Gina quickly composed herself and shrugged. "It's hard to blame Noah for being concerned about you. You are his fiancee, after all. It's sweet and you're a very lucky girl to have him."
Natalie heard the wistful quality to Gina's voice and smiled, though again she got the distinct impression there was more to her friend's comment than she was catching on to.
"Yeah, I am lucky," Natalie agreed, unable to deny her feelings for Noah, or how fortunate she was to have him in her life. "And believe it or not, I'm getting used to him being so protective."
Like tonight, he'd insisted on staying the three hours of her shift, just to be close by, he'd said, though she suspected his motivations ran deeper than the need to be near her. He was still worried about her state of mind, and that she might overexert herself and end up physically and mentally exhausted. Rather than argue, she'd let him win this minor battle, and now he was in the back of the place playing a game of pool with Bobby. The scene felt familiar, comforting even, as if he'd done it many times before.
"I'm fine, really," she assured Gina one last time, then picked up her tray of drinks. "I promise I can handle my share of the lounge or I wouldn't be here. And if it makes you feel any better, if I need help or feel swamped or overwhelmed, I'll let you know."
Gina nodded, and softened. "Fair enough."
"Thank you, though, for being concerned." Natalie felt equally lucky to have friends who cared about her. "It means a lot to me."
Before Gina could reply or the discussion turned too maudlin, Natalie left the end of the bar to deliver her drinks. After dropping those off, she headed to table fourteen to greet the three new occupants of the booth and take their order. The trio welcomed her back to Murphy's, and commented that they were glad to see that she was doing so well after the accident. While their faces seemed vaguely familiar, she couldn't place their names, but assumed they were regulars if they knew so much about her. She smiled and pretended they were old friends, conversing with them openly and easily about mundane things.
And so the evening went, with her working from table to table and keeping busy with the Thursday-evening crowd that frequented Murphy's. She felt energized and invigorated, and enjoyed the steady stream of orders that kept her moving and enabled her to shake off the restlessness of the past few days.
She delivered trays of drinks and appetizers, and was amazed and touched at just how many people were concerned about her. Some of the customers she recognized, others she had a hard time placing, but she managed to fumble her way through conversations without anyone being the wiser.
During a lull in business near quitting time for her, she made her way back to the gaming area to see if Noah and Bobby needed a refill on anything. Just as she arrived, Noah bent low over the pool table to make a difficult shot, and a keen sense of deja vu washed over her. Or maybe a real, tangible memory, she realized giddily. Instinctively, she knew she'd seen him in this stance before, could recall admiring him and his firm, muscular backside in soft worn denim.
And it seemed very likely that she might have admired him in such an audacious way. Noah was a sexy, gorgeous man with enough masculine sex appeal to make any woman breathless with wanting him. Except he was all hers, and that knowledge made her tingle with warmth and anticipation of what would happen once he took her home tonight and they were all alone.
But first, she'd up the stakes of his game.
She leaned in next to his side, so close his arousing male scent surrounded her. "Make that shot, and I'll be your love slave tonight," she whispered seductively in his ear, just to rattle his composure and test his restraint.
He tipped his head sideways, meeting her gaze. "I'm going to hold you to that promise, sweetheart," he drawled.
"Oh, I do hope so." She winked at him. "But first, you have to make the shot." Challenge issued, she stepped back next to Bobby to give Noah the room to line up his cue.
Most men would have lost their concentration at such a provocative proposition, but Noah didn't so much as falter as he hit the cue ball, which connected with a red solid, pocketing the billiard ball with precision.
Slowly, he straightened, a lazy, disarming smile curving the corners of his mouth and devilry dancing in his hot blue gaze. "Looks like you're mine tonight, honey. Are you off the clock yet?"
She laughed as she picked up the empty glasses on a nearby table and wiped down the surface with a damp rag, noticing that Bobby was observing their flirtatious interaction with amusement.
"Feeling a bit impatient to be out of here all of a sudden?" she quipped, a naughty inflection to her voice.
"Damn right," Noah growled, low and sexy, his hungry eyes watching her as she worked.
She deliberately put an extra sway in her hips just for him. "Well, you're going to have to hold your horses just a bit longer, lover boy. I've got a few more minutes before my shift is over."
Noah groaned. "You're lucky I don't just haul you over my shoulder and carry you out of here, caveman-style."
"Now, that sounds tempting," she teased, wondering if he'd truly dare to be so bold, and found herself very excited by the notion of Noah being so sexually aggressive with her.
Putting aside those lustful thoughts, she returned to business, knowing she had a few more customers to attend to before she called it a night. "Any last orders for either of you boys?"
Noah shook his head. "Nothing for me. I had my limit of sodas for the night," he replied wryly.
"I'm good," Bobby said, eyeing the balls on the pool table for his shot. "After this game I'm outta here, too."
"Great." She turned back to Noah. Her stomach fluttered at the seductive game she'd instigated between them, and at how he might take advantage of his prize. "Give me ten more minutes to finish up with my tables, and I'll be ready to go."
With a spring in her step, and a few erotic scenarios of her own tumbling through her mind, she returned to the lounge. The steady stream of people had slowed considerably, and she filled a few last drink orders and cleared off the tables her customers had vacated. She tossed the empty beer bottles in the trash and set the dirty glasses at the end of the bar where Murphy washed them. Finished with her cleanup duties, she glanced around for Gina to let her know that she was on her own for the next hour or so.
The other woman was heading toward her, her own tray filled with empty drink glasses. "I'm getting ready to clock out for the night," Natalie said. "Can you handle things from here?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine." Gina withdrew a folded cocktail napkin from her apron pocket and handed it toward Natalie. "I have a note for you."
"A note?" Natalie repeated, suddenly feeling wary, though she couldn't explain why. She hesitated an extra heartbeat, then reached out and took the napkin, though she didn't immediately open it. "Who is it from?"
"A guy sitting in my section," Gina replied as she emptied her tray, then glanced back toward the corner of the bar. "He's right over there at that far booth facing the window-" Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head. "Well, he was sitting at that table. Maybe he went to use the rest room."
Unease prickled along the back of Natalie's neck, and though every instinct in her rallied against reading the note, morbid curiosity won over common sense. She opened the napkin, and her gaze scanned the words written in a bold, masculine scrawclass="underline" Be more careful of your surroundings. I'm watching you and waiting to make you mine again.
"Oh, God," she croaked, and immediately dropped the ominous note as if it were toxic. Her entire body shook uncontrollably, the tremors starting deep and working their way up to the surface.