
“Good evening, Rosalie.” I hear the silky smooth voice before I see him, and I can already feel the butterflies in my stomach—Finn.
“Hey, Finn. How are you?” I reply in what I hope is a sultry voice. I normally just end up sounding nasally, and I know my cheeks are probably reddening. Just being around him and his brothers makes me lose any confidence I have.
“Living the life,” Finn answers with a chuckle, as he leans across the bar toward me, his hand inches from mine. “You look beautiful tonight. Anyone special coming in?” I hear a note of jealousy in his tone, but shrug it off as my imagination. I’ve made it clear that I think he’s hot, so if he’s interested he would have made his move by now.
“Everyone that comes in is special, silly,” I respond with a laugh. “I just wanted to dress up tonight. Sometimes it’s fun to get all cute, even if you’re just going to work.”
“I don’t think you need to get so dressed up to tempt the men here.” His words and the smile that graces his face make my cheeks burn, and I tilt my head forward to cover my embarra
ssment with my hair, using the opportunity to clean the bar top with a rag.
“Are you swooning over our beautiful bartender, Finn?”
I bite my lip as I take in Dean, who’s approaching from the back. I scan his body, barely suppressing the moan it evokes from me. He’s wearing dark jeans that are tight in all the right places, paired with a slightly tight black band t-shirt, making him completely droolworthy. He catches me staring and clears his throat with a chuckle. “You look gorgeous, Rose. Why are you wasting your time with my pitiful brother?”
“Uh, hi, D-Dean,” I stammer, dropping the rag to the floor. I take a step back, planning to pick it up, causing my heel to catch on the stone tile floor and snap. I squeak loudly as I fall backward, straight onto my bottom, sending shooting pains up my back. “Son of a bitch!” I groan, looking up to see Dean staring at me in surprise.
“Rose! Are you okay?” Dean crouches down and puts his hand on my shoulder.
Tears burn my eyes as I use all my willpower to suck them back into my skull. I can already feel that my ass is going to be bruised, as well as my ego. “Yes, I’m fine. Just bruised and embarrassed,” I say as I stand up. I’m immediately lopsided due to my broken heel, and groan at the thought of working barefoot all night.
“Well, that’s broken,” Finn notes, as he bends over to pick up the heel of my shoe.
“I know. Fuck, these are new,” I mutter under my breath.
Dean sets me on a barstool and begins taking off my shoes. I immediately feel goosebumps erupt on my skin as I look down at the way too sexy man. “Uh, thanks,” I murmur, summoning a smile to his face. I feel my cheeks heat with a blush at my reaction to him and the knowledge that I’m not hiding it very well.
Dean looks back at his brother as he sets the broken shoe on the floor.
“Finn, can you get those black flip-flops upstairs?” he asks his brother, then turns back to face me. “You’re a what? Eight? Eight and a half?”
I squint my eyes at him and slowly reply, “Yes, I’m an eight. How would you know that?”
“Lucky guess,” he answers, just as Finn reappears at the door. He tosses the flip-flops to Dean who slips them onto my feet before helping me back onto the ground. “There you go. Perfect, although it was nicer when we were closer in height.” His laughter causes butterflies to fly in my stomach again and it feels as if they are permanently there. I try to push why he would just happen to have women’s flip-flops in their apartment out of my mind, concentrating on what his proximity is doing to my body.
I open my lips, ready to say something, something cute or sexy I hope, but I’m cut off when he places a finger on my chin and smiles just before he steps away. It feels as if the breath rushes from my body in a whoosh when he’s no longer so close to me. Relief and sadness overwhelm me. They are so fucking hot. Like, unfairly hot.
“Come on, Finn. We have to get ready for tonight.” They walk back toward the door to head upstairs. “See you later tonight, Rosalie,” Dean calls, locking eyes with mine before they both disappear from sight.
Dean
I pull off my shirt, taking in a deep breath as I do. Rose’s scent still clings to the fabric, causing my mouth to water. I want that girl for so many reasons and not just for her blood. My brothers and I have felt this undeniably strong attraction to the beautiful redhead from the moment she stepped into our club looking for a job. We didn’t give a fuck that she had no experience and seemed to constantly trip over her own feet. She’s perfect.
Her body is mouthwatering, thick in all the right places, someone you know could take a hard fuck and love it. I want to be the person to give her that fuck. I groan at the image and the hard-on that always seems to accompany such thoughts. I need to get my head in the game. We have a club to run and I need blood. The club is the perfect cover to find a source of blood in secret. Women come in ready to party and hook up with hot guys, and they are more than happy to be taken home by the three, very handsome owners of the nightclub, Vee. We came up with the name when we bought the place years ago, thinking it was ironic. Vee because we’re vampires.
We always wanted to create a safe place for vampires to feed without the threat of exposure to humans. What better location than a human nightclub where people come to get drunk and lose their inhibitions? All they remember in the morning is a night full of hot sex, never knowing they have given us some of their lifeforce that’s imperative to our survival. It has turned into a club for all supernaturals, not just vampires, although we still keep our existence secret from the humans.
“Rose is looking delectable tonight. Maybe I’ll just take one tiny—” Finn begins, but I interrupt him with a growl.
“Stop. You know we can’t have sex with or feed on our human employees. They would start putting too much together and it would ruin the amazing thing we have going here.”
Finn nods slightly, but his face is still stony, unaccepting of my words. “It wouldn’t have to be just one night. We could make her ours. It’s clear that she finds us attractive.”
“Do you think she would still find us attractive if she knew we’re not human? That we would expect her to give us her blood for the entirety of her life? I think not. Plus, we would have a decision to make. Expose ourselves to her and either turn her, or have to deal with her aging and eventually dying. Do you wish that on yourself? On your brothers?” I challenge with too much emotion in my voice. I want what he does, I do, I’m just more realistic.
“What are you two bitching about?” Sebastian, our brother, calls out from behind the bathroom door. He opens the door and exits in only a towel, his hair wet from his shower and a scowl on his face.
“Rose,” Finn answers, groaning as he sits down on the bed.
“Aye.” Sebastian nods sagely, complete understanding on his face. “Is she here already?”
“Yeah, she is, and looking gorgeous as usual. She had these heels on that were totally sexy until they broke, and do you know what this idiot did?” Finn points directly at me, and I raise a brow. “He gave her those sandals that woman left here the other night. The brunette that had an affinity for screaming.”
I groan. “What did you expect me to do? She needed shoes and I knew those were here.”
Finn glares at me like I’m the idiot I feel like. I know what he’s going to say, and it doesn’t feel great knowing what I did potentially hurt her.
“You’re an ass, Dean. You are sweet, but a serious asshole,” Sebastian scolds, as he dries his hair with his towel.
“Fuck, I know. Maybe she won’t think about where they came from,” I murmur without much conviction.
“Sure, sure, buddy. I bet she’ll think we normally keep women’s shoes around the bar for those just in case moments.” Sebastian pats me on the shoulder as he humors me.
He’s right, I know he is. I feel more guilty than usual because I’m the one that brought the woman with the sandals upstairs. It was Rose’s night off and I needed a drink, and not of the alcoholic variety. Owning a bar makes finding a blood source easy for us. We are attractive and we know it. Women are more than ready to come upstairs with us, drunk or not. The drinks just help them forget what happens upstairs. They come up for sex and they get that. We like sex, too, but what we mostly need from them is blood. We drink just enough to take the edge off after the woman falls asleep and she’s none the wiser. She’s maybe a bit more tired the next day, but I’m sure that they blame the night of drinking, dancing, and wild sex. We don’t leave a mark and we don’t form attachments. Less clean up. Which is exactly why something with Rose would be a bad idea. She’s a hell of a bartender and a really good friend. She brings men into the bar, even though she’d never believe it. She’d also never believe how much we hate it. The men we catch flirting with her are usually bounced and she’s none the wiser. It’s not fair and we’re asses for doing it, but fuck. We are men obsessed with something we can never have.
I look over and see that Sebastian and Finn are already dressed, a
nd I know that I need to follow. I probably won’t bring anyone upstairs tonight, but I know Sebastian and Finn need to, so it’ll be my job to distract Rose and keep an eye on her. Part of protecting her is protecting her from us.
Rose
The room continues to heat up as more and more people pile in. I lift my hand up to wipe my brow and get a visual on the room. I wish I could put my hair up, I can feel it getting frizzy from sweat. It’s only midnight, so I have two more hours until closing time. My feet feel so much better in these flip-flops, and I feel a sort of relief that the heels broke. I would be dying by now if I was still wearing them. My mind immediately goes toward the reason that the men would randomly have women’s shoes in their apartment, but I shove the thought away, unwilling to explore it further.
I scan the room, looking for the guys like I always do. My favorite times are before opening and after closing when I get to spend those few short moments with them without interruptions. We flirt and banter before they retire upstairs and I go back home. They always offer to walk me or send Reg with me, but I decline.
My eyes scan the crowd, unable to find their forms. They are usually in the VIP area of the club, surrounded by obnoxious women who are stick thin, wearing barely anything, and are throwing their drunk bodies all over them. I bite my lip in irritation at the thought, then my eyes zero in on Finn in one of the booths. A blonde woman is straddling his lap and swinging her head around to the beat of the music. Her hair whips through the air as she dances on him then leans forward, pressing her lips to his. He responds eagerly to her kiss, putting his hands in her hair and pulling her closer to him. Her hips gyrate on his body as his fingers drag down her back, and when she pulls her mouth away, his bottom lip comes with her as she pulls it between her teeth. My hands clench into fists at the scene, and I can barely contain the animalistic growl that escapes my throat. I can’t believe that woman is so blatant in her attraction to him. I mean, I would do the same. Well, probably not, because I would feel too self-conscious about crushing him. I feel too uncomfortable to have sex on top, let along gyrate on someone in the club.
Rose: A Standalone Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance (Jewels Cafe Book 12) Page 1
