I woke up blinking my eyes, wrapped in a pair of incredibly strong arms. His face hovered above me, while his hand smoothed back my hair.

What. The. Fuck.

I dug my boots into the floor and strained to back up away from him.

“I think you need to sit down and have some water,” he said, while pulling me back against him.

“I can’t—”

The smell of him was overwhelming, and my nostrils strained to breath him in.

I’d been around him at work enough to know his musky scent. The same smell that my body recognized when he was at work in his office. Even when I didn’t see him during my shift, that fucking smell let me know he was there. I thought the memory of its uniqueness had faded with his absence, but as I inhaled him, I knew I would always recognize it.

When I gazed at him, a deep longing, much like the feelings I’d experienced after learning about his death, tore through me. All the emotions came crashing down over me in that one moment. He was here, his body pressed against mine, his scent making me whimper.

“It’s okay. Sit first and we’ll talk,” he said, while maneuvering me to a chair in front of his desk. “Of all the people—shit this isn’t good.”

My butt firmly in the chair, I gaped at him and watched him move around the room to retrieve a bottled water out of a cooler.

He twisted the cap open and came back to squat in front of me.

“Drink this.”

I took it from him and swallowed a huge gulp that I coughed on.

“But how are you alive, Ca—”

He gave me a stern look. “Mark. Always Mark here. It’s complicated. Do you want something to eat?”

His eyes swept down my body, lingering enough to cause my senses to come alive even in my shock.

“Eat?”

“Yeah, eat. It looks like you need to eat. Have you been starving yourself?” he growled.

I shook my head, trying to clear my scattered thoughts. “No. I’m fine.”

He stood up and reached across his desk. The end of his shirt hiked up in front of me. I saw the edge of a tattoo across his hip and disappear up his back.

What the hell was happening? This wasn’t reality. Maybe I’d drifted off in the car and I was still asleep.

I pinched myself on the arm several times.

He laughed. “What are you doing, tiny girl?”

“This is a dream. Has to be.”

He brought the plate over and set it in my lap. Squatting in front of me again, he took a piece of sliced apple and motioned toward my face.

I shook my head, frowning at him. Who was this guy?

He rolled his eyes and sighed. His other hand touched the side of my face, pulling at my jaw until I opened my lips. I winced a little from the contact with my bruise as the apple slice was gently put in my mouth.

He narrowed his eyes at me, scanning my face. “Are you okay?”

“Okay? Really? Is that a serious question?”

“You flinched.”

“I have a fucking toothache,” I lied as I continued to chew and study his face. How the hell was this even possible?

“Eat,” he ordered, as he glanced at the clock on the wall. “Fuck, we don’t have time to talk. The bar is opening in about five minutes. Why are you here?”

Finishing the last bit of apple, I managed to swallow without choking on it.

The more I thought about the situation, the more I became angry. How dare he? Did he know what kind of hell he’d put people through at home?

“I work here, jerk. Gary sent me in with your food. I’m assuming so you could give me the pass or fail bullshit.”

He grimaced. “We were expecting a Sonya. Her experience wasn’t great on paper.”

I frowned at him. “Well you got me. Paperwork mix-up according to Gary. Does it matter?”

He eyed me for a minute before gaining his feet. His tired, brown eyes seemed to say something that I couldn’t interpret, as he studied my face.

“Yes, it matters. You fail. You need to stay the fuck away from this bar.”

I picked up the plate and set it on the desk with a little more force than I intended. When I stood up, I was reminded of his height compared to mine. He was well over six foot compared to my five-foot eight frame.

I poked my finger into his chest and started jabbing at a solid wall of muscle that didn’t budge.

“Fuck you. You don’t get to dictate anything in my life. Especially now. You have no idea what it was like. Not one bit.”

A small smirk pulled at the side of his lips as his eyes roamed my face then slid down to my jabbing finger.

“You are the most terrible man on the planet! I can’t even think about what sort of person would put his friends and family through what you did. Do you have any idea how much damage and grief you’ve caused? I’m staying on this job until I can find something else just to piss you off. Don’t come near me, and don’t even think about talking to me!”

He moved closer and I flinched as his hand slid around my hip. His other one grabbed my hand that I was poking him with and held on to it.

“I missed you, Suzie,” he said with a laugh. “You have no idea how much I wish I could go back and do some things differently.”

“Wha…? Fuck off, jerk,” I retorted, while trying to pull free of his hard grip.

His face dipped down to mine and he ran his lips across my mouth. My body immediately reacted by tensing, and tingles shot up my lower back.

“Are you sure?” he asked against my lips. I could tell he was smiling.

I wrenched back from him using the leverage of my hips to twist away.

My hand shot out and I slapped him.

“That’s for making everyone think you were dead, Cade.”

He chuckled as if my slap hadn’t fazed him in the slightest.

“It’s Mark here. Always Mark. We’ll talk later and set some things straight. Just trust me, and I’ll explain. Work here tonight, and we’ll find you something else in town. Like a flower shop, where no one can hear that mouth of yours, and you couldn’t possibly be a pain in the ass to anyone.”

I growled at him and started to storm away.

His hand slid around my waist and he hauled me back against him. I could feel every hard line of him against me as he pressed into my body.

Against the side of my cheek, he whispered, “I meant everything I said. I wish I’d done things differently.”

I shoved his hand away and he didn’t resist. When I got to the door, I paused to scowl at him.

“You don’t get a do-over in life, Cade. If you fuck it up, it’s all on you to carry that burden around. How could you? Why would you do this?”

He took two steps toward me. “I can explain, just stay tonight and we’ll talk later, I promise.”

I yanked the door open, considering leaving altogether and calling every single person that knew him to scream at all of them. Had they fucking known? Leaving me in the dark seemed like a cruel fucking thing to do. I could feel his hot gaze on my back as I stomped down the hallway, his muffled footsteps coming closer as he stalked behind me.

Gary was leaning against one of the kitchen counters with his arms folded across his chest. His gaze fell on me, then over my shoulder, and his eyebrows shot up.

“She’s fine, Gary,” Cade barked. “For tonight.”

I nodded at Gary as I stopped in front of him.

“Any particular uniform?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady and not sound as irritated as I really was.

Gary’s eyes were still focused behind me as Cade passed and exited the kitchen. The door opened then closed rather forcibly.

“He takes some getting used to, but Mark is an exceptional manager. Whatever he said, I’m sure he’ll get over it. Nice to have you on board.”

He finally looked at me and smiled.

I gave him a tight nod. “Yeah, I’ve worked for a few Mark type managers in my past. I’m not worried about it.”

“Good, then do you know where you’ll be?”

“Not a clue.”

“Okay we’ll start you off in the main area then until Mark decides on something different. You’re fine in what you’re wearing unless you want to change. You have a little bit of time before people start wandering in. It’s a pretty casual place for the most part, but we do have a black waist apron for change, tips, notepads or whatever you feel comfortable with."

I thought about my bag in the car. I had a change of clothing in there, but I hadn’t planned on wearing it.

I'd thought that Rounders was going to be a little more conservative and didn’t think it was a club. The attire in the bag was more appropriate for a club atmosphere. I’d planned on changing into it before I left work, so I could be comfortable on the drive back home, and not smell like food or whatever else I might get on me during my shift.

If I counted how many times a beer had been splashed on me, or someone had splattered me with food, I'd have been a rich woman.

“Uhm, yeah I have some extra clothes in the car that I think I should change into.”

Gary motioned to a different set of doors down the hallway toward the manager’s office.

“Breakroom and employee restrooms. We have lockers, just bring a lock if you want to keep stuff safe. You look fine right now, but I know you girls like to wear different attire. It’s fine, just make sure you’re appropriately covered. If you run into trouble, one of the guys will take care of it, and believe me when I say they don’t mess around. Especially Mark.”

I grimaced. “I bet. I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll just go get changed. Where were the hip aprons?”

“Breakroom, cleaned every night and brought back to wear. Mark insists on it.”

That sounded like the Cade I knew. He was apparently as OCD as ever. He’d done the same thing at Muse when he was the partial owner and manager there.

Fuck. He was alive this whole time. My irritation with him in the office was only the tip of the iceberg.

The things that had happened to me in my life didn’t compare to this. Those things, although rough and completely devastating in a lot of ways, didn’t come close to this.

I had no idea why.

Maybe it was the fact that he seemed fine. When people died, the friends and family left behind grieved and healed. Memories turned into precious things. The dead didn’t just come back to tell you to sit down and eat an apple.

He was alive, and I should feel some elation at that news. Which I did, but it was mixed with a fair amount of “I was going to kill him all over again” vibes.

Asshole.

I nodded at Gary and headed for the door. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Good luck!”

When I stepped into the main room, loud music greeted me. The lights were turned very low, only the bars and dancefloor were lit up for the most part.

It was enough low-lighting to do my job, but it definitely felt more like a club suddenly.

The TVs in the sports bar area were turned on, a few customers already seated watching a football game. It seemed like Scott was busy making drinks, as one of the younger servers took orders.

Passing through the main room, I noted where the two bars in the room were set up, and who was at each. Duke was at the end nearest to the door, with one of the servers helping him set up the counter. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Cade had set up further into the room at the other bar and was busy stocking liquor with his back to me.

Good, I didn’t want to look at him anyway.

I made my way to the doors and met a nice, older woman named, Lana, who was manning a high-top desk set back into the wall. There was a glass partition between her and about ten guests that were currently filtering in and paying for admission.

She nodded at me when I told her who I was, so that I could get back in without trouble.

If the place was already getting a few people this early in the night, then I wondered what it would be like later.

I dug my phone out of my pocket and dialed my mom as I made my way across the dusky parking lot. I was planning on staying the entire shift now that I knew what the score was. Gary hadn’t been specific on the phone, but I assumed it was at least until the bar closed. I thought it was going to be earlier, but club hours were totally different.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Hey, Mom. It looks like I’ll be here past midnight. I’ll shut it down tonight and you know the gig. Lock the doors, keep the phone beside your bed, etc.”

“I definitely know the routine. You need to try some college, so you don’t have to work those jobs the rest of your life and end up like your mom.”

I laughed.

My mom had been a waitress for most of her life. That’s how she’d met my dad. One night, on her shift in a diner, he’d come in and swept her off her feet. Quite literally apparently, after tripping into her when he slipped on her freshly mopped floor. Then, according to both of them, the sparks flew, the sun rose, and they'd gotten married three months later.

“I have the best mom in the world, so I don’t mind at all being just like her.”

“Remember that when your back is aching at my age, sweetie,” she laughed. “Be safe and kick some ass.”

“Sure will, Mom. Love you.”

After I hung up, I grabbed my bag out of my trunk, and made sure I had what I needed.

I hesitated, wondering if I should just blow this whole thing off and leave. Gary would be short staffed, but the need to just get in my car and drive as fast as I could in the opposite direction was overwhelming. It would be a statement to Cade that I was pissed if he didn’t know it already. I should have punched him and left. The other half of me wanted to be around him, growl at him, flip him off, and be irritating as hell. And if I was honest with myself, just be near him for a little while. My brain said leave, but my traitorous heart said stay.

Grabbing my bag, I hefted it over my shoulder. My heart won out and I hoped I didn’t regret it. When I passed by the front windshield, I noticed a small envelope stuck between the wiper and glass.

I pulled it off and examined it. There was a crude drawing of a heart on the front. Scanning the parking lot, I didn’t see any other vehicles with the same thing. No flyers advertising late night restaurants or strange envelopes.

Opening it, small heart-shaped paper cut outs fell to the ground and over the hood. I grabbed a larger one and lifted it into the dim light of the parking lot. It had one sentence on it.

I’ll steal your heart.

Frowning, I turned it over several times. Some customer had clearly had a little too much to drink already and messaged the wrong woman. I put the larger heart back in the envelope and slid it under the wiper of the vehicle beside me. Both cars looked similar and it was possible someone had gotten them mixed up.

When I re-entered, several people were crowded around Cade at his bar, and there were a few patrons wandering out from the sports room.

I ducked my head and walked quickly to the breakroom to get changed.

The aprons were fresh and I almost suspected that he might have ironed them. He’d always impressed me with his attention to detail, especially his tidiness. Ironing waist smocks was going a little far, though. I wouldn’t put it past him, but it was a little excessive.

I glanced at myself in the bathroom mirror after I changed. I wasn’t eighteen anymore, but I felt like I was still young enough to attract some decent tips. A little flirting was the key. People didn’t just want a normal waitress. They wanted one they could either look at, or banter with. It took a certain attitude either way. I’d never had a problem, but I’d seen plenty of servers fail miserably.

Giving myself a serious look in the mirror, I adjusted my ponytail like a seasoned veteran preparing for battle. Tonight, was going to be interesting. Especially with my new manager.

Mark. Cade. Was it a middle name? Why was he being weird about it?

He hadn’t seen me in the pair of cut off shorts that I was wearing. Actually, he'd really only ever seen me in what I always wore to Muse. Mostly conservative and professional attire. They weren’t so short that I would be embarrassed, but short enough that they cut off at my upper thigh. I hadn’t had the confidence to wear them much until three months ago. But they were awesome on me now. Paired with the cherry red top, the outfit was cute, and I was covered, but hopefully it still stirred the imagination.

I changed out of my boots and into a black pair of running shoes. I tied the smock around my waist, shoved my bag in a random locker, and headed out to the main room through the kitchen.

When I stepped through the doors, I bumped into one of the other girls.

“Oof, sorry!”

“It’s okay,” she said with a smile. “It happens, but luckily very rarely. I was too close to the door. My name is Michelle, and you’re Suzanne, right?”

I nodded. Michelle was a bright eyed, brunette that I suspected was only a couple of years younger than I was. She’d been helping Duke get set up earlier.

“Do you know where I’m assigned tonight or who has that information?”

Her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Mark didn’t tell you?”

“Uhm, no. When we talked earlier, he neglected to mention it.”

He’d been too busy picking me up off the floor.

She pointed over to where he was working. “He’s right over there, but I think you’re working around Duke’s side. I usually take the back. Mark has a map, though, so you can learn it. If we overlap a little, that’s okay.”

She was very friendly, and I was glad to be working an area where someone knew the drill. Sometimes tables got mixed up on a night when a new server hit the floor. But based on her input, it appeared straight forward. It was nice of her to let me know, though.

“Thanks, Michelle, I’ll go check with Mark, but I think I get the layout. If you need any help at all, let me know.”

She winked at me. “You got it, girl.”

I smiled and walked toward Cade’s bar. He was standing behind the counter listening to a woman as she leaned over in her seat. If her eyes were any more glued to him she would be flat against his chest.

Whatever. It was the nature of the business. It’s not like I hadn’t seen it before when we were working together in Lakefield. It wasn’t likely going to be the last time if I stayed here.

I checked the tables toward the front of the bar and didn’t see anyone that needed anything quite yet. Putting a practiced little swing to my hips I headed past Cade, and his doting fan, toward Duke’s counter.

He smiled at me when I approached and gave me a chin lift.

“Hey there, Red. You’ve come to work with the best.”

He said this while opening his arms wide and motioning to himself. If he’d beat his chest and declared himself king of the jungle it wouldn’t have surprised me.

I leaned against the countertop and laughed. “Jesus, you remind me so much of a bartender I just got done working with.”

He leaned over the counter, resting his elbows on the wooden surface and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Did he get lucky?”

Normally I might have been offended, but he really was just like Pete. Flirtatious, but harmless.

“Who got lucky?!” a deep angry growl demanded from behind me.

Duke backed up and got serious suddenly. “Hey, boss.”

I turned around slowly and leaned against the counter with my elbow on the bar. My other hand rested on my hip.

Cade was standing a couple of feet behind me, with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked furious as his eyes skimmed down the length of my body.

I gave him a bored smile and tilted my head. “Hey, Mark. We were just talking about frisky bartenders.”

His eyes snapped back to mine, then glared over my shoulder at Duke.

I motioned behind me, toward the poor man who was probably about to spontaneously combust from the glare Cade was giving him.

“Duke here is smart enough not to mess with a redhead. Unlike other people,” I gave him an intentional look. “Right, Duke?”

“Uh huh,” he replied from over my shoulder.

Cade’s eyes swung back to me and his jaw twitched as he clenched it.

I batted my eyelashes at him and studied him from head to toe, while arching one of my eyebrows.

“Thanks for the talk, boss.”

His frown deepened as I brushed past him, and I felt the slightest touch of his breath hitting my face.

“Later, Suzie,” he growled quietly.