She gives me one of those flirty finger waves as she lowers herself into her car. “See you tonight.”
As she drives away, I think about Googling a way to delay labor, because one hour of shift overlap is going to be awkward enough. I don’t even want to imagine what being at the bar all night every night with Destiny’s going to look like once Carol’s gone.
Especially weekends when her sister is sitting on my barstool ear-fucking me with that smoke-over-gravel voice of hers and making me hard as stone for her.
I jacked off again last night thinking about her on top of me, riding my hard cock. I haven’t done that since high school. Even on base, there were plenty of opportunities. But now every opportunity pales in comparison to the one who’s holding out on me.
I’m fucking obsessed. That’s the only word that describes the grip Lilah has on me. And tonight, if I get the chance to be alone with her, there’s no fucking way I’m not going to grab it.
?
I call Mom and tell her I’m going to be a few minutes late, then drive the long way past Lilah’s apartment. I roll up to the curb and get as far as cutting the engine before I realize just showing up here makes me as bad as that asshole stalker from last night. I flip my phone from my pocket and look at her number. The only other women in my contacts are Ma and Brenda. I don’t get hookups’ numbers. Hell, I usually don’t even know their names. But I needed Lilah’s. Her ringtone is one of the clips I taped of her. My finger hovers over the call button for a really long time before I hit it.
“Hello?” Her voice is cautious and I’m sure she’s wondering why the fuck I’m calling her.
So am I.
“Hey. It’s Bran. Just wanted to check if you needed me to pick you up tonight.” Yeah…totally lame.
“Why would I need you to pick me up tonight?” she asks, skeptical and still wary.
“Because that pervert might still be hanging around.” I don’t mention that this pervert is parked right outside her apartment. “Carol could cover the bar if I swung by for you around seven.”
“No, thanks,” she says. “I can get there on my own.”
“You walked last night,” I say, thinking out loud. “Do you have a car?”
There’s a pause. “No.”
“Then I’ll be walking you home again tonight. I don’t want you out there alone in the dark.”
The line goes dead and I realize she hung up on me. Dark rage climbs out of the deepest pit of my soul, where I keep it caged, and I fling my door open. But I’m not even out of the car before better judgment wrestles with the rage and wins, sending it back into the pit. Breaking her door down is not going to accomplish anything but demonstrating exactly why I’m wrong for her—why I’m wrong for anyone. Until I can keep my demons in check, I won’t subject anyone I care about to them.
And I care about Lilah.
I don’t know why or how it happened, but she means something to me. I take a deep breath and yank my door closed, then start the car.
When I walk into Sam Hill, Destiny’s still on shift, but Carol’s already clocked in. I watch from the door as Destiny passes the bar heading into the kitchen. She slips behind the counter and clicks open the register.
I move along the wall to get a better look just as she pockets what looks like two twenties from the register. Her gaze flits guiltily around the bar as she slides the drawer closed…and connects squarely with mine.
I raise a brow at her and her eyes widen, realizing she’s been caught.
Which explains why Ma’s been riding my ass for my drawer coming up short most nights.
I shove my hands in my pockets and move toward her. “Money tight?”
She cringes and pulls the cash from her pocket. “We’re short on rent.”
“We?”
She nods. “Me and my sister just moved here and we haven’t quite gotten our feet under us yet.”
She tries to hand the money to me, but instead of taking it, I pull a pair of twenties from my wallet, replacing the ones she took. She just looks at me, trying to sort out what’s happening.
“You need cash,” I tell her, lifting the beer mug next to the register, “pull it from my tip jar.”
She starts shaking her head, but I stop her by shoving a ten from the jar into her hand.
“This will keep Ma off my back. And anyway, since your sister’s started playing here, my weekend tips are double, so really I owe you.”
She looks at the cash, and I see the struggle in her eyes. Finally she pockets it. “Thanks. This will really help.”
“Those cookies where really good, by the way. Were they from scratch?”
She nods and I sort of wish I didn’t say anything when hope sparks in her eyes. “Glad you liked them.”
But I brought it up for selfish reasons. “You should think about seeing if Molly needs some help over at Ambling Rose.”
“The bakery?”