“No, that’s amazing. So how come you’re not doing this deck?”
She motioned to her uncle on the mower. “I don’t mix family with work. They’ve been supportive, but Uncle Art still can’t wrap his head around the fact his only niece used to reject Barbies for a hammer and nails. It’s better this way. I need to work on my résumé.”
“Have you found a job yet?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. Thinking of taking on some projects myself and trying to build a name.”
He scratched his head, his thoughts whirling. “I work for Pierce Brothers. Why don’t you stop by the office and fill out an application? Tell Sydney I sent you. We’d probably only offer part-time to start.”
Her face brightened, and he was struck again by the blast of animation from her figure. Almost like she was filled with light, and it poured out of her. Now where had that analogy come from? “Okay, I’m going to try real hard not to freak out with excitement or you will think I’m in high school. I appreciate it. I’ll bring over my portfolio.”
“If you have one of those, you’re already ahead of the game.”
“Thanks. Umm, can I ask you one more thing?”
“Sure.”
“Would you like to grab a meal together sometime? Lunch, or dinner, or even coffee?” A touch of pink hit her cheeks, and she shifted from foot to foot as the words flew out of her mouth. “God, don’t think I’m trying to ask you out on a date or something, it’s just I don’t know too many people and I’d love to learn more about your company and just the layout of Harrington. Are you scared of me yet?”
He chuckled. “You’ll have to work a lot harder to scare me. Sure.” He took a card out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Here. Call me next week.”
“Thanks! I’m going to get out of your way now.”
She bounded down the stone path, waving madly to her uncle, and disappeared.
Oh, yeah. Morgan was probably going to like her.
Chapter twenty
Hey, Raven. I’ve been a bad boy. Come give me an ass whoopin’!”
The guy turned around, flashed his naked ass, and fell into hysterical hoots of laughter with his college friends.
Here we go again . . .
Without pause, she flashed her best come-hither smile, leaned over the bar, and crooked her finger. “Come over here, gorgeous,” she purred.
Awestruck that he could score, he covered his ass back up and stuck his face over the bar. She thought about throwing him out for the nudity, but he was harmless and friends with the regular crew who haunted her bar. She’d take care of it her way.
“I’m here. Whatcha got for me?”
He practically licked his lips in anticipation.
So did Raven.
“How about an ass coolin’ instead, baby?”
She dumped half a glass of ice water over his head.
The bar erupted in supportive shouts and laughter. The guy spluttered and stared in shock, caught between male temper and embarrassment. In her usual move, she took the sting away by pushing a shot glass of her full-powered whiskey at him.
“Show your ass again in here and you won’t be back.” She flashed another smile. “Here, this one’s on the house.”
His friends clapped him on the shoulders as if welcoming him into the rejection club, and his shoulders relaxed. They knew the drill and easily filled him in, and in seconds he flicked back the whiskey and gave her a thumbs-up, his wet hair still dripping in his face.
Just a typical Wednesday night.
Raven worked her way down the bar. The crowd had easily doubled since everyone heard about her tussle with the gunman. It might be a bit awkward to be hailed as a heroine from that scary night, but she was raking in the money. A few more nights at this rate, and she’d easily be able to afford the high-tech alarm system that was being installed tomorrow.
Not a bad bargain.
She headed into the kitchen, checking in quickly with the servers, and called out to Al.
He didn’t answer. Back stiff, he kept flipping burgers and working his station with a half-mad fury. Something had changed between them. When she’d called him about closing Tuesday and told him about the gunman, he’d freaked out but seemed supportive. Now there was a brewing distance she couldn’t seem to breach. After briefly looking her over as if to confirm she wasn’t hurt, he’d refused to talk or meet her gaze. It was almost like he was mad at her, but she knew that was impossible.
“Al!”
“Yeah?”
“Dude, why aren’t you listening to me? I want to check if you need anything from supply.”
“Don’t need nothing.”
“Al, are you mad at me for something?”
“Nope.”
She let out an aggravated breath but had no time to press him. Already Amanda was rushing in, pinning more tickets to the pass and grabbing plates to serve. Raven swore to push him for an answer later and hurried back to the bar.
Then stopped short as her gaze hit ocean-blue eyes full force. Oh, he was smoking hot tonight. There was something deliciously dangerous about his aura, set off by a black tank top that left his sculpted arms and chest available for drooling purposes and tight jeans that told a woman exactly what he was packing. His tawny hair was loose but slicked back from his forehead, emphasizing the sweep of his brow and the long line of his nose. His dimples flashed as he gave her a slow, purposeful smile, full of wicked meaning.
God, she hoped he wasn’t just a big tease.
She’d had a wonderful time with her aunt. The play was amazing, and they’d dined at Carmine’s, feasting on Italian food served family style. Three of Aunt Penny’s friends had joined them, and she’d loved talking about theater and the behind-the-scenes politics that made her laugh so hard her ribs hurt. She and her aunt had spent the night at the Waldorf Astoria and ordered room service for breakfast that cost a billion dollars, and she’d arrived back home more settled, and ready to attack work that day with a clear mind.
Problem was, she missed Dalton.
Bad.
She’d dreamed of him last night. Dreamed he’d snuck into her room, climbed into her bed, and stripped her naked while she slept. Dreamed he’d pushed her thighs apart and buried his mouth at the heart of her, licking and sucking until she came hard against his tongue. Dreamed he’d pushed inside of her, pinned her wrists to the mattress, and fucked her like he owned her.
Her skin tingled as she leaned her elbows on the bar and gave him a smile back. “Hey, Slick.”
His eyes darkened, and he got that hungry look on his face. His voice was a touch ragged. “Hey, darlin’.” They stared at each other, not needing words, as if they each knew the other’s intimate language. “Another busy night. How was your big city outing with your aunt?”
She smiled. “It was nice to spend some quality time with her. She’s leaving tomorrow, though. Rehearsals begin on Broadway.”
“I like her. She cares about you.”
Raven nodded. “She does. Took care of me after my father passed. Put up with my crap. Still loved me.”
He reached out and ran a finger down her arm, as if he couldn’t stand to not touch her. “Not surprised. You’re easy to love.”
She sucked in a breath. He snatched his hand back, shock reflecting in those baby blues.
“Can we get another round down here?” someone shouted.
The spell broke, and Raven hurried away. It didn’t mean anything. She knew how easily words spilled from lips with no action or intention behind them. She also knew the psychology of a traumatic event increasing bonding hormones, especially between a male and a female. It was textbook.
The night flew by as she took care of the customers, kept up a light banter with Dalton, and sold a crapload of her special raspberry-mint cocktail. Amanda sailed past her, a frustrated expression on her face. Raven reached out and touched her arm.
“You okay? Anyone giving you trouble?”
She blew out a breath. “Yeah, Al. He’s out smoking again, and got snippy with me. What’s up with him?”
“I don’t know. He refuses to talk to me.”
Dalton rose from his stool. “I need some air myself. Let me check on him. Could be guy stuff.”