Josie
I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off. I wasn’t supposed to work tonight. I had nothing organised. I couldn’t find my boots. My jeans were still damp around the waist. Matilda was being fussy and wouldn’t eat. When they’d called I was about to say no, then the reminder that I needed the money surfaced and I found myself agreeing. Since that moment, I’d been like a cyclone darting about the house.
“Josie, just breathe for a second.” Mia laughed as she grabbed hold of my shoulders as I went to push past her. For a woman of her miniature size, she was definitely strong.
“I don’t know, Mia. Matilda is being really stubborn tonight. I can’t get her to eat anything. Maybe I should just call them back and say no.”
“Josie, she’ll be fine. Derek and I are home tonight and we would love to take care of her.”
“Who am I taking care of?” Derek asked as he strode into the room, wrapping Mia in a huge bear hug before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
In that moment I hated them. I was jealous. I wanted what they had. That easy going, relaxed relationship. Someone whose eyes lit up just because I was in the same room. My stomach turned over. I knew I’d never have it, never have the opportunity. But knowing it and accepting it were proving to be more than a few miles apart.
“Matilda. We’re babysitting tonight.” Mia smiled up at him, her eyes alive for the first time in days. Although we’d never finished our conversation thanks to a screaming Matilda—she’d ended up two days later at the hospital with a ferocious temperature thanks to an ear infection—Mia had remained tight-lipped. It seemed though that tonight the fog was starting to lift…something I was eternally grateful for. I didn’t need to know what caused the change, truthfully I didn’t care. If Mia was happy, then I was happy. It was that simple.
“Great!” Derek grinned as he unwound himself from around her and reached for the buckle on his holster. Dropping it in the drawer in the side table, the same place he always put it, he turned back towards me. “It’ll be fine, Josie. You know I can’t get enough of that little Munchkin anyway. Where you headed? Hot date?”
“I wish!” My reply came out snarky and shocked even me.
“Okay then.” Derek backed away. “Sorry I asked.”
Grabbing my hair, I pulled it back in a tight ponytail and tied it tightly with the elastic from my wrist. “Sorry, Derek. I didn’t mean to be a bitch…”
“It just comes naturally to her…” Mia giggled, poking her tongue out at me.
Brushing aside her teasing, I explained, “I just got called in to work. But if it’s a problem—”
“No, not at all! Go! I got this!” He winked at me and disappeared into his bedroom.
For a moment I stared at the doorway where’d he’d just vanished, lost in my own thoughts. I wondered if I’d ever have that. Someone to rely on. Someone to know what I needed before I did. Someone to make the thoughts in my head just a little quieter. I sincerely doubted it. It still didn’t stop me wishing, though.
A squawk brought me crashing back to reality and I turned to head in Matilda’s direction. Mia’s hand on my arm stopped me. “You go get ready for work, Josie. I’ll go.”
“You sure?”
“Yep.” She popped the ‘p’ as she basically skipped down the hall to the bedroom where I’d left Matilda on the floor surrounded by toys.
Shaking off the thoughts, I rushed to the front to find my boots.
Four hours later, not even the idea of my bank balance getting a much needed boost could make me feel better. It was one of those nights. I knew I should have said no, but when Jenna called with the flu, needing me to cover her shift, how could I refuse? After everything she’d done for me, I owed her this. Well, at least I thought I did. Right now though, if anyone asked I’d vehemently deny it. This just wasn’t worth it. Nothing was.
So far tonight, I been hit on half a dozen times, my ass groped at least twice, and it seemed that every order was served by my boobs. I mean, I knew I wasn’t a super model and it didn’t really bother me, but I was over guys staring at my chest like the rest of me didn’t exist. Between that and the lewd comments, I was more than ready to call it a night. This was not what I signed up for.
“Josie?” Cash called out from the kitchen as he dropped another plate of potato wedges heaped with sour cream and chilli sauce on the counter between us.
Stomping over, I grabbed the plate and yanked it quickly from the counter. Too quickly. Instead of carrying it across to the table in the corner, my roughness sent every single potato sliver to the ground at my feet. “Fuck!” I swore as I bent to pick them up. Burning my fingers, I continued to berate myself as I tossed them in the bin.
“I’ll organise another serve. Might want to send over another drink to him,” Cash suggested, gesturing in the direction of the lonely guy in the corner.
“Why?”
“Because, Pussy Cat, you just upended his dinner on the floor, and now he’s going to have to wait for another one.” With a wink, Cash vanished into the depths of the kitchen and I was left with my mouth gaping open.
I’d been working here for almost a month, and from the moment I’d met Cash, a balding middle-aged man with a waistline that seemed to have expanded a little more every time I saw him, he’d taken to calling me Pussy Cat. At first I despised it. Despised him. But it quickly grew on me. So did Cash. These days he was more like a surrogate father than a friend when I stopped to pick up my pay cheques, yep, we were still paid in actual written cheques and had Matilda with me, he scooped her up in his arms and entertained her like he was her grandfather. Spoiling her rotten and filling her up with sugar before returning the now devil child back to me.
I hated that he was always right. Tonight I didn’t need him to be. Tonight I needed him to be wrong. Desperately wrong. Asshat never was, though.
After pouring a tall glass of rum and Coke, adding some extra ice, I trudged around the bar and headed in his direction. Hopefully this time I wouldn’t tip it all over the floor. The closer I got to his table, the more intrigued I was. He was alone again. He was always alone. Every time I’d seen him come in here, he was always flying solo. He’d nod his head in hello before finding a quiet, dark corner. He never brought a book, he didn’t look at this phone—he just sat there. Alone. Seemingly enjoying the solitude. It made me curious in all the worst ways.
“I brought…you a drink,” I announced as I set the glass down on the table in front of him.
“Th-thanks?”
“I-kinda-spilt-your-dinner-all-over-the-floor.” My words came out in one giant garbled mess. I hated it when I had verbal diarrhoea. It only happened when I got really nervous, and I couldn’t place the last time I had been, but there was something about the way he looked at me that brought it all back with a vengeance. The stubble on his chin looked sexy and scruffy, and the thought of it scratching my thighs sent a shiver through my body. One look at his calloused hands had me wondering what he could do with them.
“That’s okay,” he replied with a deep, gravelly voice that shook my very core.
“We’re just organising a new plate. Shouldn’t be too long.”
“Don’t sweat it.”
He grinned and I think I melted. If I didn’t, then I wanted to. His easy-going attitude and that panty melting smirk had me thinking and picturing things I had no business picturing. He was a customer. I didn’t even know his name. He didn’t know mine. I was just a pathetic, horny woman. Even the illusion of interest was enough for me to squeeze my thunder thighs together as tightly as I could, hoping for a brief moment of relief.
Needing to get away from him as quickly as I could, I simply nodded at him before making my way back towards the bar. Halfway across the room, I detoured past the pool tables, collecting the empty glasses as I went. When I had a stack so high I could no longer reach the top, I started toward the kitchen. Two steps from the bar and a loud slap echoed through. Even louder than the chatter and laughter and the music playing in the background, the sound of a hand slapping my ass echoed.
“What the f—?” I spun around quickly. The glasses wobbled in my arm and I could have sworn I was about to drop the lot.
Now I was over the initial shock, my ass was stinging. I couldn’t believe some asshole thought it was okay to do that. Standing there wide-eyed, with tears of humiliation balancing precariously close to the edge of my eyes, I surveyed the men in front of me. They all looked extremely pleased with themselves. They were a ragtag bunch, in various stages of drunkenness. The unruly and unkempt beards they all wore weren’t in any way sexy. They were dressed in dirty khaki pants splattered with mud and god knows what else, heavy work boots, and matching fluoro orange shirts. There was absolutely nothing about them that turned me on. And the fact that one of them had thought it was perfectly acceptable to smack my ass as I passed by made me want to vomit. Or punch them in the face. Actually, punching them sounded like a better option.
“Apologise.”
Before I had a chance to register what was happening, I was nudged aside by a leather-clad shoulder demanding an apology. It was obvious he was new around here, but I kinda liked it. He was sticking up for me. Defending me. Being the gentleman that these other cavemen obviously weren’t.
Seeing the confused glances exchanged by the group of men, I got a sixth sense that this wasn’t going to end well for anyone. Grabbing the leather arm, I attempted to pull him away from the growing tension. He planted his feet and stood firm.
“Didn’t you understand me? I said apologise.”
“What’s it to you?” one of the gang asked cockily. I watched as he puffed his chest out, pretending to be the big man. It was all bullshit. He was shorter than me and was all skin and bone, well, except for the unappealing beer belly hanging over his belt buckle.
“That’s not how you treat a lady…”
“Lady, huh?” someone snorted.
Now I was pissed. I might not be a lady, hell, I knew that, but it didn’t mean I liked being treated like a piece of meat. Fuck, I might not think that highly of myself sometimes but even I knew I deserved better than that.
“Yeah, Josie’s no lady,” another added.
I could feel the rage coming off him in waves. I needed to diffuse this situation now before it exploded like a volcano. I could see it a mile away. My sexy, leather-clad defender was fuming, and I could feel him clenching his fist through the fabric covering his arm. The last thing I wanted was to see his sexy face get bruised because of some misplaced sense of duty.
“Please,” I begged. Even though it was barely audible, even to my own ears, he must have heard me because the moment he looked at me and our eyes met, something passed between us that set me alight. I wish I knew what it was or how I could explain it, but it was as combustible as gunpowder and more dangerous. “Please, come with me,” I pleaded again as I tugged on his arm.
Breaking our connection, he looked at the idiots in front of us, dropped his gaze, and shook his head sadly. In that moment I knew I’d won, he was coming with me, but at the same time it felt like I’d lost too. I didn’t have to know him to see that walking away without getting what he’d come for was destroying him. Hopefully I could convince him that not getting all bloodied up was worth it. And that I wasn’t. And I’ll be fucked if that realisation didn’t hurt like a bitch.
He let me lead him behind the bar and into the small office.
The moment we were both in the small, cluttered office, I heard the bang of the door as it was kicked shut behind us. Stepping behind the desk, I was desperate to put some distance between us. I could feel the rage burning off him like a furnace. Forcing myself to face him, I realised I wasn’t afraid. He was beyond pissed off, we were alone in the office, and I didn’t know him from a bar of soap, but somehow I knew I was safe with him. He wouldn’t hurt me. And he wouldn’t push me. When I took him in, he had his hands on his head and he was sucking in a loud, steadying breath. When I spotted the exposed strip of tanned skin and the trail of dark hair leading to his happy place, where his shirt had ridden up, I sucked in a breath of my own.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I told him, feeling guilty.
“You shouldn’t have to put up with that sort of shit,” he countered quickly.
He was right. I knew that. I shouldn’t have to, but it was part of the job. Not a part I enjoyed or liked at all, but it seemed inevitable. Usually it wasn’t this bad. Jenna wasn’t around, though. And it seemed like that made all the difference.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you?” His eyes were wide yet soft. There was compassion and concern there. It was definitely unsettling.
Unable to form words, I just nodded.
“I should go.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“Oh, okay.” My voice wavered. I didn’t want him to leave. I don’t know why I didn’t, the realisation shook me to my soul. “Thanks for—”
“Any time.” He cut me off with a dismissive wave. As he pulled open the door, I couldn’t stop myself. “What’s your name?”
The cheeky grin that consumed his face reached his eyes. I felt my cheeks burn under the scrutiny of his stare. He covered the distance between us and thrust his hand out. Placing my sweaty palm in his, he winked. He fucking winked. My underwear quickly became soaked. My traitorous body reacted to him in the most basic way. Really, he was lucky I didn’t push him down on the desk and ride him into the night.
“I’m Nathan. But my friends call me Nate.”
“Are we friends then?”
“We could be.”
He let go and vanished out the door before I had a chance to regather my scattered thoughts. This was crazy. It had been too long, obviously. All it took was someone showing me a little bit of compassion, a little bit of attention, and I was a goner. At least now I had his name. A name to put with the X-rated dreams I’d undoubtedly be having for the foreseeable future. A name to go with the ideas I’d be sharing with my battery operated boyfriend later tonight.