This fucking punk blinks at me, like I might be joking, but I’m not. I’m not going to walk away while this bitch stands here talking to Payton.
“Yeah, okay.” He holds his hands up as he turns back to face my girl.
Yeah, okay.
God, I want to punch him in the face. Or pull my gun out and pistol whip him. Then he’d be too busy crying to flirt with Payton.
“Want your usual?” Her voice glides over my skin.
Or maybe I should just kill him.
“You know it, babe.”
I’m reaching for the Ruger at the small of my back before I even realize what I’m doing.
I pause, but I don’t drop my hand, debating how much trouble I’d be in for murdering this tool in broad daylight.
Payton wouldn’t like it.
My hand drops back to my side. Tapping my fingers against my thigh as this asshole pays for his usual.
“Let me grab your coffee.” Payton darts her eyes toward me, shifting on her feet. “I’ll bring it to the end of the counter.”
“Alright.” The guy slides a ratty-looking wallet into his pocket.
What the fuck is he even thinking talking to a girl like Payton? She’s way too good for him. Completely out of his league.
She’s stunning. Feminine. Kind and sweet. He would never be able to provide her with the kind of life that I could. The kind of life she deserves.
A life full of armored cars and bullets.
My teeth grind, annoyed with my own internal voice. But it’s the reminder I need to keep my mouth shut.
I watch Payton’s ass while she moves around, making the guy’s drink, positive she’s taking longer than usual. But I said I’d wait, so I cross my arms and lean my hip against the counter.
I feel like I’m doing a pretty good job of being epically patient, until the punk says, “See you tonight” as he takes the drink from Payton, and an audible growl rolls up my throat.
No. No, you will not see her tonight.
The man has to walk past me to leave, and I turn my head with his movement, tracking every step he takes. He looks up and makes eye contact, then weaves out between the tables so he doesn’t have to pass near me.
What a pussy.
“Is there something else I can get for you, sir?”
Payton’s tart voice goes straight to my balls, and I slowly turn back to face her. “Watch your tone, Baby.”
“Or what?” she hisses, before slamming her lips shut. Her eyes widen, clearly surprised at herself for asking the question.
“You’ll find out tonight, Sweet Girl.” Only she can hear me. And I watch with hungry fascination as her throat works on a swallow. She’s as affected as I am. “Now give me that cherry tart.”
“What!?”
I nod toward the pastry display. “The cherry tart. To go.”
She turns her head to follow my gaze, and her lips part, but she closes them again before speaking.
Using a loose piece of paper to pick up the tart from under the glass, she slides it into a small paper bag, hesitating before handing it over. “How long have you had my number?”
“Payton,” I grit out her name. “Not here.”
Her pretty eyes sparkle under the bright lights, and I take the moment to just look at her. Really look at her.
Payton is uncommonly pretty. Her navy eyes, half hidden under thick lashes, and casually messy hair highlight her beauty. She has freckles on her full cheeks that I haven’t had the time to appreciate yet. I want to pin her below me and trace the pattern they make with my tongue. And those lips. Fuck––those lips. I’ll have them on me soon enough.
Her clothes don’t flaunt her shape, but even with the loose fit, there’s no hiding her curves. And when she turns around, her gorgeous ass is framed by the edges of that damn white apron. It makes me want to drape her in silk. Or put her in a slutty dress, only to wear around the house.
The corner of my mouth pulls into a smirk.
She could dress up just for me.
Her eyes narrow at my expression and she drops the package with the tart onto the counter.
“What do I owe you?” When it’s clear she’s not going to tell me the total, I sigh and pull a twenty out of my wallet, swapping it for the tart. Then tell her, “Tonight.”
Turning back around I find the mayor’s attention focused on me, and I know I showed too much of my hand.
So I secure the mask of indifference over my features, as I walk back to his table.
“Pretty girl.” The mayor tips his head toward Payton. “I’ve had my eye on her for a while, but maybe you beat me to it?”
He leaves it open, waiting for me to confirm his statement. And even though I want to peel the skin off his body for daring to call her pretty in front of me, I keep a bland expression on my face. “Not my type. I’m just here for the food.” He doesn’t look entirely convinced but saying anything more would be out of character for me.
I make a point to look at my watch. “I gotta run. Abdul is showing me some new properties.”
As planned, that draws his attention. “Oh? You’ll have to let me know if you decide to pass on anything that I might like.”
Dipping my chin, I turn away and leave.
Never looking back in Payton’s direction.
