Page 5 of Clashing

Chapter four

Sweet as Sugar

Scarlett

O nce I recovered from Ryker’s flirtatious comment, I hurried to the van. I parked in the alleyway, then collected my suitcase and the bag with my framed drawing. Entering through the back, I raced around the corner and found Dan typing into his register.

“Scar.” He tossed a rag over his flannel-covered shoulder. “My famous artist.”

I grinned. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Don’t undervalue yourself.” He gave me a look before refocusing on his customer. “Take it easy.” He handed change to the customer, then gestured to the stool by the register. “Sit. We should celebrate. I’ll get you a drink. You hungry?”

“I’m starved.” I set my hand on my stomach. “But I need a shower. I’ll be fast. Then I’ll take you up on that drink, and I could use one of those really unhealthy burgers you make with all the cheese and bacon.”

Those burgers would probably cause my death, but I didn’t care. There was cheese and bacon inside the burger as well as on top. A heart attack waiting to happen, but they tasted divine.

“Sounds good.” He nodded to the bag in my hands. “Hey, let me look at the last one you got.”

“Sure. Don’t get grease on it.” I handed it over. “I’ll be right back.”

Suitcase in tow, I hurried upstairs and showered fast at my rumbling stomach’s demand. After the shower, I put on the first things I found—some shorts, a V-neck, and sandals to avoid being barefoot.

In the kitchen, I plucked out a glass with intent to get water.

However, when I turned the handle, an unusual hiss caught my attention.

I frowned and opened the bottom cupboard.

Sure enough, a leak in the pipe sprayed water at me.

Sighing, I snatched a hair tie on my way out and bounded down the steps, throwing my curls up in a bun as I went.

“Dan, do you have tools I can borrow, or can you check out my kitchen sink?” I asked when I hit the last step.

“Sure, honey. What’s the problem?” He poured a glass of amber liquid and slid it across the counter.

“I think a pipe is loose. I’d fix it, but I don’t have any tools. If you give them to me, I can figure it out.”

“I’ll fix it for you after closing,” Dan said.

“I can look at it, Danny. You shouldn’t be on your knees.”

Oh no. Shouldn’t Mr. Flirty be fixing his friend’s bike? I rubbed my sweaty hands over my shorts and tried to avoid glancing at Ryker, who I hadn’t noticed sitting at the bar.

“Well . . .” Dan furrowed his brows. “I’d rather it was fixed for her soon.”

“It’s okay, I can wai—”

Ryker rose from his stool. “Tools in the same spot?”

“Yep. Scar, will you show him the way? This is Ryker, by the way. Ryker, this is Scarlett,” Dan introduced. “Ryker helps out around here.”

While I couldn’t think of an argument, Ryker, that ass, stifled a laugh when Dan was occupied with a customer. Ryker strolled into the back and returned with a toolbox. I glared. He gestured for me to go upstairs.

This seems dangerous. “I can figure it out.”

“You don’t have to, sugar,” he said, climbing the stairs.

Damn him. Damn his nice butt in front of me as I followed him up.

“Don’t call m—”

“Oh, right. I’m sorry. My bad, baby.” He winked at me over his shoulder as we ascended.

At the top, he leaned against the wall and waited. Huffing, I opened the door and led him to the kitchen. Ryker set down the tools, then turned on the sink. That hissing returned. He crouched and inspected underneath while I tried not to gawk.

He ended up lying on his back, head disappearing under the pipes. Without worrying he’d catch me, I fully appreciated him. His shirt tonight clung to him much like that first night. It rode up as he reached under the sink with a tool.

I salivated. Abs. Abs for days and a dusting of dark hair with a V leading . . .

Thankful he couldn’t see me, I fanned myself. My gaze continued over his jeans and thick thighs to his work boots. God, if he’s not the world’s most perfect specimen.

“That should do it.” He slid out from under the sink and turned the tap on.

Much to my dismay, he hadn’t failed. The water flowed, hiss-free.

He packed away the tools, then straightened and plopped the toolbox on the counter. “Anything else need fixing, sugar?”

I scowled. “How would you like it if I called you sugar?”

“Hmm,” he hummed and pushed off the counter, advancing toward me. His hand lifted and I flinched.

Dammit, no. I refuse to be scared of anyone lifting a hand. I held my ground as he tried again, tilting my chin up toward him. He invaded my space with another step closer. His hot breath hit my lips, and my body sparked with awareness.

“I wouldn’t mind it, baby. I wouldn’t mind it one bit. I like pet names.” My lips parted without my permission when he rubbed his thumb over my bottom one. “Why don’t you give it a try, and see how you like it?”

An ache pulsed in my lower half. “You’re the worst.” I scoffed, finding the strength to shove him.

“The worst ? Really? Come on, Scarlett,” he said, drawling my name. “I fixed your sink. You’re not going to thank me?”

Oh, I could think of a way to thank him. It included very few clothes.

No! Bad Scarlett. Deciding a response wasn’t safe, I rushed out the door. He laughed, but I ignored it and didn’t slow down until I found Dan at the bar.

“All good?” Dan asked.

I forced a smile. “Yep.”

“Have a seat. Your burger’s almost ready. You want a whiskey?”

I hopped on the stool. “Please.”

“Here’s the drawing.” He slid the framed piece across the bar top. “It’s really good, Scar. I’m sure someone’s gonna snatch it up.”

I grinned to myself while he flitted to the kitchen. It didn’t matter what happened in my life, praise from Dan would always mean the world to me. I was lucky that he wasn’t stingy with it. I reached for the drawing, but another hand claimed it first. Ryker’s hand.

“You drew this?” He picked up the frame.

My heart rate sped up. Why does his opinion make me nervous? “Yes.”

“It’s incredible.” He rotated it in the light. “I thought maybe Danny talked you up too much. Guess I was wrong. I hear you have some celebrating to do, Scarlett.”

It took me a moment to compose myself at his compliment. And the way he said my name, something he had to be doing on purpose. Unfortunately, I found myself staring at him again. He stared right back. Jackass. At least he returned the drawing before Dan approached.

“Your burger.” Dan slid the plate in front of me, then poured my drink. “Here’s to you, my rising artist.” He clinked his glass of water with my whiskey.

“Thanks.” I giggled, taking a sip. I returned the drawing to its bag and tucked it next to the register. It was time to dig into my glorious burger. I pointedly turned my body away from Ryker while I ate. Why was he here again already anyway?

“Another, Ryker?” Dan called out.

Ryker turned over his glass to Dan. “Thanks.”

“This one’s on the house,” Dan said. “For taking care of that pipe.”

“Not a problem, Danny.” Ryker positioned himself on the stool next to mine.

We both sat on the corner, so it wasn’t as if we were side by side. Still, irritation straightened my spine. There was plenty of space at the bar. He didn’t need to sit right next to me. I peeked over to find him glancing over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at something.

I hated how sexy his glare was. I hated how sexy all of him was. I needed to get him off my radar.

“Are you an alcoholic or something?” I blurted out. Wow. Smooth, Scarlett.

Ryker brought his gaze to mine, eyebrows raised. “Are you ?”

“No.” I wiped my face with a napkin. The burger was messy, and the last thing I needed was a verbal sparring match with a slop of ketchup on the corner of my mouth.

“And what makes you think I am, sugar?” He raised his glass to his lips.

I’d like to be that glass. “I’ve barely been here and have already seen you twice. Plus, you seem to lack memory since I told you more than once not to call me that.”

“Well, you called me an alcoholic. I think it’s only fair I get to call you something , Scarlett.”

There it was again. He was saying my name differently on purpose.

I dropped my burger. “Do you like saying my name or what?”

“Yeah, I like saying your name. You know what I like more?” He leaned forward on muscled forearms. “Your reaction to me saying your name.”

“I don’t react.” Lie.

“I don’t know about that, Scarlett.”

Heat enveloped my cheeks. He took a drink of my whiskey while maintaining eye contact. When he pushed the glass into my hands, his fingers very intentionally grazed mine and elicited goose bumps. He had nice, long fingers . . .

“You have good taste.” He held up his glass. “Wanna try mine?”

My dry mouth fell open, but nothing came out, and once again, we were locked in a staring contest neither of us could break.

Until Tammy, the waitress, hurried over, her sneakers squeaking on the floor.

She gripped his arm, sparking a stupid bout of jealousy.

Tammy whispered to him, and he nodded, his gaze never leaving me.

She stepped around me, and everything happened fast. Some guy came up behind Tammy, his hand going for her ass. Ryker intercepted it.

He snatched the man’s wrist, twisted his arm behind him, and slammed the guy’s head onto the bar. “You try to touch her again, you lose your fucking hand. Understand?”

My eyes widened. Gone was the playful Ryker from a moment ago. This was a different one, and he was pissed . Moisture pooled between my legs. Here I was feeling jealous when Tammy went to him for protection. How many times had he stood up for her?

The guy whimpered and nodded.

Ryker let him go and shoved him away from the bar. “Get the fuck out of here.”

The guy stumbled away until he was out the door. Ryker returned to his seat, and Tammy offered a timid smile.

“Thank you.” She rubbed her arms. “Sorry. I thought I could handle him.”

“Don’t apologize for his shitty behavior, Tammy. You can always come to me.”

“Thanks, Ryker.” She beamed, then returned to work.

“Did we get another asshole?” Dan asked, stepping through the kitchen doors. “I heard a ruckus.”

Ryker drank the last of his scotch. “There’re no shortage of drunk assholes, Danny.”

Worry lines creased Dan’s forehead. “Who?” His gaze landed on me.

“She wasn’t the target.” Ryker inclined his head to where Tammy was filling a beer from the tap. “Don’t worry. He’s gone.”

“Oh. I’ll check on Tammy. Sorry, honey.” Dan patted my shoulder. “I’ll chat with you in a minute.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “You’re busy. I’m good.”

While Dan walked away, I processed what happened. Ryker was sexy and annoying but also kind of a sweetie? That wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all. Soft heart under rough exterior? A deadly combination. I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I did what I did best—avoided it completely.

“You don’t call Tammy sugar.” I pouted.

That playful glint in his blue eyes returned. “No, Scarlett. You’re the only one getting that honor.”

I threw my hands up. “Why?”

“Because, sugar,” his lips quirked into a half-smile that sent tingles straight between my thighs, “you have such a sweet voice. Sweetest I ever heard. I can’t help but wonder, do you taste as sweet as you sound?”

Oh my God. He did not just say that.

He tilted his head. “Should I find out?”

Yes. No. Maybe.

My gaze dropped to his lips, which I wished weren’t kissable.

I redirected my attention and found him fixated on my mouth as well.

He reached under the bar and grazed my knee with his knuckles.

I closed my eyes and focused on breathing.

The contact disappeared, and when I opened my eyes, his demeanor changed.

He angled away, eyes averted. I frowned until I noticed Dan approaching.

Ah, so he was also aware it would be a problem. Interesting.

“How’s the burger, Scar?” Dan asked, refilling Ryker’s drink without asking and adding more to mine.

“Good.” I picked it up in cheers. “Perfect.”

“So, what have you planned next weekend?” Dan wiped the counter.

I lifted one shoulder. “Nothing.”

“My gun show is next weekend.”

I scrunched my face. “Ugh, no. I’m sorry. I love you, but no.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you, honey.” He chuckled. “I know you don’t want to go. I was wondering if you could help out at the bar since I’ll be gone.”

“Oh.” I perked up. Finally , he’d take me up on helping out. “Of course. No problem.”

“Great. I worked out a schedule with Tammy. I’ll go over it with you when you’re done.” He twisted toward the danger to my abstinence. “Ryker, will you and the boys be around to keep an eye on Scarlett?”

“Oh my God.” I rolled my eyes. “Stop. I don’t need someone watching me.”

“You know we will be,” Ryker said. “We’re here every weekend.”

“Thanks.” Dan grinned before looking at me guiltily. “Don’t look at me like that, Scar. I know you can handle yourself, but drunk people get out of control sometimes. Nothing wrong with someone watching your back.” He walked off to serve another customer.

I ground my teeth and sent a glare at Ryker, who didn’t try to hide his smugness.

He waited until Dan wandered a fair distance away, then leaned over the counter, whispering quietly enough for my ears only, “Don’t worry, sugar. I won’t cramp your style. I’ll just watch your back and everything attached to it.”