Flawlessly Broken: (Broken Series Book 2) (17 page)

Well, not the whole way.

I spent a decent portion of the drive remembering what it felt like to have his face between my thighs. The scratch of his beard, the heat of his lips. It wasn’t fair how soft and full his lips were, or how long his lashes were when he looked up to meet my gaze with his tongue buried deep inside me.

And I was squirming in my seat all over again. Shit.

I’d been attracted to him from the first time we met at the hospital. He’d been so attentive and strong, looking after everyone, not just me, as we all awaited word on Ali’s condition. We’d feared the worst after she was pulled from that burning house, none of us knowing just how long she’d been trapped there.

Spencer somehow held us together though, as Ali’s family—and Clay’s—piled into the tiny waiting room. He appointed himself official errand boy, getting food and coffee for everyone and making continual trips to gather clean clothes or whatever anyone needed so that we didn’t have to leave the hospital.

The first night, before everyone had arrived, it had just been him, Clay, and me. Clay spent a lot of time with Ali and Spencer had kept me sane, though he too was worried and upset.

A big part of me wanted to jump him way back then, but my strict no-men policy precluded anything happening. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been attracted to anyone since swearing off the opposite sex—I just didn’t trust them or myself enough to risk it.

The last time I’d let my guard down...

It just wasn’t going to happen. Not to me. Not ever again.

And yet here I was, driving home after hours of mind-shattering sex with a man I didn’t really know at all. I could still smell his cologne on my skin. My muscles ached from the vigorous way he’d taken me. I’d invited him to do it all again in two days.

And I was royally fucking up because I really liked him.

Wanting sex was fine, preferable even, to the years-long stretch of celibacy I’d endured. I was relieved to once again have a libido, but actually liking the guy?

That was a problem.

I’d convinced myself I owed him for going to meet Ali’s mom with me but the truth was, I’d missed him. I’d wanted to see him and explain things so he wouldn’t be angry with me.

So he wouldn’t stop wanting me.

Why didn’t I just leave it alone? So what if he was pissed and never came back? It wasn’t like there weren’t about a million guys out there that would be perfectly fine with a no-strings arrangement. People did that all the time. Why was I so set on Spencer?

And what if he wasn’t set on me?

All this uncertainty... and he’d forbidden me to fucking drink.

FRIDAY NIGHTS AT
Canary were usually hectic, but that Friday night was worse than usual. My chef, Neil, was running around like his hair was on fire because half of his help called in sick at the last minute. The kitchen was so slammed with orders that I donned an apron and played sous chef to keep poor Neil from having a coronary. He was mid-forties, easily agitated, and talented as hell. He and I created the entire menu ourselves, a mixture of my family’s recipes and his.

It was a perfect combination.

And the number of waiting customers was a testament to that.

Gina burst into the kitchen, arms laden with empty plates as she swore loudly and cornered one of the bus boys. He stood there in silent horror as she read him the riot act, reminding him that he was to make a sweep of the dining room every few minutes and reset tables. Poor kid.

When he was properly chastised, she dismissed him and turned to me, still glowering. “That is the third time he’s dropped the ball tonight. Once more and I’m cramming him in the steamer, I swear to God.” She grabbed a towel and used it to brush crumbs from her shirt. “By the way, there’s a guy at the bar asking for you.”

Spencer. I glanced at the clock and cringed. He was early and I looked like hell. “Do me a favor and make him a drink. Tell him I’ll be out in a few, okay?”

She smirked and blew wayward strands of her strawberry blonde hair out of her face. “Take your time. He’s just the decoration I need to perk things up at the bar.” She winked and breezed out.

Neil turned to me with a steaming plate in hand, idly sprinkling chopped basil onto it as he said, “Go. Things are starting to slow down back here and the girl you called in to help should be here in fifteen.”

I finished up garnishing the orders in front of me and whipped off my apron, making my way to the staff restroom. “Thanks, Neil. Let me know if you need me to come back. I don’t mind.”

“Mind? Pfft, you thrive on this shit,” he teased. “Lucky for you, you’re the epitome of grace under pressure or I’d have booted you out of my kitchen ages ago.”

“Whose kitchen?” I narrowed my gaze, not bothering to conceal my grin. He was always full of piss and vinegar. It was almost endearing.

“Sorry, boss. Your kitchen. I’m lucky to even be allowed to look upon such resplendence, much less work in it.” He was pouring it on thick.

“Smartass,” I called just before stepping from the hallway into the restroom to fix my hair.

So glad I was respected by the staff.

ONCE I NO
longer looked like I’d been standing over a steam table—which I had—I made my way to the bar, smoothing my blouse and checking my skirt to be sure the damn thing wasn’t tucked into my underwear or anything.

Why was I so nervous?

The dining room was packed with people happily chatting and enjoying their meals. The noise was a low hum that I couldn’t get enough of. I loved my restaurant. Absolutely loved it.

I neared the bar and Gina walked by, snagging me by the arm and turning us in the other direction. “I had to move him to a table. A group of ten just sat down at the bar and he was caught between two guys arguing over football. Figured he needed saving. I made him a drink—the good shit—and put him at the back booth as soon as it opened up.”

I saw the booth in the distance but the back was too high for me to catch a glimpse of him just yet. I sagged a bit, disappointed because Gina obviously wanted to chat and I just wanted to see Spencer.

“Thanks, Gina.”

I tried to move away but she tightened her grip. “I know you’re not into dating, but he’s really cute. If you don’t want him, toss him to me, okay? He looks like he’d be a lot of fun.”

I turned and gave her a bored look. “Don’t you need to check your tables or something?”

She rolled her eyes, undaunted. “Fine. Be tight-lipped. Party pooper.” She skipped off, back to her perky, exuberant self.

I squared my shoulders, glanced briefly in the nearest reflective surface to make sure I looked okay, and marched to the back corner, rounding the high-backed booth with a huge smile on my face.

Way to play it cool, Talia.

The grin froze in place when I saw who was sitting at the booth.

Shit, shit, shit.

Derek.

I STOOD THERE
in stunned silence for a minute, just gaping at him. His deep auburn hair was styled to perfection, gray eyes full of mischief, as if he’d known he’d catch me off guard. Why had I thought he’d back off? He’d always been a very assertive person, determined and single-minded. He rarely gave up on anything.

He gave up on me, though, didn’t he? All those years ago he looked into my eyes, crying and pleading for his understanding and he just walked away. I’d stood there gaping then, too.

He rose from his seat and reached for my hand. I didn’t offer it. The disappointment was clear on his face. “Hey, there. I was starting to worry about you. I stopped by the other day and they said you’d taken some time off. Were you sick?” He looked so concerned, so interested in my well-being.

Where had that concern been ten years ago?

I gestured for him to take a seat and moved into the booth across from him. His long legs stretched out under the table and I quickly tucked my feet against the booth, not wanting him to ‘accidentally’ touch me. “I had things to attend to. Are you here to work on the article? Because the Friday rush really isn’t the best time.”

Good job. Disinterested tone, keeping the conversation geared toward business, I’m fine. I can do this.

He quirked a brow, a familiar expression that revealed the small scar in his left eyebrow, leftover from his football days. I used to think it was so sexy, now it made me look away. I didn’t want to remember that scar or all the times I had traced it with my fingertips. That girl was gone, broken forever by the boy he’d been back then.

“Relax, Natty. I’m not working tonight. I just thought I’d stop by to check on you. I thought maybe you were sick or something. I asked, but no one would tell me anything. The hostess, the bartender, no one. The manager wasn’t here when I stopped by, maybe she would have told me something. She seems nice.” He smiled charmingly.

The entire staff was getting a bonus. He was hard to refuse, I could attest to that, so they had done a great job.

I frowned at him. “Stop calling me Natty, you know I hate that. I really don’t have time to socialize tonight, Derek. We’re understaffed and overwhelmed.”

I placed my palms on the cool table top and started to stand, but he reached out and gripped my wrist.

“You’re really going to leave before I have a chance to say what I came here to say?” He sounded irritated; a chink in his charismatic armor.

My stomach clenched at the contact, and not in the pleasant way it did when Spencer had done it.

As if my thoughts conjured him, Spencer was suddenly there. He stepped to the edge of the table and took my free hand, looking pointedly at Derek’s grip on my other wrist. “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart. It took forever to find a parking spot.”

Derek snatched his hand back and glared between Spencer and I. For his part, Spencer seemed unconcerned with Derek, now that he’d let go of me.

Spencer helped me from the booth and pulled me into his arms hard enough that I practically slammed into his chest. Before I could react, his mouth was on mine, hungrily kissing me until my head swam.

Derek cleared his throat and Spencer put a hand on my ass, giving it a quick squeeze before letting it go and breaking our kiss. He kept his eyes on me, full of lust and tenderness... and jealousy. “Am I forgiven?” He searched my face, waiting for me to either approve or veto his actions.

“Of course, baby,” I cooed, tugging lightly on his beard.

Derek cleared his throat again, loudly.

Spencer turned to him like he’d been completely unaware of his existence. “Hey man, I’m Spencer... Talia’s boyfriend.” He extended a hand while I fought to keep my jaw off the floor. “And you are?”

Boyfriend?

Derek gawked at me, I gawked at Spencer, and Spencer was eating this shit up. He’d gotten us both with one very loaded word.

Boyfriend?

Luckily, I recovered first. I leaned into Spencer’s side, an arm around his slim waist and smiled at Derek innocently.

He grudgingly shook Spencer’s hand, looking annoyed. “Um... I’m Derek Wheeler. I grew up with Talia. She didn’t mention a boyfriend.” He eyed Spencer warily.

“I would have, but I thought it was inappropriate to discuss personal matters. Despite our familiarity, our affiliation now is just business and professionalism is important to me. I’m sure you’re of the same mind, right?”