Page 12

Bailey

I’m so tired when I walk into work Monday, I try to avoid everyone by keeping my head low. Of course, Lionel notices me, though and chases me to the back store room where our lockers are.

He sidles up next to me while I’m grabbing an apron and shoving my bag into my locker.

“A little birdy told me Charles Jr. is watching you like a hawk. Any particular reason?”

Goddammit, Charlie.

I shrug. “He’s probably watching me because I’m new and he thinks I’ll steal something.”

Lionel narrows his eyes at me, searching my face and then checking behind me at my rear.

“It could be that. Or it could be that ass in those shorts.”

My cheeks flame, but I laugh.

“I promise you, it’s nothing like that. Charlie hates me.”

“I think the hate makes it better. They really give it their all. ”

“Who told you he’s been watching me?”

“I’ll give you three guesses and the first two don’t count.”

“Marybeth,” I groan, gritting my teeth. Of course, she would notice that. Thank God no one saw me practically climb him like a tree the other night. “You guys didn’t tell anyone else that, right?”

He gives me a pointed stare. “Do I look like a gossip?”

I eye him, wondering if he really wants me to answer that.

He shrugs, conceding. “Okay, I am, but I didn’t say anything. I know when to mind my business.”

I smile, relieved. I reach out and hug him, causing him to still.

“You’re a hugger, ain’t you?” he asks, sounding like I’m causing him physical pain.

I release him with a laugh, just as I catch the silhouette standing in the doorway.

Goddammit. Speak of the damned devil.

I groan internally, meeting a pair of dark and stormy eyes.

“That’s my cue to get the fuck up out of here,” Lionel says with a wave of his manicured hand. He strides past Charlie, batting his eyelashes at him. “Hey, Prince Charming.” I would have laughed, had the look on Charlie’s face not been murderous.

“If you’ve come to chastise me about something, can it wait until I’ve clocked in?” I ask, tying my apron around myself.

Charlie pushes off the doorframe, coming to stand in front of me.

“Where were you yesterday?”

I blink at him .

“Home?”

“Hiding out inside all day?”

I cross my arms over my chest and stare at him, perplexed. “I had work to do. Is that alright with you?”

“Work on what?”

“That’s none of your business.”

He takes a step forward and, instinctively, I take one back.

“If you must know, I was working on a book I’m writing,” I say, mostly to get him to leave me alone.

“A book?” he asks, intrigued. “Is this the study on . . . what did you call me?”

He smirks and it shocks me. I’ve never seen him smile before. It’s not bad — actually, my stomach does a somersault. But then, the smile fades and we’re back to angry, my dick is made of gold , Charlie.

“No,” I shake my head. “It’s a new one. All Five Thousand Reasons Charlie Coulter is a Dick .”

His face darkens and he takes another step toward me. I take another step back, stumbling into the wall of lockers behind me.

“You didn’t seem to mind when you were shoving your tongue down my throat the other night.”

My face burns and I peek around him for signs that someone else heard what he said. In the kitchen, everyone is working, joking, and otherwise, not paying a single ounce of attention to us, at all, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t listening.

“Listen,” I say, dropping my voice and putting a hand out to stop him from getting any closer. I make the mistake of placing it on his stomach, which feels like it’s made of stone. He looks down to where my hand touches him and then back up, his eyes flashing like lightning. “The other night shouldn’t have happened. We both know that was a mistake.”

His face darkens, so much so that it scares me. I wish I could take another step back because when he steps closer, I have nowhere to go. He bridges the gap between us, until I can feel the heat off his body through my clothes and the edge of his jeans just barely scrapes against my bare legs, making my skin pebble. He takes my chin in his hand, tilting my head up to look at him.

His lips hover over mine and he searches my face. All the air in the room is sucked out and I feel like I can’t breathe.

“So tell me not to kiss you,” he taunts, his voice lower and rougher than usual.

God, if you’re listening, I know we don’t talk much, but please give me the strength to walk away from that deep, growly voice.

I can’t hear anything over the drumming of blood in my ears. A heaviness settles between my thighs, my skin on fire.

“Kiss or not,” I breathe. “You’re still an asshole. And that kiss was still a mistake.”

Without warning, he leans down, sealing his lips over mine and my entire world turns on its axis. Charlie doesn’t just kiss. He claims. He tastes like tobacco and something sinister. The little devil on my shoulder screams at me to move closer.

A hungry moan releases from his throat as muscular arms wrap around me. He pulls my hips to his, deepening the kiss and sliding his tongue along mine. He’s warm, strong, and overpowering. My body reacts and I cup his cheek in my hand, wrapping my other arm around his neck. I reach up on my tiptoes to get closer to him, a quiet sigh escaping me.

He pushes away, releasing me, his jaw clenched. I stumble back against the lockers, my breathing heavy and my core aching and pulsing with need. He steps back, wiping my lipstick from his mouth on the back of his hand.

“That wasn’t a mistake.” Then, just like the other night, he leaves me standing in the middle of the store room, staring after him, dumbfounded. I reach up and touch my lips, which are still tingling from his kiss.

I lean my head back against the lockers, willing my breathing to calm before I exit the store room.

“Holy shit.”

The restaurant is the busiest I’ve seen since I arrived in New Orleans. There’s not a single empty table the entire night.

My mood doesn’t help any. I’m in the middle of a serious battle with my uterus over who’s body this really is. Though I had thought my period was over, my cramps are astounding and they really put a damper on the whole on-your-feet-for-six-hours-straight thing.

There’s a new girl on the shift, as well. She’s cute, probably a little younger than me, and tiny. She’s like one of those pint-sized ice creams you can get that make you want to devour the whole thing in one sitting.

She disgusts me.

If there’s anyone to compete in cheer with Barney and Friends , it’s Miss Candace Lawrence, or Candy. She’s a walking bombshell of pin-straight chocolate hair that hangs down her back to her butt, which I might add, is stellar. Her skin is perfectly clear and her chocolate brown eyes sparkle whenever she looks at you. She’s working closely with Marybeth, just as I had done, and she seems to be taking a toll on the seasoned waitress.

Marybeth meets me at the kitchen window when Candy’s on break, looking as frazzled as ever.

“You alright, Mary?” I ask, placing a cautious hand on her shoulder. Lionel watches our exchange as he flips a sizzling burger on the grill in front of us.

She lets out a loud exhale. “No,” she whispers, checking around her to make sure no one’s nearby. “She’s driving me nuts. She’s just too damn perky. I want to be mad and she wants to throw unicorn shit and eat butterflies and it’s pissing me off.”

Lionel catches my eye and we burst into laughter. That seems to calm her down, as she laughs along with us, taking the time to smooth down her fiery hair.

“She’s just annoying. I don’t know why Charlie even hired her back. I would rather deal with anyone’s attitude any day of the week than Pippi Longstocking.”

Lionel gives her a side-eye as he flips the burger on a bun. “You really have to wonder that?”

She rolls her eyes. “I know. Casanova can’t say no to a pretty girl with big tits.”

Something desolate stirs in my chest, a slight ache forming. They clearly know something I don’t.

“So, she’s worked here before?” I ask and Lionel catches my eye. I don’t like the look he gives me.

“Honey,” Marybeth says, rearranging the money in her pocket. “She worked here a couple months ago when her and Charlie was shacking up together. She was piss-poor then, and I doubt she’ll be any better now.”

My heart sinks, my gut wrenching. Not that I have any kind of claim over Charlie, but I did just have his tongue down my throat the other night. That has to count for something, right?

How did I even get myself in this situation? I know he’s a player. I’m just one of the few he hasn’t slept with. He’s probably running out of girls in this city.

The back of my neck burns back and when I look back over my shoulder, I catch Charlie’s eye. He watches us from the bar, curious as to the topic of our conversation while he pours a round of shots for a couple of co-eds. If only he knew the topic of our conversation is his sex life. No doubt, he’d be pissed.

“I’m back” a voice singsongs and I cringe. “Did you miss me?”

“Like a toothache,” Marybeth grumbles under her breath, grabbing her plates and leading Candy away.

May in southern Louisiana is pretty damn warm during the day, but she makes up for it at night.

It’s nice out, so I lay back on the picnic table while I wait for Charlie after we close. The stars are out, even if they’re hard to see through the city lights, so I start finding all the ones I know. I could go to sleep staring at the night sky.

“Sleeping on the job?”

I don’t have to look up to know it’s Charlie. I can feel the energy shift as soon as the door shuts behind him.

Awareness tingles through me, remembering his kiss this afternoon. Why do I have to be so attracted to this man? It’s like there’s a magnet in my underwear that draws me to the biggest, grumpiest asshole I can find.

With a sigh and tingles of nervousness, I climb from the table as he waits by the back gate.

“Don’t you ever watch the stars?” I ask, slipping under his arm. I’m not sure what cologne he uses, but it has to be made with something illegal because there’s no way it should smell that good on its own.

“No. Do they do tricks?”

I roll my eyes, starting toward home.

He looks up at the sky. “Which one were you staring at?”

I join him at the curb to cross Bourbon Street and look up. It’s harder to see out on the street, but I point out the three bright stars above us. “Orion’s belt.”

“I didn’t take you for a stargazer,” he murmurs, looking back at me.

“I’m not,” I shrug as we cross the street. “My dad was before — you know . . .” I suck in a deep breath. “He had a telescope up on top of the garage he owned.”

“I’m sorry,” Charlie says, after a long moment, surprising me.

I look at him, narrowing my eyes. “Charlie Coulter, did you just show sympathy?”

His jaw clenches, but I can see the smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t get used to it.” He pauses, clearing his throat. “I never asked you how he died.”

I didn’t know it was possible, but my stomach cramps even harder. I hate telling this story because it’s one I don’t fully remember. My memories of the night Dad died are filled with flashes of light, the loud noises of metal grinding together, and strange visions as my mind danced in and out of consciousness.

“Car crash,” I murmur. “We were on our way back from seeing Gone with the Wind at some fancy theatre. I used to love that movie and Dad took me for my birthday. I’m sure it was more than he could afford after the divorce,” I grumble, the same sense of guilt eating at me as it had when I was twelve. “A semi driver fell asleep and drove across the highway.”

“You were in the car?”

I nod, the familiar scar on my side burning from the memory. “He hit the driver’s door, right where Dad was. He died on impact. The car rolled a couple times and collided with a tree on my side.”

“Were you hurt?” Charlie asks, his voice deeper than usual and his eyes almost black in the pale gleam of the streetlights.

I stop on the sidewalk outside our shared house and lift my shirt over my right side. His eyes coast down my body, landing on the light pink imperfection on my skin. “The door collapsed on me and something cut me. Two weeks in the hospital and two months with no school work.”

Charlie doesn’t say anything while he unlocks the gate and leads me inside. I’m so thankful to be home that I could fall asleep in the courtyard. As long as I’m off my feet.

“Show me another star.” Charlie’s voice is gentler than I’m used to. It makes me uncomfortable after dealing with his attitude for so long.

I suppress a smile and point to another cluster. “Andromeda. My mom loved the one. Of course,” I point to a different area. “The Big Dipper and the Little Dipper. Dad always used to call my brother the big dip and me the little dip.”

“I can see where you get your sense of humor from,” Charlie says dryly.

“You could do with some humor, Charlie.” I climb the steps to my side and wince, my cramps intensifying.

“What’s wrong?” Charlie asks, his expression unreadable as he starts toward me.

“Nothing. Just cramps.”

“Why did you agree to work?”

I eye him like he’s lost his mind. “Charlie, that’s not how periods work.”

He looks confused, but I don’t have time to explain any further. “I’m going to fall into a coma for ten hours,” I say, unlocking my door. “You have a fun night doing whatever vampires do.” Something stops me, though and I turn back to him, still standing in the courtyard. “I guess Lionel was right. You aren’t that bad. You can be nice when you aren’t focused on being a flaming asshole.”

I walk inside, but I definitely caught that grin right before I turned away.