I nearly choke on my last bite of chocolaty goodness and feel my eyes widen as I realize exactly what she meant by “long-term plan.” “You want to
marry
him?”
“We need this, Lilah.”
I force myself to swallow. “But why Bran? I mean, you’re gorgeous. There have to be a million guys who would want to marry you who aren’t player bartenders.”
“Because I like him,” she says with a self-conscious shrug. “He’s exactly the kind of guy I want. He’s strong and loyal and…” Her face scrunches in embarrassment. “He’s crazy hot, Li. Once he comes around, he’ll be amazing.”
“Crazy hot” is an epic understatement, but I don’t correct her. What I say instead is, “You’ve known him two weeks, Destiny. He could be an ax murderer for all you know.”
She shakes her head. “I’ve seen how he treats the people he works with. He’s a really good guy, Li.”
“Carol’s his cousin, right? And pregnant. He’s going to treat her good.”
“He even treats the cook, Jeff, like family. And you should see him with his mom. He turns into a big teddy bear. I’m telling you, he’s one of the good ones, even though he doesn’t seem to realize it yet.”
“If you say so.” I blow out a breath as I stand and head up the hall. “Good night.”
She pushes up from her chair. “’Night, Li.”
I take the money with me and tuck it into my pillowcase. When I finally turn out the lights and get in bed, I realize I’m shaking a little. I guess Stalker freaked me out more than I realized.
Or maybe it’s just the things Branson Silo does to me—and the things he makes me want to do to him—that scares the crap out of me.
Chapter 7
Bran
I’m under the hood of my car, still sweating from my morning workout at the gym, when Destiny pulls up in her green Dodge Neon.
Dread snakes through my gut as I gear up to explain, once again, that I’m not into her.
She pulls into an open space across from my carport and I stand and lean against the fender. She’s in shorts and a tight T-shirt, which showcase all her best assets. And in her hand is a big baggie of chocolate chip cookies.
“I haven’t seen your car in the daylight,” she says, and it occurs to me, as much as they’re nearly identical on the outside, Destiny’s voice doesn’t pull at my balls the way Lilah’s does. “It’s awesome.”
I wipe my hands on my jeans and pat the hood. “She’s my baby.”
There’s an awkward silence and she holds out the bag. “I made some cookies last night, but if I eat them all they’ll go straight to my ass, so…”
I take them. “Thanks.”
“So…” she says, fidgeting with the strap of her bag. “I was just on my way to the bar, but I wanted to stop by with those.”
“Then I guess I’ll see you later,” I say, setting the bag in the V between the open hood and the windshield.
She just stands there as if waiting for me to say more, but I’m not sure what she’s expecting. Finally, she opens her mouth.
“If you don’t have other plans, I could stop by with some ice cream after you get off tonight.” She nods toward the cookies. “Those make killer ice cream sandwiches.”
I take a deep breath. “Listen, thanks for the cookies. Seriously. But, I meant it when I said I just don’t see this happening again,” I say with a wave of my hand between us.
She tips her head. “I’m only talking ice cream sandwiches, not diamond rings, Bran.”
I shove a hand into my hair and blow out a long breath. May as well come as clean as I can at the moment. “You are totally hot, and I had an amazing time with you, but there’s someone else I’m sort of into right now.”
Her eyes widen slightly before she can fully contain her surprise. “The redhead at the bar last night? Lilah told me about her.”
At her sister’s name, my insides prickle with a rush of adrenaline. “It doesn’t matter who, Destiny. I told you before I’m not really feeling this, and that hasn’t changed.”
Her mouth presses into a tight “oh well” half smile and her eyebrows go up as she backs away a step. “Just thought we were having fun. If you’re not into it anymore, no problem.”
I lift the bag. “You want these back?”
She looks over her shoulder at me as she turns for her car. “Of course not. I made them for you.”
And with that slip, I know for sure nothing about this is casual for her. I totally fucked up bringing her home.
“Thanks,” I say, reaching into the bag and popping a cookie into my mouth.
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?”
I nod. “She probably has more hours and the pay would be hella better than Ma pays her waitresses.”
She tugs at the end of her ponytail and I’m all proud of myself for pulling that off with so much tact, until she says, “Ambling Rose is only open until four. Maybe when Carol goes on leave and I’m on nights here, I could do that in the mornings.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I say. It was an asshole move anyway. “I’ll put in a word for you next time I’m there.”
I’m a dick. It’s the least I owe her.
She gives me a sparkling smile. “Thanks for the suggestion.” She leans across the bar. “And whoever the lucky girl you’re into is, I wish you the best of luck with that.”
I nod, hoping she remembers she said that when she finds out it’s her twin sister. “Thanks.”
The two hours between when Destiny leaves and when Lilah shows feel endless, and I keep rolling how to approach this over in my mind. I
am
going to tell Lilah I’m into her tonight. I’m just not sure exactly how far I should take it. My stiff cock every time I think of her is all the indication I need of where I
want
to take it, but my better judgment tells me bedding her right off the bat is likely not the best strategy.
Because in my mind, this isn’t a one-time thing. For the first time I can remember, I’m thinking beyond the first fuck.
But when she finally comes in and I see her crossing the bar toward me, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to keep my libido in check for another night. Because the fantasy of throwing her onto the bar right this second and sinking my cock into her consumes my every thought.
I slide a tip jar across the bar as she sets her guitar on her regular stool and unpacks it.
“I don’t need a bodyguard,” she says without looking at me.
“Good, because I don’t know any.”
Her eyes lift to mine, cold as a steel blade. “I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for years.”
I nod. “I’m sure you can. That’s not the point.”
“Then what
is
the point?” she snarls.
I lean across the bar. “The point is, I want to walk you home.”
She throws her hands up, exasperated. “I told you, I don’t need you to!”
I lower my voice and let every ounce of desire I feel for her flow through my next words. “But the question is, do you
want
me to?”
I know she gets my message when her eyes flare and her face flushes. My eyes skim down her tight shirt and, as if on demand, her nipples harden for me. Her mouth opens to answer, but closes again as she climbs onto the stool. She pulls her guitar into her lap and starts playing.
A small group seats themselves at the booth nearest the door and Carol brings their drink orders to the bar. I’m mixing when Lilah’s voice filters into my head, a song I’ve heard before but can’t place. But the lyrics grab my attention and when I glance up at her, her eyes are burning through me.
It’s a song about wanting something you can’t have. When she hits her stride in the chorus—a verse about how fighting base instinct is futile—I feel my groin tighten in anticipation. If I’m reading this right, she’s answering my question. And it’s exactly the answer I was hoping for. She’s feeling it too.
I mix her rum and Coke and slide it across to her. When she finishes her first song, she downs most of it before launching into the second.
Carol comes for her tray. “She’s in rare form tonight,” she says with a tip of her head at Lilah.
“Meaning?”
She turns her back to Lilah and mutters, “Meaning you two should just jump each other in Vicky’s office and get it over with.”
I scratch my head. “That obvious?”
A devious smile kicks up one corner of her mouth. “I could be blind and still see it.”
In between orders, I try to stay busy with cleaning and inventory so I don’t burn a hole through Lilah’s skin before she even finishes the first set. I keep her glass full of Coke, but otherwise leave her be.
When Marcus, my ex-roommate, shuffles through the door with his girlfriend, I breathe a sigh of relief for the distraction. They arrange themselves around the table nearest the door and just as I round the end of the bar the door opens and his sister Blaire and her husband come through.
I knuckle bump Marcus. “Thought I was rid of you.”
He shoots me a grin. “Caiden defended his dissertation today up at the Sierra State. I used the excuse to tag along for a Sam Hill burger.”
I look at Blaire’s husband as he settles into his seat. “How’d it go?”
He leans back, loops his arm around Blaire’s shoulders. “They didn’t ream me right on the spot, so that’s something. I’ve got some clean up but nothing major.”
“I don’t really get all that academic shit,” I say, lifting my hand for a knuckle bump, “but congrats, I guess.”
He bumps me. “Thanks.”
I turn my attention to Marcus’s girlfriend, Addie. She worked here for a week a few months back, but I knew her before that because she had to retrieve her drunk dad off my barstool more than once. “How’s Bruce?”
I’m glad when a small smile quirks her mouth. She wouldn’t have smiled at that question even a few months ago. “Good. He’s got a job and he’s dating my aunt.”