Every Little Dream (Second Chances) (5 page)

I decide not to approach him yet, but let him sit in his misery, so when I present myself, I’m more like a breath of fresh air. Or I could be using that as possible procrastination, because I’m not sure I can handle another flat out rejection.
 

I take orders, pour coffee, clear tables, all while sneaking glances at Chad. He’s barely moved. When I bring in a stack of dirty dishes, Justine corners me.

“What are you thinking? I told you he was bad news. A complete ass.”

“Was I that obvious?”

“Yes. You can’t keep your eyes off him.”

“I can’t help it. What if I was meant to witness his accident? Maybe he needs a good girl in his life.” Maybe he needs me just as much as I need him. He just doesn’t know it yet.

“I see the look on your face. What are you planning?” She nods to a customer and gathers a few menus to seat them.

“I don’t know exactly.” I run a finger along the edges of my apron. “Just that maybe he could use a friend.”

Justine gives me a hug. “Everyone needs a second or third chance, but if I catch one whiff of him hurting you, I’ll be your worst best friend.”

I salute her then point to the tables. “Customers?”

“Fine. Why don’t you take your break now and bring him his refill of coffee.”

I stifle a squeal. “Thanks. You’re the best!” I smooth out my apron and run fingers through my hair. Obviously, last night was the wrong approach. Maybe, even if he doesn’t realize it, he’s looking for a good girl. He might’ve pushed any girl aside last night. That must be it. Then armed with a coffeepot, I head toward his table.
 

Two feet away, he looks up. Surprise lightens his face and then it passes and shadows take its place. Like a storm crossed his face just at the sight of me. Hmpf. Guess he likes to be a challenge.

I slide into the booth. “Hi.” My voice sounds breathless and nervous. I tuck my hands under my legs or I’ll do something stupid like fiddle with the napkins or try to hold his hand.

“I’m a liar.” The words shock me. I didn’t mean to be so blunt. Wait. Who am I kidding? That’s what I’m known for. Might as well be myself. “Well, not really a liar even though it might seem it to you especially since I told you I was and then told you I wasn’t…” I look up and see confusion. I sigh. “Let me start again.”

“Why not?” he says dryly, and glances at the door.

“I’m not the person you met last night.”

He laughs, but it’s not a joyful sound, more like the sarcastic response of someone tired of life. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“No, I mean…” I stumble over my words. Why is this so hard? “I mean I am, but I’m not. I was trying to be a bad girl last night. I was trying but I failed miserably. I couldn’t even pretend to be a sex goddess without you seeing through my act.”

He lifts an eyebrow.
 

Maybe I should’ve left out the sex goddess part and the fact that I basically said I didn’t really like him. I rush to correct my words. “I mean it wasn’t an act. I loved every moment of being with you. Not that we had sex or anything.” My face must be blinking red I’m so embarrassed. Justine was right. He’s out way out of my league. “Never mind. Just leave. I just thought you looked like you could use a good girl in your life. And I sure as hell need some excitement.”
 

“Um, could I have some more coffee?” His eyes have a tiny sparkle in them, like he’s enjoying my predicament.
 

I pour his coffee. “I’ll leave you alone now.” I slide out, wanting the floor to open up and swallow me whole. Since when have I forgotten how to talk with a guy? Since I met this one, I guess.

“Wait,” he says.
 

I stop at the edge of the padded booth seat. “What? You want some more laughs at my expense?”
 

“No. I have a question.”
 

For the first time, something other than distrust and mocking crosses his face. He’s curious? I slide back in and place the pot on a stack of napkins. “What?”

He pauses as if carefully choosing his words. He reminds me of a lawyer, the way his face is expressionless and he’s about to drop the bomb that wins the case. “What was last night really about?”

“Seriously? I already told you.” I groan. “Are you trying to humiliate me even more?”

He shakes his head. The way his black hair falls around his face draws my attention to his mouth, his jaw, then lower to the hollow at the base of his neck. My insides sizzle as my gaze lingers on his mouth again.

“I’m not sure I believe you. Your story seems a little flimsy.”

His words slap me out my haze of attraction. “Well, I had too much to drink. You invited me back. We made out. Then you kicked me out when you realized I was the same girl you almost ran over with your bike.”

“That’s what it might’ve looked like.” He sips his coffee. “But there’s more to it.”
 

“What do you mean, more to it? Seems pretty clear cut to me.” I try my hardest not to let out the huff of frustration.

“Just tell me the truth why you tracked me down, then I’ll tell you my reasons for kicking you out.” His eyes narrow and suspicion is written in the way his lips press together and the way he studies me.

I sigh. “I already told you.” I can’t embarrass myself any more than I already have in the past twenty-four hours. “Lately, I’ve been bored.” I bite my lip, then continue. “I thought finding a the right kind of guy who lives on the edge would bring some excitement to my life. So I dressed the part.”
 

He leans back, his tee stretching tight against his chest. His face softens. “So you don’t know who I am? Never heard of me?”

“I only know that you shouldn’t be driving drunk and that you have a bad reputation. And that’s exactly what I need right now. Minus the driving drunk part.”

“Now
that
I’ve never heard from a girl before. I doubt your parents would approve of your choices right now.”

I set my jaw. “Well, they’re not here, are they?”

“How old are you?” he shoots out.

“Twenty-one.”

“And the only reason you came home with me was because I seemed tough and a little bit dangerous?”

I nod. Then I remember something he said when he kicked me out. I hadn’t understood it at the time. “Why else? What were you thinking?”

He shakes his head, holding back his laughter. “I thought my dad had hired you to spy on me. I recognized the smell of honey on your skin and knew you weren’t really the girl you were pretending to be.”

“Is that so wrong?” I ask.

“No. I just didn’t know how else to take it.” He swallows down the rest of his coffee. “But you’re right. You need to stay away from me.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one to decide that?”
 

He pulls bills from his pocket and lays them on the table. He’s about to walk out of my life. Forever.
 

“I’ll decide it for you.” Then he leaves.

Chad

I had to leave. When she stumbled over her words, blushing, her eyes on my lips…all I wanted to do was reach across the table and slam my mouth against hers. Bring that excitement to her life. Maybe she wasn’t a spy for my dad but I wasn’t good for her. She needs a man cut from the right kind of cloth, standard and clean, an upright guy who will do right by her, not one who’s in the middle of fighting daddy wars and losing.
 

The brisk ocean air is like a slap in the face, knocking images of her adoring eyes and curvy body out of my lust-filled mind. I made the right choice shooting her down. But damn. She’s hot. Just as beautiful when I thought she was a vision after the accident. I head to The Salty Dog before I’m tempted to go back to that tiny restaurant and pull her into a kiss that’ll make her drop her panties on the spot.
 

I have a little bit of time before the deadline to meet my dad. Still don’t know what my answer will be. A big part of me wants to say fuck off and walk out of his life. It’s almost like that’s what he wants. Get rid of me once and for all. But then there’s the stubborn part of me that doesn’t want to let him off that easy. As if he expects me to walk away from my inheritance because I’m afraid of a little work. But shit. Working for him would be hell. He’d make sure of it.

Before I reach the bar, footsteps echo behind me. Katie might not’ve been spying on me yesterday, but I’m pretty sure Dad’s had me tailed for a while. Someone reporting back to him. Telling him of my sins, all the times I drink, stay out too late, or spend too much money.

Dad controls the money with such a tight fist he became paranoid. He drove Mom out a long time ago, and a part of me has never forgiven him. With that same control and paranoia, he’s close to losing me too.

Purposefully, I take my time in front of the shops. While fingering a T-shirt, casually, I glance back. Someone ducks into the crowd. He’s getting sloppy. Whoever it is.
 

At the last second, I duck into The Salty Dog. Hopefully this’ll lose the guy. I sit at the bar and order a shot. It’s early, but no one would judge if they knew my dad. If they did, they’d buy me the next one. And the one after that.

Thirty minutes later, the shot glass still full, still sitting in the same place, I leave. I can’t go see Dad without a clear head. Just in case.
 

As soon as I step out, I feel the eyes on me. Damn. I’m going to have to teach this guy a lesson. I speed up. I slow down. All the way to my bike. Then I jump on and race away. See how serious he is about following me. How much is my father paying him?

I whip around the strip three times, then screech into the last parking lot. My bike kicks up the dirt in the lot. A yellow bug pulls in after me, not exactly the hired-investigator kind of car. I storm over, not caring, not thinking. As soon as the door opens and I see the flash of blonde hair, my stomach sinks. I can’t believe I fell for her sweet innocent act. My accusation comes out hard and mean. “I thought you weren’t working for my father?”
 

Her breaths are shallow and fast. “I’m not,” she gasps out. “You were driving like a demon straight from hell. No wonder you got in an accident the other day.”
 

“That wasn’t my fault. The other guy veered into my lane.” I growl. “Now why the hell did you follow me if my dad didn’t hire you?” Everything she told me over coffee, all the lies I bought, cause my body to shake as the anger at being the fool courses through me.

Tears glisten on her eyelashes. Her eyes blink and she knots her fingers together. After lowering her head, she peeks back up at me, biting her lip, before speaking. “I was worried about you.”
 

“What the hell does that mean?”
 

“Just what I said. I was worried. I sat with you and talked with you because, well, you looked like you needed a friend. Then you rushed out and all we talked about was me and the other night.”
 

I stare into her eyes, unblinking, her fathomless eyes that are like a cloudless day and I could see forever. This girl couldn’t lie if she wanted to because I’d see right through her. Time to squash this before it turns into anything, before she thinks I like her. “Or maybe you still want me to show you some excitement.” I laugh bitterly. “Well, there you go. You got some. Now go back to your nice, easy life.”
 

I walk back to my bike. Time to meet with good ole Dad. I’m just about to hop on my bike when she lightly shoves me from behind.

“What is your problem?” she asks, eyes flashing.

I wiggle my fingers. “Watch your temper.”

She takes a few deep breaths and controls her anger. I’m in awe. It takes me a lot longer than some messed-up breathing technique to control myself.
 

“Why don’t you believe I might just care because I’m a decent human being?” She steps closer to me. Her hair drifts across her face, a strand clinging to her lips. “Maybe I care because I’ve never experienced the kind of kiss like I did last night. Maybe I want that. Maybe I care because I saw the hurt and hopeless look in your eye this morning. And I know when someone needs a friend.”
 

I can’t find the right comeback. Her words pierce my defenses. When was the last time someone cared? She saw right through me this morning. I never let anyone see that part of me. Ever. It took her less than a day. I close my eyes to get her out of my mind. The strands of hair that I want to touch. The body I want to press against mine. The lips I want to kiss again.
 

She touches my stomach. I suck in a breath. She walks around me, her fingers trailing a path on my skin. She stops right in front of me, inches away. The smell of honey and vanilla invades my senses and overpowers the smell of the briny salt from the sea. Her soft hand caresses my cheek. Her thumb traces my lips.

“For one who claims to be so innocent, you sure seem to know what you’re doing.”
 

“Or maybe,” her voice is shaky, “it’s just you bringing it out in me.”

With my eyes closed, I reach out and feel for her. I touch her neck and move up to her face. She pulls my finger into her mouth and sucks on it, gently. She’s got to stop doing that. Holy shit. I can’t hide my arousal. She’s like this dream enchantress casting her spell. Whatever she’s doing working.

“Kiss me,” I whisper, demanding.
 

She lets go of my finger and catches my hand in hers. Then she trails the kisses down to my palm.
 

I step even closer, keeping my eyes shut, blocking out the noise: the increasing traffic, the roar of the cars rushing past. I open my eyes. Her eyes are closed and she’s wrapped up in the moment. I think how sweet making love to her would be. I’d be gentle. I’d be loving. I’d be everything she wanted. Everything she’s looking for.

She leans forward slowly. It feels like my first time. The way my heart is pounding and the anticipation swirling through my chest. I can barely breathe. Our eyes catch. Hers are cloudy with desire that she’s probably never felt. That creates a rush all of its own. I sway closer to her, not looking anywhere else. She licks her lips and glances at mine.