“I’ve been great, but I’ve missed seeing you around,” she purred in this ultrasexy voice, her eyes looking all smiley and sleepy at the same time, and Shep’s cheeks went flush instantly. I could almost hear his erection ping to attention. (I’d never seen her turn on this vamp side. It was totally lethal. I would kill for a cheat sheet.)
“I’m so glad.” Shep squeezed her shoulder, his face looking warm, his soulful, half-baked eyes trying to look deeply into hers, though it was hard to take someone seriously when they were dressed like a grungy teenager and smelled just a little on the far side of ripe.
“You’re going to play tonight?” She ran a hand over his chest, leaving it there as he tried to breathe normally.
“Yeah. We’re starting in just a few.”
“I just love watching you play.” And that’s when I saw the sneaky side look she gave. If I’d blinked, I would have missed it. She was that quick and seamless, but I turned my head to follow her gaze and saw that Adonis had somehow made his way to a bar stool just a short distance away and was gritting his teeth, watching the scene play out between Shep and Cyn. He did not like what he was seeing, if the muscle ticking in his cheek was anything to go by.
“Can I buy you a drink before I go on?” Shep asked.
“Sure. I’d love one.” She turned to me, and I’m sure my mouth was hanging open at this point. “I’d like a Corona, Tay.”
I recovered myself enough to utter, “Really? I thought you were allergic or something.”
“Not that allergic.” She smiled.
“Well, if you’re sure.” I frowned and grabbed a cold one from the fridge behind me, but as I put it on the bar with a cocktail napkin, a large male hand took the bottle from me.
“She doesn’t drink,” Adonis stated, sort of in a Terminator voice.
“Back off,” Cynthia snarled at him.
“What’s going on, Cyn?” Shep frowned, having to look up a few inches to see Adonis clearly. “You know this guy?”
“No, I don’t,” Cynthia growled, and I have to say, I was absolutely speechless. I’d never seen Cynthia break a sweat on a hot day, much less get downright angry. She was always the blonde who was cool and in control no matter what crisis happened to be playing out.
“Leave her alone.” Shep, poor guy, did his best to stand up for Cynthia, though it was clear he was nervous and scared to be facing a guy who looked like a powerhouse. I appreciated that Adonis seemed to be a blond version of Ryder, all big and hulking.
There seemed to be a sudden surplus of big and hulking...
“Make him go away, Cyn,” Adonis said in a quiet voice. He displayed an absolute lack of concern for what Shep thought he could do in a fight. “He’s got nothing to do with this.”
Cynthia glared up at the man’s face as seconds ticked by, and I could almost hear Shep gulp. Then she plastered a smile on her face and turned to Shep. “No worries.” She leaned over and kissed Shep’s cheek. “He’s an old friend. I think your band is ready to start.”
“Are you sure? ’Cuz if you need me to, I’ll kick this guy’s ass.”
“No, really,” Cynthia insisted. “It’s cool.”
I almost laughed seeing the look of relief that crossed Shep’s face. “Okay, then. If you’re sure.” But he couldn’t get away quickly enough. He moved toward the stage at a fast pace and didn’t look back.
Adonis tossed bills my way for the beer he was leaving behind. “Let’s go.”
“No,” Cynthia snapped, getting comfortable on one of the bar stools. “I’m here for a good time.”
“You want to do this here?”
“I want you to leave me alone. We have nothing to talk about.”
“Can’t do that.”
“Cynthia, do you need help?” I lowered my voice. “Charlie and Bill can handle this for you.”
“I’m fine.” This was a Cynthia I didn’t know. Her face was composed in unusually hard lines, and though she was definitely angry, I thought there was a hurt look to her eyes. Had this guy hurt her in the past? Was he the lying, cheating bastard from long ago?
“Let me know if that changes.”
“I will. I’m just going to sit here and listen to the band.” She turned to Adonis. “You want to talk, do it here. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“We’ll see about that,” he muttered.
“Tay, I need help.” Sally, one of the servers, was grabbing up a dozen beers from the fridge and trying to grab as many frosted mugs from the freezer. “Got a large party crammed around three of the tables, watching the screen over there. Can you grab that tray?”
“Sure.” I turned to Cynthia. “Be right back.”
“No worries. I’m not going anywhere.”
An old pro at this, I hefted a tray carefully and made my way across the room, expertly anticipating and sidestepping customers who suddenly stepped in my way because they were a little toasted and not paying attention.
But here’s what really sucks about being a server, and why I was so determined to get behind the bar and off the floor:
When your arms are loaded and you can’t protect yourself, drunken guys try to get away with shit. I was able to ignore the carefree pat on my ass as I followed Sally around the large group of men seated and standing at the tall, round bar tables and stools that Johnny had scattered around the outskirts of the dance floor, but then I felt a hand on the bare skin of my thigh, and it was moving up.
“Hey! Cut it out!” I scowled, trying to dislodge the guy’s hand with an elbow to his chest. It was the best I could do while carrying this stupid tray. Didn’t work. He’d had a few too many to be thinking clearly. His eyes looked bleary and empty, and a goofy grin was spreading across his fleshy cheeks.
“You sure are pretty,” he mumbled. His hand started climbing toward my ass cheek!
I set the tray down, but it turned out I didn’t have to. One second the guy was in his chair, and the next he was kneeling and crying out, holding his fingers. It was a blur, some simple maneuver involving twisting the fingers of his offending hand, which totally incapacitated him.
And who was towering over him at approximately six feet two inches with muscles bulging, ready for action, murder in his eyes? Who was my dark knight to the rescue? Ryder. My heart quivered. I was breathless. I couldn’t seem to stop staring at his face. It was so beautifully masculine; his scruffy square jaw was clenched, a sneer curling his top lip, his eyes looking stone cold at the guy on the floor.
He raised them to meet mine, and they narrowed and heated as they did a body scan. They sent a shiver through me before he looked back down at the guy on the floor nursing his fingers.
“Leave her the fuck alone.” His voice came out all low and deadly sounding. Tingles went up my spine.
“Ryder,” I whispered, forgetting where I was for just a fraction of a second.
But the rest of the world wouldn’t let me forget. Some of the guy’s buddies stood up, looking like they wanted a piece of whatever was going on, and I knew what that could mean. I wanted to get ahead of it.
“You all want to get tossed?” I used my meanest, loudest voice. “Tell your friend here to keep his hands to himself, or next time he’s getting booted!” Understanding the situation now, they all sat down and turned their attention back to what they’d been doing with mumbled comments about their friend like “What an ass” and “Why did you bring him?”
When I looked back to thank Ryder for helping me, he was gone. Disappointment sat heavily on my shoulder. After quickly emptying my tray and tossing it back behind the bar, I got back to my station, but Cynthia was gone and a quick note on a napkin told me she was going home. At that point, my curiosity got the better of me, and I took a fifteen-minute break, hoping to spot Ryder. No luck.