Nauti Intentions

At eight that evening they had a full house, tables filled no sooner than they were emptied and cleaned, and a small waiting list on the off chance of a cancellation.



Janey was kept on her feet, moving through the restaurant, seating customers, fielding questions and comments. And compliments.



She was seating a table of six when she knew the night was going to go to hell.



It began with Natches and Alex walking up to the hostess station and standing, rather patiently. Natches wasn’t always patient. He was wearing his motorcycle chaps and a leather jacket, his hair was windblown, his face roughened from the cold. Alex was dressed in jeans and the long-sleeved gray striped shirt he had worn that morning, boots, and a hip-length leather jacket that absolutely did not do a damned thing to hide from Natches that hickey on his neck.



“I hope you enjoy your meal.” She smiled to the occupants of the table as they sat down and accepted



their menus. “Your server will be right with you.”



She turned, caught the eye of the waitress for that section, and motioned her over to the table before moving to the reception area.



Natches had that look in his eyes that warned everyone around him not to push him. Alex’s expression was pretty much as it had been when she left him that morning. Stony. Cool. He wasn’t pleased with her and that was just too bad.



“I don’t have any tables free, Natches,” she told her brother. “You and Alex will have to eat in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”



“I own the place. Surely I can have a table,” he drawled, drawing the attention of everyone close enough to hear them.



Hoyt spoke up behind her. “Ms. Mackay, we have a cancellation on table fourteen in twenty-five minutes.”



“And we have a waiting list.” She turned to her manager with a bright smile. “Perhaps you should call the Daltons and let them know we have a table if they can be here in time.”



Hoyt stared back at her helplessly before glancing to Natches and Alex. The younger man hero-worshipped both Natches and Alex. Turning them down would break his heart.



She rolled her eyes. “Fine. They can wait for the table in the office.” She turned back to Natches. “You can wait in the office.”



“You can come with us.”



Before she could avoid him, he had hold of her arm and was pulling her through the restaurant to the short hall and the large office past the restrooms.



Oh, this so wasn’t good. Natches hadn’t dragged her around like a puppy since she was five years old.



Unlocking the office door, he pushed her inside before following. At least he released her before moving into the well-appointed room with a disgusted breath.



“Bastard liked his comfort, didn’t he?” He stared around the office at the leather seating arrangement and glass table. The desk was Janey’s addition. Scarred and comfortable, it beat the contemporary modern glass one Dayle Mackay had had before his arrest.



“And I like keeping myself in comfort.” Janey propped her hand on her hip, flicked her gaze to where Alex leaned against the wall, his eyes narrowed on her, then back to Natches. “What the hell is up with this? I have work to do if you don’t mind, and dealing with you in a snit isn’t conducive to that job.”



“Stan Johnson called from the newspaper a few hours ago,” he informed her as he took a seat on the corner of her desk. “Says you put an ad in the paper.”



Janey lifted her chin before shooting Alex an accusing glance. “He wasn’t supposed to tell you.”



Natches shot her a hard grin. “He’s more scared of me than he is of you, sis. He squealed like a rat.”



Janey grimaced at the image. Actually, Johnson probably reminded some people of just that rodent.



“And how is this his business?” She nodded to Alex.



“You carry matching hickeys,” Natches snapped. “You made it his business.”



Great. She barely managed to keep from lifting her hand to cover the mark everyone had been staring at that evening.



“Like hell.” She shot Alex a scowl.



“We’re not going to argue over this,” Natches told her coldly. “I’ve done had my spat with Alex; I’m not following up with you. I’ll tell you the same thing I told him.”



“And that is?” She jerked her head to him, feeling the anger beginning to clench inside her.



“When you hire a new manager, this place closes down,” he told her. “I’ll burn the bastard to the ground as I should have six months ago. You got me?”



“You’re not the only owner, Natches.” Janey could feel it. She hated it. She could feel the anger beginning to build, to crash past the shield she kept around it. “Don’t walk in here and think you can order me around, because I won’t fight with you. I’ll call your wife.”



There was a long, slow blink of outraged green eyes.



“You did not just threaten to tell Chaya on me,” he growled.



“It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise.” She shrugged. “Now I need to get back to work.”



“Janey.” His voice stopped her. It was somber, serious.



“What?”



“You wouldn’t actually leave me, would you?”



She looked away, then breathed out roughly. “I don’t know, Natches,” she finally whispered, shaking her head. “Right now I just don’t know. I know when I open the banquet room for more tables, I’m going to need more help. If I give up the managerial side and just take over the paperwork and other business areas, then it will free my time up some. I’m not thinking past that right now.”



She couldn’t, until she knew if there was a baby or not.



“She’s not going anywhere. I told you that,” Alex stated, still watching her.



Natches flicked Alex a look, then turned his gaze back to her. Thoughtful, almost calculating, his silent regard made her nervous as hell. Natches crossed his ankle over his knee and watched her intently.



“I have work to do.”



“We’re talking,” Natches informed her tightly.



“No, we’re not talking. You’re trying to intimidate me. Both of you are and I’m not having it.” She rounded on him, anger pulsing in every beat of her blood now. “Why? Last I heard you wanted me away from him anyway because he was too old for me.” She pointed imperiously to Alex. “So why the hell are you letting a damned hickey decide if he gets to watch you knock me down a peg or two?”



Hurt resounded through her. She felt berated, humiliated, like a child that had stepped out of line. And he had done it in front of her lover.



“Janey, that isn’t what I’m doing.” Natches stiffened as Alex frowned back at her.



“That’s what both of you are doing,” she rasped. “Treating me like a child who doesn’t have the good sense to run her own life. I don’t need you to tell me where to stay or how to make a decision, Natches.



And I sure as hell don’t need you telling me how to do it.” She turned to Alex, angrier at him perhaps than she was at Natches.



Natches was her brother. He just didn’t know how to act any other way. But she had expected more from Alex. Expected him to let her be a woman, his woman, if only for a little while. But one who had his respect if nothing else.



“Janey . . .” Natches was rising from his chair, that determined look in his eyes again.



“Go to hell,” she muttered. “Burn the damned place to the ground. See if I care what you do with it. But right now I have a job to do. And that doesn’t include fighting with you.”



He jerked to his feet.



“The next moron that grips my arm and drags me somewhere is getting clawed,” she warned him furiously. “Touch me, either one of you, and I swear to God, I’m going to get violent.”



She had to fight the tears, the sob that trapped in her throat, because her brother was doing the one thing guaranteed to come between them. He was trying to control her.



She strode quickly to the door, aware of Alex straightening, his body tense. Jerking it open, she turned to him, staring up at him, hurting inside so bad she wanted to find a corner to hide in rather than face everyone who had watched Natches drag her around like a little kid.



“Sleeping with you doesn’t make me your puppet,” she told him roughly. “Never imagine it does, Alex.



And the next time you sic my brother on me, then you won’t be anywhere near me. I don’t care if the entire Army National Guard is stalking me.”



She stepped back into the hall, slammed the door furiously behind her, and walked quickly back to the restaurant.



As the door slammed, Alex turned slowly to Natches. He was standing in front of the chair, his expression heavy, lined now with something akin to grief.



He’d had no idea what the other man was doing. Natches had called as he arrived at the restaurant with a brief “We have a problem. Meet me at the restaurant.”



Hell, he should have demanded explanations first.



“I should kick your ass, Natches,” he growled. “What the fuck was in your mind? Did you really think this was going to get me thrown out of her life without hurting her?”



Natches ran his hands wearily over his hair and scowled back at Alex. “Maybe I wanted to see if you



were willing to fight for her. You’re just going to let her walk away, aren’t you? Fucking tough-assed Alex Jansen. Doesn’t need any one woman. You’re going to break her heart.”



Alex shook his head. “If I break her heart, she’ll survive it. If you break it, it will scar her forever. Is that what you want?”



Alex didn’t know whether to hit the other man or feel sorry for him. Natches looked as though someone had just dropped a boulder on him. Alex understood the feeling. Janey had managed to do the same damned thing to him that morning.



Natches sneered back at him. “She wasn’t like this until you came around. She used to listen to me.”



“And now she doesn’t obey you so well, is that it, Natches?” Alex asked, his tone acerbic. “Pull this shit on her again, and I’ll send you home to Chaya with a few less perfect fucking teeth. Now I’m going to go try dinner.”



“Alex.”



He paused before turning back to Janey’s brother.



Natches was a man tormented, and Alex understood it, to a degree. Alex’s sister had married into the Mackays eventually. But he’d had to watch a part of her die for years when she was younger, because of the very same man she had ultimately married. He hadn’t forgotten what it felt like.



He shook his head. “I’m serious about this, Natches. Just as I’m serious about her. I didn’t walk into this intending on walking away later.”



“You love her?” Natches frowned, an edge of disbelief in his voice.



Love. Son of a bitch. That word was being thrown around like a bone to a favorite hound.



“As much as I can love anyone,” he finally stated wearily. “I’m committed. That’s going to have to be enough for you.”



He was going to have to find a way to make it enough for Janey.



Janey wasn’t in the mood to be pacified. She was aware of Hoyt showing Natches and Alex to the table they had been given, close to the hall that led to the restrooms and then the office. Just as she was aware of the waitress that rushed to serve them.



The little blonde was a favorite of customers at the restaurant. She was chatty, just a little flirty, and always polite. Tonight, she was more than a little flirty. She was all smiles and batting eyelashes. It was enough to have Janey gritting her teeth in irritation. Not that either Natches or Alex seemed to be encouraging it. Alex watched Janey. Natches glared at Alex. And weren’t they all just having a damned good time.



Shaking her head, Janey turned the hostess station over to Hoyt and made her way back to the kitchen to check things there. Desmond was a godsend. Though he was originally from New York, she’d managed to snag him when she caught a sniff of a rumor that he was looking to take over his own kitchen, to rule his own roost, so to speak. She’d made him an offer, done a lot of begging, and promised him total control if he would pay attention to more country cuisine than international and find a way to blend them when possible.