Chapter Four

DRAVEN

“I didn’t miss anything,” I say with a roll of my eyes. Glancing around him at the back table, I can see Barbie staring at us with daggers in her eyes. “Your date looks thirsty,” I quip. “So, what can I get you?”

He glares, shoving himself forward to lean across the bar.

God he looks good in that tight white shirt.

“What did that Armani Moron give you?” He hisses at me, eyeing the small bulge in my pants’ pocket.

At first, I am a little confused, then I realize he is referring to Mister Hottie in the three-piece. “A twenty,” I answer, not really sure why. I don’t owe this fool any explanations.

His jaw clenches before he smiks. A deep dimple forming in one cheek. “What else?”

My eyes narrow at him, my gaze stuttering on the impatient line of patrons behind him. “Do you want something or not?”

“What else did he give you?” He asks again.

He couldn’t possibly have noticed the little folded paper with the phone number on it, right?

“His number,” I say to him softly as his silver eyes fall toward my lips.

He jerks backward, still staring at my mouth. “One hard lemonade and two shots of Jack,” he says. Then ripping his eyes to the left, he glares at Mister Hottie’s table.

“Coming right up,” I say, turning around to grab the ingredients.

I can feel him watching me and I do my best to focus. It was all I could do to keep my momentum going and not spill anything with the fire of his eyes on my back.

“Let me have it,” Domonic commands from behind me, causing me to laugh as I mix lemon syrup and vodka in a hot glass from under the shelf.

“I’m not done making it,” I snipe, turning back around.

He grins at me, going full dimple and swiping two fingers over his chin. Then, giving me a stupidly sexy look, he says, “I’m talking about the guy’s phone number. Not the drinks.”

of many.” And it’s the truth. In just the few hours since we’d opened, I’ve already made four hundred in tips and collected twelve different phone numbers. Ten

them off the counter. “Have Bart meet me in the back room.” He slaps a hundred on the table

Make that four hundred-seventy-five.

heads back to Barbie. Sliding back into his seat, I notice he was still staring at me as I charm my way through the next five patrons. In fact, each time I look up I am met with his heavy lidded gaze.

damn that smile

next to me so suddenly, I have to suppress a scream. “You

I that

roll my eyes. “Your friend wants to see you in the

“My friend?”

startling me and causing me

eye and we

Seeing that they left the door slightly ajar, I scan the action around me. Satisfied that

as possible, I station myself between stacks of boxes just

is she still

does it look

I

remember. What’s the big deal?

need any strangers around here

she is contributing. Just look

“I’m aware.”

she’s really good. So, what’s the problem?

one last chance to

is your problem with her? She’s a

and she doesn’t belong

her and put a few more bruises on her body. Or maybe his son will. That might make you might feel

myslef for not swearing Bart to secrecy when I showed

fuck are you

saying – the men that she’s running from aren’t your everyday stepfather and son. She didn’t leave them because of some silly disagreement, or because she’s spoiled, or because she didn’t get her way. She left them because they were abusing

hitting the wall. Even the boxes shudder around

Dom! It’s not like that

it like then, huh? Did you

haven’t touched her! So let

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