Saxon bit back a growl of frustration. Honestly, he didn’t see what all the fuss was about. It wasn’t like he’d actually stolen it. “It was supposed to be back before she left for work, and I thought Matt had called her.”
“I know you were trying to do the right thing. Your methods might have been a bit high-handed, though.”
He raised an eyebrow. “High-handed?”
Duncan crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing him. “You’re not a man used to being challenged by anyone. Might be quite interesting to see you come up against someone who doesn’t respond with how high when you say jump.”
“No one around here asks how high when I say jump,” he replied dryly. “Would be a hell of a lot easier if they did.”
Duncan shook his head, a small smile on his face. “Always think you know best, don’t you?”
“I’ve rarely been wrong.”
“Your matchmaking and interfering have left a few people with raw feelings towards you. I haven’t forgotten that you gifted my wife a membership to your club.”
“Your wife was a lost little sub who needed help. As a Dom and a male resident of Haven I could do nothing else but step in to help her.”
“You didn’t have to enjoy it so much,” Duncan growled.
Saxon grinned. “Didn’t I?”
Duncan half-turned, his gaze caught off in the distance. “And Aspen? She’s not a sub. What drew you to helping her?”
“She’s a woman alone. It was getting dark, and she didn’t have any way of getting home. Did you expect me to leave her alone while she attempted to find her way home?”
He still wanted to know how she’d gotten to work today. If she’d walked or hitched, they were going to have words.
“And I’m not so sure she’s not a submissive,” he muttered, more to himself.
“That so? Guess you’d know. I know she’s a little timid but she could just be shy. Doesn’t mean she’s a sub.”
Shy? Timid? Aspen? He nearly snorted at the idea. But that had been his first impression of her as well so he couldn’t blame Duncan for thinking that.
“Of course, she doesn’t look so shy or timid right now.” Duncan had a smile on his face as he continued to look over towards the right. “In fact, I’d say she has a full head of steam on her and I’m guessing you’re the intended target.” He chuckled. “Good luck with that, my friend.”
Saxon leaned against the doorframe and watched as Aspen stormed towards the club. Head of steam was right. She was so hot with rage it was a wonder the top of her head didn’t blow off.
She paused when Duncan stopped next to her. He grinned down at her. “Go get him, tiger.”
She blinked in surprise but then turned back to her prey, marching up to him. He stood there, staring at her, his face impassive. Unreadable. She swallowed heavily. Now that she was here she wasn’t feeling quite as confident.
Well, she wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. She was going to say her piece then leave. Simple. Now or never. Because she was pretty certain she wouldn’t work up the courage to do this again.
She glared up at him, placing her hands on her hips. “You have got some nerve!”
“Hello to you too, Aspen. And how are you today?” he asked in that smooth as syrup voice.
“Don’t try to act like you don’t know why I’m here!”
“I can only guess you’ve decided to take me up on my offer to show you around. But it would be best if you came back later when the club is open and wore something a little more appropriate.” He ran his gaze over her.
Oh, the man was completely infuriating.
“You know full well I’m not here for a tour of your club. I’m here because you’re a presumptuous asshole who had my car fixed!” Okay, even she heard that ridiculous that sounded. But she was here now. She wasn’t backing down.
He raised both eyebrows. “And that makes you angry?”
“Of course, it does!”
“You’re angry at me because your car now works?”
She frowned. “Don’t play your word games with me.”
“I wasn’t aware I was. Aspen, how did you get to work today?”
“What?” Okay, now he’d thrown her.
“One of Matt’s guy’s drove your car out to you so you would get to work in time, but you’d already left. So how did you get to work?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Hmm, which means you don’t want to tell me. And the reason you don’t want to tell me is because you believe I will disapprove of your method, which I’m sure I will.”
“I don’t care if you disapprove or not.” She pointed her finger at his chest. “What I do is none of your business. Nor is how I do it. And it was not your place to get Matt to fix my car.”
“Do you or do you not need a working car?”
She saw the trap. And there was no way around it. She sighed. “You know I do.”
“Without that car you would be unable to get to work, yes? The same with your mother.”
“Yes.” She didn’t bother telling him she would have worked something else out. She’d been lucky today when she’d been picked up by that older couple, but hitchhiking around wasn’t her idea of fun.
“So then what is your real objection?”
“You didn’t ask me first.”
“I did ask if you’d like me to call Matt for you and you said you’d do it. Only when I called him, you hadn’t done so. I decided to take care of that task for you.”
“That wasn’t up to you.”
“Aspen, you needed the car to get to work. What if one of your boys got sick and needed to see the doctor? How did you plan on getting him there?”
Those words struck her. She hadn’t even thought about that. She should have. She often worried about the boys being stuck in the cottage with her mother without a means of transportation.
“I was also worried that without a car to get to and from work you’d do something stupid or dangerous like attempt to walk or hitch a ride. Which is why I told Matt the car needed to be ready by the time you had to go to work this morning.”
How had he known she would be working this morning? Or that she hadn’t needed it for work yesterday.
“So would you care to tell me who gave you a ride to work? Because you know what’s going to happen if I found out you hitched a ride or walked.”
Right. Like she would forget his promise to turn her over his knee. She really didn’t want to tell him the truth. Because she knew what his reaction would be.
She cleared her throat. “Hannah gave me a ride,” she lied. Time to change the subject. “Matt wouldn’t let me pay him. He said you told him to send the bill to you.”
“I did.”
She couldn’t be indebted to him. It wouldn’t be right. “I’ll pay you back.”
He nodded. “You are welcome to do so.”
She opened her mouth to argue then realized he was agreeing with her. “Well . . . all right then.”
“Good. Now, would you like that tour?”
She gulped. Nerves jumped in her stomach, and she shook her head frantically. “Uh, no. I have to get back to work. I’m on my lunch break.
He nodded. “All right. This was a good chat. Oh, and Aspen?”
She turned back as he called out to her. “Yes?”
“Make sure you actually eat some lunch, all right?”
The door was shut before she could answer him. She shook her head. He was a strange man. Just when she thought she was beginning to understand him he did something that surprised her.
She’d been expecting a fight when she told him she’d pay him back and now she had to figure out how to do that.
By the time she returned to the diner, she was starting to feel bad. Sure, he was arrogant and thought he was always right. But he’d been trying to help and he hadn’t meant to give her a fright.
She sighed. And she’d gone there full of fury and yelled at him. Well, she wasn’t sure s
he’d yelled. It would take a brave person to raise their voice to Joel Saxon. Or a stupid one. Considering the way she’d just spoken to him, she was starting to believe she could be the latter.
She ran her hand over her face as she pulled on her apron.
“Hey, honey, you have time for any lunch?” Peggy asked, walking out back.
Aspen smiled tiredly. Exhaustion weighed her down. Despite having yesterday off she didn’t feel rested. Mind you, taking care of two small people wasn’t exactly a day off. Not that she’d change that for the world. Those boys were everything to her.
“I’m fine. I’m due back on in five.”
Peggy eyed her sharply. The older woman didn’t miss much. She didn’t take any bullshit either. Aspen had learned that early on and she appreciated it. She’d worked for plenty of scumbags in her time who were only too eager to take advantage of a young girl on her own. Peggy was firm but fair.
“That means you’ve still got five minutes. Go and make yourself a sandwich. You can eat it before you go out there.”
She shook her head. “It will make me late.”
“I’ll cover you.”
She bit her lip, hesitating.
Peggy shoed her with her hand. “Good Lord, missy, I haven’t worked this hard to get someone to eat since my boy was a young’un. Get, will you? And I don’t want any arguments.”
She smiled. “Do you want some pies baked later?”
“You got time or you got to get home to those boys?”
“I should be able to spare a few hours. Thing is, instead of paying me for the time do you think I could take one of the pies with me?”
Peggy looked slightly surprised but she nodded. “You can take one. I’ll pay you for your time, though. Got a hankering for pie?”
More like she thought she owed someone a peace offering.
3
Aspen pulled up outside the club in her car. It didn’t even make that squeaking noise as she turned around corners. She shuddered to think what it must have cost to fix everything that had been wrong. She just hoped that Saxon didn’t want his money back quickly.
She climbed out and a wave of dizziness hit her. Her whole body ached. What she wouldn’t do for a hot bath and a beer. She smiled and shook her head. Baking half a dozen pies after working a shift at the diner made her feel like she was closer to eighty than twenty-two.
She grabbed the box holding the pie and walked to the door, pressing her finger down on the buzzer.
Curiosity tugged at her as she stood there. If she hadn’t thought it would come with a price, she might just have taken him up on his offer of a tour.
The door opened, but instead of Saxon, a thin, gray-haired man stood there. He had to be in his early sixties but he stood straight as an arrow, dressed in a dark shirt and pants that were neatly pressed. He looked down his nose at her. “Yes?”
Maybe she was only imagining the hostility in his voice.
“Um, hi, is Saxon here?”
“No.”
That was it. Just no. She cleared her throat and held up the box with the pie in it. “I brought this for him.”
Did the other man just sneer? All right, so she looked like a hot mess, it wasn’t an excuse to be a jerk to her. “It’s a pie,” she added lamely.
“Mr. Saxon doesn’t eat desserts.”
He didn’t? Who the heck didn’t like pie? That was just weird.
“Right. Well. I guess I’ll take it back with me then.”
“Thomas! Thomas!”
She turned at the deep, masculine voice and spotted a huge bear of a man striding towards them. He was dressed in a chef’s jacket and had short, dark hair with hints of gray. She couldn’t stop staring as he stormed towards them.
“Where’s Saxon?” the other man demanded.
She heard the old guy, Thomas—he hadn’t bothered to introduce himself—sigh and mutter something to himself.
“He’s out Mr. Renard.”
“Well, when will he be back?” Mr. Renard asked with exaggerated patience.
“In a few hours, he had to drive into Freestown.”
“I need some saffron, and this god-forsaken town doesn’t sell it. Call him and tell him to get some.”
God-forsaken town? She loved this little town. Sure, it was different but that wasn’t a bad thing. In fact, this was the best place she’d ever lived.
Thomas stiffened further. “I am not your employee, Mr. Renard.”
“Yeah, but you’re his. And I need saffron for the dish I’m making, so hop to it.” He actually clapped his hands. She stared on in amazement, expecting Thomas to erupt. But the other man was obviously too dignified for that. Instead he shut the door. Quietly.
“Got a fucking stick up his ass that even an excavation crew wouldn’t be able to remove,” the other man muttered then turned to her. “Who the hell are you?”
“Uh, I’m Aspen.”
“You a submissive come to sniff around Saxon? ’Cause he doesn’t like when they turn up when the club’s not open.”
He didn’t? How many women came to visit him anyway? Was that why Thomas had been so snooty, because he thought she’d come to “sniff around” Saxon?
“That’s not why I’m here. I baked him a pie to say thank you for helping me.” Well, and it was an apology for her overreaction. “But it turns out he doesn’t eat desert.”
“Says who?”
“Thomas.”
“That old stiff? Wouldn’t believe a word that came out of his mouth.”
“Really? So you think he would like my pie?”
He tilted his head. “Depends on how good the pie is, I guess. Might taste like shit. Then he wouldn’t want it, would he?”
She stared at him then down at the box. “No, I guess he wouldn’t.”
“Well, does it?”
“Does it what?”
“Taste like shit,” he said impatiently.
Wow. He was . . . odd. And that was being nice.
“You listening? Cause you look like you’re away with the fairies. I don’t have time for that or for shit pie.”
“I don’t believe it tastes terrible or I wouldn’t have bought it here for him, would I?”
“Now, I don’t know about that, seeing as I don’t know what your relationship is with Saxon, do I? Might be you’d bring him shit pie just to make him suffer. You put something in it? Laxatives? Poison?” He eyed her suspiciously.
Her jaw dropped open before she drew herself up. “No. Of course not. I would never do that.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “No need to get all huffy. Just checking. That boy pisses people off on a daily basis. Never know when someone is going to go searching for revenge.”
That boy was probably only five years younger than him.
“He is annoying,” she agreed. “But I didn’t poison the pie. I made it as a thank you and a kind of apology.”
He nodded solemnly. “Good way to apologize. Blow job would be better.”
She spluttered, taking a step back. “Ex-excuse me?”
His gaze narrowed. “You’re one of his subs, aren’t you? Don’t act like you don’t know what a blow job is. Had a falling out with him? From what I’ve heard, he doesn’t forgive easily. That’s why I suggested the blow job. Not many men can keep up a head of steam when they’re getting their dick sucked.”
The man was incredible. Rude. Disgusting. Was he seriously standing here advising her to give Saxon a blow job? Heat filled her as the image of her on her knees, between his legs, taking what she had no doubt would be an impressive cock slowly into her mouth . . .
Fingers snapping in front of her face brought her back to the present. “You’re daydreaming again, girlie. One thing I can’t stand is daydreaming.”
She scowled at him. “I’m not daydreaming; I’m thinking about what I’m going to do with this pie.” If it weren’t such a waste of good food, she’d be highly tempted to squash it into his face.
“Give it to me.”
<
br /> “Excuse me?” She took a tighter hold of the pie. She wasn’t going to just give it to him. He didn’t deserve the pie. “It’s not for you.”
“I want to see if it’s any good.”
“Why?”
“Because if it’s shit you need to know now, before you waste your time making any more.”
“Everyone who has tried my pies likes them.”
“That so? Well, we’ll see. Come with me.” She gaped after him as he turned away and walked down the path.
“I’m not going to tell you twice, girlie,” he called back without turning around. “Get that cute little ass moving. Now.”
Really? She didn’t need this. She should just walk away, get in her car, and take the pie home with her. She didn’t need this jerk telling her whether her baking was any good. She didn’t even know who the hell he was. She was exhausted. She just wanted to go home, kiss her babies, and get some rest.
Despite all those rational reasons to turn away and go home, she found herself following him.
She stepped through the hole in the hedge to see him enter a large, two-story house with scaffolding around it. She’d never seen this building before. Not that she had much reason to come over to this side of town. And the huge hedge that surrounded the property hid the house from the road.
She moved closer, curious despite herself, and followed him inside. She was surprised to find herself in a huge commercial kitchen. Awe filled her as she took in the state-of-the-art appliances, and stainless-steel counter tops.
“What is this place?”
“This is Saxon’s.”
“What?” She turned to Mr. Renard, who had grabbed a sharp-looking knife from the butcher’s block. She swallowed. Coming in here alone with him probably hadn’t been her brightest idea.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” he told her brusquely. “I’m not going to use this on you. It’s for the pie. Put the box down.”
“This is Saxon’s place?”
“Yeah. He’s opening a restaurant. Obviously still under construction. Didn’t you know?”
No. She hadn’t.
“Guess he doesn’t do a lot of talking in the sack, huh?” He chortled, and she glared at him.
“That’s none of your business,” she told him haughtily. Not that she had any idea whether Saxon talked while in bed. But damned if she wouldn’t like to know.
Saxon's Soul (Haven, Texas Book 5) Page 4
