Then she’d heard his last name. Pierce. Shocked to the core, frozen in ice, Raven realized his mother was the woman who’d taken her father away. The woman who had gotten him killed in a freak car accident. The woman from her nightmare.
It all happened so fast; she’d told him to get the hell out of her bar, and then he was gone. The pieces suddenly fit together in a lightbulb moment. The brothers were getting drunk because it was the day Diane Pierce was killed. God, she’d felt dirty realizing she’d served them in her bar as they commemorated that fateful day. She swore she’d never allow them back into My Place. Her tat had burned her skin, reminding her of the vow for revenge at her father’s funeral. She hated all the brothers for ruining her father’s reputation and spinning the story to protect their deceitful mother. The Pierces were a powerful family, with the biggest construction firm in the Northeast, and she’d been . . . nothing. An artist’s daughter. Poor but happy. Until they yanked it all away from her without a thought.
Suddenly her father’s displays of artwork in the local shops were stripped down and returned to her because they were unsellable. His reputation as a visionary faded under the sting of terms such as con artist and homewrecker. Gazes were suddenly trained on her with harsh judgment, and whispers rose to her ears in a sickening wave. The place she had once called home turned into a prison, even though Aunt Penny tried hard to comfort and help. Dropping out of the community college, Raven had fled to leave the pain behind, searching desperately for some type of comfort in the expanse of the world beyond.
How many times had she wanted to confront Dalton about the truth? Her father had called her Bella, and she doubted Dalton paid any attention to the remnants of destruction his family had wreaked on a young girl left behind. But each time she opened her mouth to tell him the truth, she stopped. She liked having the secret to herself. She liked being able to study him and his brothers as if they were a key to a puzzle she’d been trying to solve for years. The question still haunted her, no matter how hard she tried to forget.
Why had her father left with Diane Pierce?
Maybe the Pierce brothers knew the truth. If they did, she doubted Dalton would just tell her. No, they wanted to protect their mother, so they’d lie. It’d be easier to find out more if she got closer to them and encouraged them to trust her. Like any good bartender.
So she’d let them back into her bar. She paid attention to their conversations and kept her ears sharp in regard to any mention of their parents or the accident. Raven knew Dalton was her best shot at getting most of the information. He was constantly flirting, and she could easily lead him down the road she needed.
If only she weren’t attracted to him.
Dalton had been pushing harder these past few months, demanding more attention. He was flirty, charming, and regularly asked her out. In response, she’d been mean, rude, and regularly said no.
The real problem lay in the treacherous weakness of her body.
Somehow, some way, he lit her up from the inside out. She became more alive around him, whether she was insulting him, teasing him, or serving him drinks. She made up stupid excuses to check on him or hang near his seat. Over the past months, he’d begun to erode her stubbornness with an infinite charm and patience, until it became harder and harder to truly dislike him.
Raven really, really wanted to dislike him.
“I’m flattered to be the target of your attention, but I’m still waiting for my drink.”
His teasing, wicked words launched her out of her reverie and made her realize she’d been staring at him this whole time. Fighting a blush, she cocked her hip, narrowed her gaze, and studied him. Deliberately. He looked delighted to have her attention, whether or not it was negative.
“Tall and cool, huh?” She treated him to a dazzling smile, which made his mouth drop open a bit in pure surprise. It was rare that she was nice to him, and a smile was almost an extinct gesture from her. Satisfaction flashed at her ability to throw him off balance, but it was chased with a feminine breathiness she hated. Why did he have to be so damn good-looking? She was twenty-seven, for God’s sake. Way past weak-kneed ridiculousness, yet this man got her each time. “I have a better proposition for you. Something I just whipped up that’ll rock your world.”
“Sounds great. I’d love to try it.”
“You got it.” She grabbed a glass and went to the mini refrigerator where she kept samples of batches she’d been experimenting with. The giggling group of females taking up the far end of the bar was celebrating an engagement. She’d given them her latest creation and they’d already ordered a second round. Raven bet it would be perfect for the man across from her who was wreaking havoc on her concentration.