Sweet Revenge Page 6

  “Are you listening?” She kept her eyes closed.

  “Always.” The night wasn’t quiet for him. He heard people blocks away, cars a mile away, and even animals prowling the forests far away. There was no true quiet. “That was nice earlier—you feeding people who needed food.”

  “Making soup is no big deal, and you sound… sad.” She opened her eyes and turned toward him, studying him. “What haunts you?” she asked softly.

  He drew in air. “Too much.”

  Her chin lifted. “Yeah.”

  Was she haunted, too? By the death of her brother, or by something else? He tried to read her eyes, to get those answers he was beginning to need as much as want. Deep and green, they glowed with a vulnerability that made Matt want to draw her close, when he should be turning away. Losing her brother seemed to have taken a toll, and as much as Matt wanted to heal her, he couldn’t. He didn’t know how. “Do you suppose some people live without ghosts haunting them?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

  “I’m not sure.” She sidled a little closer as a breeze swept by. “Was the brother you lost your only brother?”

  Training dictated he lie. “No. I have two other brothers.” Who’d kill him for issuing that statement, as they should. He’d just met this woman and knew better than to trust anybody.

  “How did your brother die?” she asked.

  “He was a soldier… and was shot.” Close enough to be the truth. What Matt didn’t know was if Jory had really died, or if he was still alive, as Shane believed. Chances were, the youngest Gray brother was buried in an unmarked grave somewhere. “It’s my fault he died. I didn’t protect him.”

  “Ah.” Laney snuggled closer, her fingers tightening on his. “Even if you couldn’t have protected him, that must hurt.”

  His breath caught. The fact that she hadn’t offered platitudes or not-your-fault statements warmed him. He felt what he felt, and the fact that she acknowledged his reality made her unique… even more unique than he’d thought. “I like you.”

  “I’m imminently likable.” Her gaze dropped to his lips.

  Bad idea. Very bad idea. Keeping her hand, he turned more toward her and tangled his free hand through her hair.

  Her lids fluttered to half-mast. “This is not a good idea,” she murmured. Her voice deepened to a tone beyond sexy. She bit her lip, leaving a little indent he wanted to lick.

  “Talking to the choir here.” His entire body went into overdrive. He needed her to push him away, to be smart enough for the both of them.

  But her eyes shut completely as she swayed toward him. No force could prevent him from leaning into her and brushing her lips with his. Soft, so sweet, her mouth was a temptation a man couldn’t resist. Especially a damaged man with a ticking clock over his head. So he fisted her hair, tethering her, and went deep. Much deeper than he had any right to go. He kissed her hard, sweeping his tongue inside for a taste.

  That one taste shot through his skin, through his heart, and settled strong. She tasted like honey and hope.

  She whimpered in the back of her throat, and the vibration of sound almost snapped his control. He could get lost in this woman. Going even deeper, he slid his free hand beneath her shirt, almost groaning at the heated skin along her delicate ribs. He wanted to kiss each one, to lick his way down to—

  The door opened behind him, and he released Laney to jump up between her and danger.

  Smitty stood there, garbage bag in hand, eyebrows raised. “You two takin’ the night off?”

  Jesus. Matt hadn’t heard his footsteps. He’d been so involved in the kiss he’d let down his guard—something he’d never done. Ever. “No. Just getting air.” Without looking back, he brushed by Smitty and headed into heat and noise—away from temptation. It would take hours for the hard-on he was sporting to go down. He was on a mission, damn it. His brothers and their survival trumped whatever feelings clawed through him. No matter how sweet and appealing Laney became.

  Chapter 5

  Laney’s knees wobbled as she hurried back into the bar. Actually wobbled. Matt’s kiss had been like a shot of hard whiskey—warming her everywhere and stealing her breath. Her body ached, and her mind spun.

  Even worse, when he’d held her hand so tightly, her heart had softened. Just for him. The wounded, lost soldier was a temptation she had to resist. Her life was in disarray, and allowing a broken man into it was a horrible idea. Especially since she fought to keep herself from breaking again.

  But that kiss.

  Searing, sexy, and searching, he’d conveyed more than simple desire when he’d held her in place.

  He’d made her want more than just the moment, more than just the physical release he all but promised her. The combination of restrained strength and deliberate gentleness had reached down deep in her heart and taken hold.

  The man was as wounded as a man could be and as temporary as a storm. He wasn’t a guy who stuck around.

  He’d leave soon, but maybe she could capture a piece of him to keep her company. She needed more than ever to get a couple of pictures of him before he left. The dangerous hollows in his face combined into a lethally handsome combination with all shadows and light—a true temptation for any photographer. For any woman.

  Kissing him was stupid… Anything more would be disastrous.

  Her body didn’t care about disasters and only wanted the relief he’d promised in his kiss. A tidal-wave, hurricane-sized, orgasmic relief.

  She ducked into her office to grab some aspirin. A folded note on her keyboard caught her eye. What the heck? Her hand trembled as she opened the paper: I can’t wait to see your eyes glazed over with passion. I’m still watching…

  Terror and fury roared through her. Some asshole had violated her private office? Her sanctuary?

  How was this even possible? There had been people in the bar all day. Whoever the note maker was, he masked himself well.

  She crumpled the note and shoved it in her pocket. The idea of going to the police held some merit, but she couldn’t take the risk of exposure.

  Raised voices toward the dartboard brought her up short. Turning, she sighed. Two burly men stood nose to nose and shouted profanities—something about a borrowed tractor. She was so not in the mood. Steeling her shoulders, she marched out of the office and up to them.

  Just in time to duck as a beefy arm swept toward her head, the fist aimed at the other guy’s face.

  Then things happened too fast to track.

  A hard arm banded around her waist and set her out of the way. A heartbeat later, Matt had both men on their knees, one with an arm behind his back, one with an odd hold on his neck.

  Both men whimpered, and one drooled.

  Wow. Laney blinked and shook her head. That was unreal. She held both hands out to diffuse the situation. “Whoa, there. Let’s calm down.” Her gaze rose to Matt’s face, and she froze.

  The man was beyond calm. No anger, no fear, no expression. He’d put down two hulking men with minimal effort and no emotion. “I believe these gentlemen were heading home,” he said.

  One guy gurgled his agreement. The other guy whimpered again.

  “It’s good we agree.” Matt released them, and the two scrambled to their feet, almost running each other over to get out of the bar. A step forward, and Matt manacled her arm in an unbreakable grip. “Boss? I’d like a word.” Without waiting for an answer, he maneuvered her through the bar to the back door.

  She tried to concentrate as the walls blurred by. Before she could protest, they stood outside on the steps.

  He released her and whirled around. While he’d been calm inside, now fire lanced through his odd gray eyes. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”

  She swallowed and stepped back. “Excuse me?”

  He towered over her, hands on hips, all furious male. “Getting in the middle of a bar fight with men twice your size. You hired me for a reason, right?”

  “Well, yes.” Why was he so angry? She ti
lted her head to the side as irritation filled her. He had no right to question her. “If there’s an altercation in my bar, I need to step in.”

  “No.” His voice lowered to a growl. “If there’s a fight, you call me over. You do not step in.”

  She frowned. Fury stretched awake inside her, but she kept it in check, keeping control. The idea of losing control of her environment worried her more than the rock-hard male in front of her. “You know you work for me, right?”

  “Listen, lady”—red spiraled across his high cheekbones—“you hired me to bounce problems, which I can’t do if your sweet ass is in the way.”

  Was that a fact? She took a deep breath and settled on the only solution other than kicking him in the shin. “You’re fired.”

  Both of his eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

  Satisfaction tilted her chin. Not much probably surprised Matt Dean. “You’re fired.” As an exit line, it nailed the situation. Unfortunately, the toned soldier stood between her and the door. Just who the hell did he think he was? “Now move your sweet ass.”

  He slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned back against the door. As a move, it was intimidating. “Why am I fired?”

  “You leave much to be desired as an employee.” She eyed him, assessing the situation. Nope. The guy might be commanding, but she wasn’t scared. He wouldn’t hurt her. “All you’ve done since being hired is flirt with customers, order me around, and kiss me.”

  His chin lowered. “Which of those items is pissing you off the most?”

  She narrowed her eyes as heat spiraled through her abdomen. “You can flirt with any dumb bimbo you want, and frankly, the kisses were all right. But ordering me around? Not a chance.”

  “All right? The kisses were all right?”

  Figured the man would focus on that. She forced herself to lift a shoulder. “Eh.”

  His cheek creased, and his eyes warmed. “Maybe we should try again, then. See if I can do better.”

  “No.” The spit in her mouth dried up. She hadn’t meant to challenge him… had she? “I don’t, ah, kiss fired employees.”

  “So that leaves Smitty.” Matt grinned.

  “Very funny.” The tension slowly drained from her muscles in response to his instant humor.

  He exhaled slowly. “Listen, I’m sorry if I scared you.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I’m also sorry if I was too bossy.” He rubbed a hand through his hair. “It’s just, after being in combat, orders come naturally. Seeing you, somebody so small near danger… well, it hits triggers. All sorts of triggers.”

  She could handle him bossy or charming. But sweet and honest? She shook her head and gestured toward his hard body. “You’re just… too much.”

  He chuckled. “If you give me another chance, I promise I’ll tone it down. All of it.”

  She’d be a fool to let this guy get close, but she knew better than to make a snap decision based on one moment or one emotion.

  She studied him. Earnest eyes, relaxed shoulders, apologetic half smile. If he was working her, he was damn good at it.

  Yeah, she liked him. Not only the look of him, but the self-effacing humor and ease of saying he was wrong. Most Alpha guys like him never admitted to being wrong. He’d had no problem with it.

  Plus, she needed a bouncer, and he could certainly bounce. The tickle at the nape of her neck promised something bad was coming, and facing it with a guy who wanted to protect her? Probably not a bad idea, so long as he understood the rules. While she wanted to convince herself she was making a business decision, there was no doubt her feelings for him went beyond personal. But she could handle her own emotions. “Fine. One more chance, but if you order me around again, you’re out of here.”

  “Fair enough.” He opened the door.

  Heat brushed her as she moved past him. “If I ever get lost in a snowstorm, I hope you’re there,” she muttered under her breath. The guy cascaded warmth.

  “Huh?” Matt asked as he shut the door.

  “Nothing.” She shook her head and headed back to the bar to get to work. What would life be like if she could flirt a little and even hope for a future? One with a husband and even kids? But there were no kids in her future.

  She plastered on a smile and began helping Smitty with drinks. The weekend chef manned the kitchen to prepare bar food, so she didn’t need to cook that night.

  The evening slid into closing time, and she shut the outside door with a sigh of relief. As usual, she double-checked the door locks and extra stoppers placed into the floor. The bikers had filled her till as well as the tip jars. “It was a good night.” She smiled as she tossed a bar rag toward Smitty.

  He caught it and grinned, lines fanning out from his bloodshot eyes. “Cleanup was quick. Ready for inventory?”

  “No.” She jerked her head toward the kitchen. “We’re done for the night and will do inventory another time. Go home and get some rest since tomorrow night will be busier than tonight, probably.”

  He finished wiping down the bar. “You do look tired, boss. Feeling all right?”

  “I’m fine.” The flush filling her face resulted from Matt’s loping in from the kitchen and not from any illness. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Good enough.” Smitty nodded to Matt on his way out. “Night, all.”

  “Night.” Matt crossed broad arms. “Did I hear something about inventory?”

  “Yes. I’ve got it.” She reached under the bar for a notebook. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  His smile was slow and way too sexy. “We could get it done in half the time if we worked together.”

  Well, at least he’d stopped issuing orders. She studied him for a moment. While she felt like she could sleep for a week, he looked up for running a few miles. Her eyes were gritty and her neck already ached, promising a headache would soon arrive. With her efforts in becoming part of the town and trying to learn how to make friends, she’d been working on accepting assistance and not being so alone. She really could use the help tonight, stubbornness aside. “Okay. Follow me to the storeroom.”

  A small room with a sexy ex-marine after midnight? What could possibly go wrong?

  Matt followed the curvy bar owner into the room full of alcohol-lined shelves. Sawdust and faded rum filled his senses. He should get back to his investigation, but curiosity kept him in place.

  Laney pointed to the top row. “We have to keep close records of sales in connection with our liquor license, so inventory is a must. You count the vodka bottles on the top row, and I’ll mark them off on the sheet.”

  “Okay.” He could see to the back without a stepladder, but Laney would’ve needed a lift. “Why don’t you like help?”

  “I don’t usually need help.”

  Sure, she did.

  He pushed aside two bottles. “I have seven bottles here.”

  “Great. How many tequila?” she asked.

  A stack of photographs of different bottles sat over to the side of the gin. “Your pictures are great.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Ten bottles of tequila, two bottles of gin.” Matt moved the pictures to a safer spot and then glanced her way. “How long have you been taking pictures?”

  Her lips pursed as she marked on her sheet and looked up. “Forever. I mean, I tried sports as a kid but never really enjoyed playing. My mom gave me a camera for my twelfth birthday, and I was hooked.” She grinned, transforming her face into something that stole his breath. “I even had my own darkroom for a while. Then, when digital came along, life turned fantastic.”

  He moved to the next shelf to count. “Why pictures? I mean, with all the hobbies you could’ve chosen, why photography?”

  “I can’t draw,” she shot out.

  He turned and raised an eyebrow. “Seven bourbons.”

  She scribbled, and her face heated as he kept his focus on her. “Fine. I like being able to capture a moment… to have proof it existed. Proof that w
ill be here after I’m gone.” A tinge of sadness flowed on her words.

  The odd tone bespoke of possible health problems or a doubt of longevity. “Are you all right?” he asked softly.

  “Fine.” She pointed to the bottom shelf. “Keep counting.”

  He had no right to push her to confide in him, considering his falsehoods to her already. Plus, he’d be leaving town soon. “Three cases of ginger ale, two of Pepsi, and three of Wallace Brewing’s Idaho Select Lager.” Turning, he eyed the shelves on the opposite side of the room. “Why didn’t you like sports?”

  She shoved hair out of her eyes. “I was a bit klutzy, and it wasn’t fun.” Her eyes remained downcast.

  “What else?” he asked, going on instinct.

  She sighed. “Like I told you before, my mom drank. A lot. I never knew if she’d show up to games stumbling and swearing, or beaming with pride.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Yeah. It made for a lonely childhood.” She turned and eyed him. “What about you? I mean, you have brothers, but what were your parents like?”

  The question somehow caught him unaware, but he answered naturally. “My father was in the military, and we moved a lot. No mother.” The lie bothered him all of a sudden. He wanted to be as honest with Laney as she was with him, but he had his brothers to protect. That vow trumped his wishes.

  Laney’s eyes narrowed. “What else?”

  He shrugged. The woman was smart and could sense a lie. Interesting. “Nothing else. My dad was never around, and I pretty much raised my brothers.”

  “That’s probably why you feel so guilty losing one.” Those eyes softened.

  The woman had no clue. Guilt didn’t come close to the devastation he lived with daily. “You mentioned your mother. No father?” Matt asked.

  “He died before I was born.” Sadness tinged her smile. “For years I dreamed he was still alive and would show up, cure my mother, and take us somewhere exotic where I wouldn’t have to act like a grown-up all the time.”