Thursday night was buy-one-get-one-free night for shots at Kincaid’s, which always drew the younger crowd. A lot of the customers who came in on Monday for ladies’ night returned to take advantage of yet another drink special and troll for a midweek hookup—and that included Mason, who was currently out on the dance floor getting down and dirty with the girl he’d been flirting with for the past hour.
Clay shook his head, knowing his brother would be in the woman’s pants before the night was over, and as long as Mason didn’t utilize the bathroom to screw his latest conquest, Clay would look the other way and not kick him out of the bar. But if Mason dared to use Clay’s office, he’d castrate his sibling, because he didn’t want anything tainting the memories of everything he’d done to Samantha in that room, and all the erotic ways he’d made use of his desk and made her his. Even if it had just been for that brief bit of time together.
Remembering how well Samantha had responded to him, how tight and hot she’d been around his cock, had his gaze searching for the woman who’d blown his mind, and his dick, just a few hours ago. Being with her had been sexy and dirty and so incredibly addicting he’d be a Goddamn liar if he said he wouldn’t touch her again. Not now that he knew what her pussy tasted like and what her mouth felt like wrapped around his shaft. She’d left him reeling from the most earth-shattering encounter he’d ever had, and for the first time ever, he couldn’t stop thinking about a woman long after sex was over.
Yeah, he was so damned screwed.
Clay stood at the far end of the bar, his gaze coming to rest on the object of his search. While Tara and Gina worked the service area, Samantha wove around the crowded tables, delivering drinks and food and taking orders. She was completely relaxed and glowing, no doubt from the three orgasms he’d given her earlier. The uncivilized caveman side of him took pride in the shine radiating from her porcelain skin and those luminous blue eyes.
She smiled at customers and laughed at something one of them said to her. The guy followed up his comment with a wink—which made Clay clench his jaw in irritation. Watching other men flirt and hit on Samantha was the worst part of her working at the bar. He didn’t like seeing it happen nightly any more than he appreciated the fact that he felt that way about her at all.
Clay had never been a jealous, possessive kind of guy, and he had no business feeling that way now. He didn’t do messy or complicated relationships with women, and he reminded himself that Samantha was no different. What they had was a short-term fling. He was too fucked up from his shitty past, too jaded by life in general, and too used to being alone to think otherwise. And mostly, he was too emotionally damaged to give any woman—Samantha, especially—the kind of love and forever promises she deserved and no doubt wanted.
He just didn’t have it in him, and knowing that truth about himself had always enabled Clay to keep women compartmentalized in a way that ensured there were no misunderstandings, no unrealistic expectations. Just hot, uncomplicated sex. He attempted to keep Samantha in that same neat, temporary box in his brain—because he knew her time here was brief and merely a reprieve from her real life. It wouldn’t be long before she either figured out what she wanted to do with her future and moved on or succumbed to parental pressure and returned home to marry the gutless bastard her father had chosen for her.
Clay’s stomach twisted with real fucking pain at the notion, something he preferred not to think about now—or ever—even though he realistically knew that he’d never fit into her world. Socially, they were polar opposites. One way or another, her leaving was inevitable, and there was no way he’d try and stop her when the day arrived. In fact, he’d be doing her a huge favor by waving good-bye when the time came.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Whatever worked to let her go. As long as she didn’t resort to option number two and choose home, along with the asshole waiting to put a ring on her finger. In the meantime, he’d do all he could to keep her happy while she was here—another anomaly for him, but fuck it. He wanted her happy, and that included encouraging her to pursue her interest in being a pastry chef.
Clay had given a lot of thought to the ways he could help Samantha in that regard. She didn’t have a resume or the hands-on experience to impress a potential employer, but she was a certified pastry chef, and thanks to the housekeeper who’d initially taught her, she had honed her skills over the years. Her best bet was to find someone who’d let her prove her value and expertise in a less traditional way. It was an idea Clay was working on, and with Katrina’s help, he had a surprise for Samantha he hoped would be ready tomorrow.
Out of the corner of his eye, Clay saw a guy sit a few barstools down from where he was standing. Reluctantly dragging his gaze away from Samantha, he turned toward the customer, only to realize that it was his youngest brother, Levi, who hadn’t been in all week, which was fairly normal for Levi since he wasn’t into the bar scene. So the fact that he was here now, on a very crowded night, told Clay that he’d stopped by for a specific purpose. And it wasn’t difficult to figure out what that reason was, or whose big, fat mouth had gossiped like a fucking girl to their brother.
Tamping down his annoyance, he strolled over to where Levi was sitting. His twenty-four-year-old brother was the fairest of the three of them, with light green eyes and sandy blond hair. Clay had always assumed Levi had taken after whoever had fathered him, since he had none of their mother’s features like he and Mason did.
“I take it you’ve talked to Mason?” Clay asked by way of a greeting.
“Not personally, though he did text me to tell me that you have a woman living with you,” Levi replied with a raised brow. “You’d think big news like that would come directly from you, instead.”
“She’s not living with me in the way you mean,” Clay explained, trying not to sound defensive.
“Doesn’t matter why she’s living with you,” his brother said, his tone and gaze serious. “The fact that you let a woman stay in your apartment for more than a night is quite shocking and fascinating.” Levi narrowed his gaze, studying Clay in that pensive way of his.
Even as a young boy, Levi had been the quiet one, always contemplating and analyzing a situation, and Clay had no doubt he was doing so now. Being a cop only amplified that personality trait, and Clay didn’t like all that knowing speculation directed at him.
Glancing away, Clay grabbed a glass and filled it with ice to make Levi’s drink of choice—orange juice and soda water. Yeah, his brother was a teetotaler. After witnessing the harsh effects that alcohol and drugs had on a person’s disposition as a kid, he’d never touched the stuff, unlike Mason, whose personality ran toward more destructive traits. Their middle brother got high however he could to forget the past and numb the pain.
“Samantha didn’t have anywhere else to go since her family cut her off financially,” Clay said, turning his thoughts back to Samantha as he poured the juice and soda water into the glass at the same time so they mixed together. “I’m just helping her get back on her feet.”
“That’s very charitable of you,” Levi drawled as his gaze scanned the crowded bar area, then came back to Clay. “I take it she’s the gorgeous blonde over there?”
Samantha was hard to miss, and she was the only waitress who Levi hadn’t seen before. “Yeah, that’s her.” Clay set the orange juice spritzer on a napkin in front of his brother. “Her name is Samantha.”
“Also known as Cupcake?” Levi tried covering the smirk on his lips by lifting his glass for a drink, but Clay caught the sly gleam in his eyes.
Clay glared at his brother. “Fuck Mason and his big mouth.” And for being such an asshole, he thought grumpily.
Levi chuckled in amusement. “Ahh, brotherly love at its finest. Did you really expect anything less of Mason?”
Not trusting himself to reply to that comment with his own feelings about brotherly love, Clay instead grunted in response just as he saw Samantha come up to the service area to pick up a drink order. She looked over at him, her smile so sweet, sexy, and intimate he had no fucking idea what to do with the strange and unfamiliar emotions tightening his chest.
So he pushed the feelings away and lifted his hand to motion Samantha over. Her entire face lit up at his summons as she walked toward him.
“Hey, handsome,” she flirted. “What can I do for you?”
Oh, hell, there were all kinds of suggestive innuendos in that question, and if they’d been alone, he would have played along, tossing out a dirty and descriptive response of what, exactly, she could do for him. Unfortunately, introductions were in order, and that speculative gleam was back in Levi’s gaze as he watched the interaction between him and Samantha with too much interest.
With a groan, Clay said, “Samantha, I’d like you to meet my younger brother, Levi,” he said, tilting his head toward the man she was standing next to. “He’s a cop with Chicago PD.”
Instead of the embarrassment Clay had expected, her grin widened, and her eyes shone with genuine pleasure as she turned toward his brother. “It’s so great to meet you.” She eagerly shook the hand that Levi offered.
“Likewise,” Levi said with a smile.
Clay was suddenly grateful that his youngest sibling had better manners than Mason. At least around Samantha. Once she walked away, Clay was pretty sure the interrogation would ensue, and Levi was damn good at extracting information.
“So, you’re the respectable brother,” Samantha said, her tone light and humorous.
Levi raised a brow in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“Katrina,” Clay said, knowing that was all the explanation his brother needed. The other woman had distinct opinions about each of the brothers’ personalities, and they were pretty much on point.
“Ahhh,” Levi said in understanding, then shrugged. “I suppose I am the respectable one, at least compared to Mason,” he replied with a laugh.
“That’s an understatement,” Clay muttered. “There’s a reason Katrina calls him a manwhore.”
Samantha tipped her head, her blue eyes clear and way too guileless. “I just think Mason hasn’t met the right woman yet.”
Levi rolled his eyes at Clay, who let out a laugh.
“That’s an optimistic thought, even for Mason,” he said.
Levi nodded. “The man’s got a point.”
They both knew their middle brother much too well. He’d never had a relationship with a woman that was anything more than a few days, a week tops, of pure unadulterated sex. Not to mention, the right woman was right under his brother’s nose, but Mason was either completely oblivious to her feelings or he didn’t want to take a chance on Katrina and risk ruining the close bond and friendship they’d shared for so many years.
“Samantha, your order is up,” Gina called from the service bar.
“I need to get back to work,” Samantha said, though she smiled at Levi one last time. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
Levi watched her walk away, and as soon as she was out of earshot, he glanced back at Clay, that intuitive look back in his light green eyes. “This one is different, isn’t she?”
Clay struggled to keep the truth locked away, because an affirmative answer would force him to evaluate those feelings that were stirring to life inside of him. Feelings that would acknowledge that yes, Samantha was different from any woman he’d been with before. She was unique and special—and so out of his league he was stupid to ever think otherwise.
“Whatever there may or may not be between us, it’s casual, and only until she figures out what she wants to do next.” He refused to give Levi any details about their relationship or admit just how in over his head he actually was.
Levi absently swirled the orange liquid in his glass, his gaze shrewd in a way that twisted Clay’s insides. His brother was smart. Professionally and personally, he was observant, direct, and insistent. He also didn’t beat around the bush and wouldn’t be afraid to bring up shit Clay preferred to keep dead and buried.
If Clay was lucky, Levi would keep things focused on Samantha only. “What? Spit it out already,” Clay muttered.
Levi placed his glass on the table, leaned forward, and met Clay’s gaze. “If you honestly believe this woman is a casual fuck, then you’re a goddamn idiot.”
Clay bristled. “I know what I’m doing.”
Levi released an insipid laugh and shook his head. “You don’t know shit. I saw the intimate way she looked at you,” he said as he folded his arms on the surface of the bar. “And more importantly, before you saw me, I noticed the way you looked at her. Like you were ready to vault over the counter if any guy in the place so much as laid a hand on her. I’ve never seen such a possessive look in your eyes. That’s how I know Samantha is different.”
Clay clenched his jaw, hating that he’d been so transparent. “I barely know Samantha.” The lie burned in his throat.
“I know our mother didn’t give us a reason to trust women,” Levi said, diving right into that forbidden territory Clay had hoped to avoid. “She didn’t give a shit about us, and Wyatt was even worse,” his brother went on, daring to bring up the mean son of a bitch their mother had left them with. The bastard who’d had no qualms about beating the crap out of them on a regular basis.
“Shut up,” Clay said through clenched teeth. He didn’t talk about Wyatt, ever.
Levi narrowed his gaze. “How long are you going to let what our mother and Wyatt did to us dictate your future and happiness?” he asked, ignoring Clay’s warning to end this discussion now.
Nausea swirled in his stomach as the grim memories he preferred to keep buried threatened to strangle him. A rising anger followed, but his brother was on a fucking roll, and now that he’d pried open Pandora’s box and let out all the ugliness of their past, there was no stopping him.
“No one’s perfect. Hell, everyone has a past that has shaped who they are. And no matter what you think or feel about what Wyatt did to you, you are a good person, Clay.”
Clay gripped the towel on the bar and shut his eyes tight. There was nothing he could do to forget Wyatt’s abuse or the single night that had changed Clay from a boy to a man intent on killing another human being. He’d had so much rage coursing through his veins and no hesitation about stabbing the knife he’d stolen to protect his brothers straight into Wyatt’s dark, evil heart. Unfortunately, despite all the bloodshed, the mean bastard had lived.
“Stop stirring up shit,” Clay said in a low, menacing voice he barely recognized as his own.
“Is that what I’m doing?” Levi asked, unfazed by Clay’s anger. “If you’d just talk about it instead of pretending it never happened, then maybe you’d quit hiding behind this bar and meaningless women.” Levi eyed him knowingly. “Better yet, maybe you won’t let the one worthwhile woman get away.”
Clay braced his hands on the edge of the bar and sent his brother a dangerous look. “Let it fucking go, Levi,” he said in his most threatening tone. “I don’t need a lecture, and our shitty past has nothing to do with any kind of relationship I have with Samantha.”
“No, it’s just holding you back from having any kind of relationship at all.” Levi sighed, the sound rife with frustration. “You don’t always have to be so damn strong for everyone, Clay, and you don’t have to carry the burden alone. If you remember, I was there, too.”
“I fucking remember everything, Levi.” How could he ever forget when the nightmares plagued him on a regular basis? It had been the worst night of his life, and that was saying something considering all the horrible things the three of them had endured as kids. He still had the physical scars to remind him every damn day what they’d gone through.
Clay exhaled a stream of breath that did nothing to ease the pressure in his chest. “Now that you’re done psychoanalyzing me, feel free to leave, because I have work to do.”
“Of course you do,” Levi said sarcastically as he slid off the barstool, clearly knowing he was being dismi
ssed. “Have a good night, Clay.”
Was his brother seriously wishing him a good night after tangling his emotions into a giant fucking knot?
Clay glared at Levi and flipped him the middle finger, uncaring that anyone in the place might see the rude gesture. “Fuck you for screwing up my night, asshole.”
“You’re welcome.” There wasn’t an ounce of regret in Levi’s eyes or expression. Mission obviously complete, Levi turned and strode out of the bar, leaving Clay alone with memories that were now raw and perilously close to the surface.
