Everything inside me goes still when Dutch flashes me a dark look like the villain in a movie just before he unleashes his evil on the world.
What the hell is he doing here in this part of town?
The urge to ball my fingers into fists and start swinging nearly swallows me whole. A soft touch on my shoulder keeps me from giving into my baser instincts.
Hunter studies me carefully. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” My voice sounds soft and wispy. “I’m going to get my apron.”
He nods to the counter. “I’ll be right up there.”
Arms tense, I make a point of not looking Dutch’s way when I storm past his table. He and his brothers stop talking when they see me.
I overhear Finn say, “So this is why you were suddenly in the mood for burgers.”
That pisses me off even more.
I grit my teeth, maneuver behind the counter and shove the swinging door aside.
The kitchen is filled with smoke and the scent of frying meat. The sound of metal clanking against steel is a consistent and rhythmic percussion.
Frankie, the manager, is at the stove flipping burgers. He’s short and stumpy with a gleaming bald head and a full, luscious beard that he keeps in a hairnet.
He points his small, squinty eyes at me. “Cooper.”
“Frankie.” I nod in respect.
He might not be the friendliest guy in the world, but Frankie runs a tight ship. He’s fair with the tips and consistently pays on time. Which is a lot better than some of my previous jobs.
“You’re late again,” he says, checking his watch.
“I told you I’d be coming in a little later every evening. I’ve got school stuff.”
“I don’t want to hear about your school stuff. When things pick up, I need you here. You understand?”
“Alright,” I snap begrudgingly.
“What’s with the attitude?”
I ignore his mean eye. “I heard you, Frankie. I’ll be here on time from now on.”
Maybe I can work something out with Redwood to allow me to do my work study earlier. It’s getting tough to finish cleaning my assigned classrooms, catch a bus and make it to the diner in time.
Frankie bobs his head toward the front. “I’m changing your section. You’re at table four today.”
My eyes widen and my heart starts speeding fast. “But I’m on tables one to three. Why am I doing four all of a sudden?”
“A special request. The customers asked for you by name.” Frankie smiles so hard his gold tooth flashes at me. “And we want our customers to be happy, don’t we?”
My body goes rigid. The last thing I want to do is walk over there and serve Dutch. That annoying egotistical bastard has been trying my patience all day. But I don’t have another choice. The diner is a good gig. I don’t want to lose my job.
Come on, Cadey. Wear your big girl pants.
I tighten my apron around my waist and storm over to Dutch’s table. His eyes are steady on me and brimming with the confidence of a hawk who has his prey right where he wants him.
Every step feels like a death sentence. It doesn’t help that all the thoughts I’d been fighting off when I was with Hunter surge to prominence.
I take note of Dutch’s change of clothes, the blond hair hanging over his forehead, and his gleaming amber eyes. The grey T-shirt beneath his leather jacket is fitted to his muscled chest.
He looks utterly delectable and I hate him for it.
I step closer. Dutch is sitting on the outside of the booth. Stopping at the table puts me only a foot away from him. My body tightens from the mere proximity. It gets worse when I catch a whiff of his clean fragrance.
Mentally coaching myself through my emotions so I don’t look as rattled as I feel, I point my gaze on the lace curtains covering the window.
“Torturing me at school isn’t enough for you?”
Dutch only has to tilt his head an inch in order to meet my eyes. His stupid height makes him look tall even when he’s sitting down.
“Is that any way to treat a customer, Brahms?”
On cue, flames shoot up from Frankie’s grill. I turn around, spying him through the window overlooking the kitchen.
Frankie personally assigned this table to me. There’s no way I can get out of this if I slap Dutch until every page in my notepad falls out.
“This isn’t Redwood Prep, Dutch. If you’re just here to make trouble, you should go.” The words are hot enough to scald. Not that Dutch shows any sign of being rattled.
His eyes go dark. He holds up two fingers. “Lesson Number Two. It doesn’t matter if we’re in Redwood Prep, in this diner, or on the freaking moon. You will always be at my mercy, Cadey.”
His tongue caresses the nickname like it’s something dirty and I lose my ability to breathe.
Nervously, I lick my lips. Dutch’s gaze hooks onto the sight of my tongue sliding against my mouth. His unrestrained attention sends a zip of adrenaline through my body.
When I feel my knees going weak, I slap my palm on the table and lean over him. “I think the smoke is getting to your head. The truth is you don’t own me, Dutch. Never have. Never will.” I jerk my chin down. “And that bothers you, doesn’t it?” I search his face. “The fact that you couldn’t have me…”
His jaw does a fascinating flex and release. With one hard glance from him, I know I’m dancing on the edge of a very dangerous line.
It doesn’t matter. I have to put up with him in the hallways of Redwood Prep. In the classrooms.
But not here.
This is my side of town.
This is my territory.
I smile tauntingly. “If you’re not hungry, then I suggest you leave—”
“Oh, I’m hungry.” His eyes slide down to my chest—which is practically in his face—before gliding down the rest of me. I feel his gaze like honey dripping on my skin.
He smiles sinisterly. “What’s good here?”
I straighten and snap, “Your head on a platter.”
Zane snorts.
I barely notice. The tension between me and Dutch thickens until it turns into a hot, swirling mist.
“Off the menu, Brahms,” he says dryly.
I watch him lean back and get comfortable. My eyebrows knot. “You’re really not going to leave?”
“Not until I enjoy a meal.” He arches a brow. “Be a good little girl and I might even leave you a nice tip.”
I grind my teeth until I’m sure they’ll turn into dust. “Screw you.”
A cruel smile spreads across his face even as another warning flashes in his eyes. “Don’t make a scene, Brahms. You don’t want me teaching you a lesson in front of your friend.”
When he nods behind me, I look back and notice that Hunter is watching the table intently. My head swings around and my gaze lands on Dutch again. In the monster’s eyes are a jealous possession.
That sheen of ownership annoys me at first.
And then a light bulb goes off in my head.
“Can you give me a minute?” I ask.
Dutch’s eyebrows rise in surprise.
As I hurry to the counter, Hunter half-hops out of his chair. A deep crease wrinkles his forehead. “Are those guys bothering you, Cadence?”
“Um… do you mind helping me out with something?”
“Anything.”
“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”
His jaw drops.
“Will you?”
“I mean, sure. But why? If they’re bothering you, I can just kick them out.”
I drape my arm over his shoulder, lean into his ear and hurry the rest of my explanation. “My boss assigned me to this table, so that’s not an option. I have to serve them, but I figure… if they mess with me, I can mess right back.”
Hunter smiles as if he likes the idea. His hand settles on my lower back, skimming the band of my Redwood Prep skirt. I feel more than hear Dutch’s growl behind me.
You don’t own me, you deranged lunatic. You never will.
I place a kiss to Hunter’s cheek and he rubs my hip, looking up with a besotted smile that isn’t quite fake. A prick of guilt hits me when I see how much he’s enjoying this. If Dutch didn’t back me into a corner, I never would have dragged Hunter into a ploy as insane as this one. Hopefully, things don’t get awkward between us later.
I return to the table and all three Cross boys are staring at me with varying expressions. Zane looks intrigued. Finn looks amused. Dutch looks murderous.
“Someone’s popular with the locals,” Dutch says in a low voice.
I pretend not to hear. “Can I have your orders?”
“Does he know your real name or are you playing games with him too?”
I snarl at him. “Be careful, Dutch. You don’t want to see my skills with a butcher knife.”
“Is that a threat?” His furious gaze falls on me.
“Wasn’t it obvious?” I hiss. Blazing heat radiates from every inch of my body.
Dutch doesn’t seem scared at all. In fact, I’m starting to think there’s a part of him that gets off on my anger.
“Ehem.” Zane speaks up, sounding sheepish. “I don’t know about Dutch, but all I want is a burger.” He turns his head and pins his brother with an aggravated stare. “Dutch has been riding us all evening at practice. We didn’t stop for a single break. I’m so hungry I think I might faint.”
Untangling my eyes from Dutch’s, I walk to Zane’s side of the booth. Dutch’s twin is sitting slouched in the corner, his head against the window.
With the sunlight pouring on his pale face, every inch of his chiseled profile is exposed. He’s just as arresting and magnetic as Dutch, but I can tell that he’s been partying hard every night. Mom used to look worn out like that when she was on a bender.
“The double whopper is pretty good.”
Zane’s pretty blue eyes light up. He gives me a charming smile. “I’ll go with that then.”
“And to drink?”
“Serve any alcohol here?”
“Not if you’re underage.” I point to the sign.
He sulks.
“You should probably have water anyway,” I tell him.
“Aw. Are you concerned about me, Brahms?” Zane bats his thick eyelashes.
“You have to live with that monster all day.” I point to Dutch. “I imagine it can get pretty tough.”
I feel Dutch’s eyes perusing me. His fingers drum on the table. “You’re hilarious.”
I point a smug smile at him and then nod to Finn. “And for you?”
His eyes squint as he peruses the menu. “Any vegetarian dishes?”
“Do you see this place?” I ask with a hint of sass.
He chuckles.
“Are you a vegetarian?”
“No, I just prefer to eat healthily when I come to diners like this. And I figured the lettuce here might be better than any of the meat on those grills.”
“Trust me, no one asks for the lettuce. Ever. I don’t think Frankie even knows how to make a salad.”
Laughter glints from Finn’s eyes. He tilts his head. “Alright, I’ll have the same as them.”
“Aren’t you going to write it down?” Dutch asks.
“It’s all right in here.” I tap my forehead. “Three whoppers, two waters and a heart for you since you clearly don’t have one.”
“Who says I don’t have a heart?” Dutch eyes me intently. “I was gracious enough to come all the way here, so you could serve me.”
I want to light into him so bad that my entire body trembles with it. “Go to hell.”
His eyebrows hunker low over his eyes. He stands abruptly, his massive chest grazing my shoulder.
His voice is low and steady when he says, “Maybe I’ll just drag you there with me, Brahms.”
I tip my chin up. “I’d like to see you try.”
Zane groans. “Again, I get that you have to do this, but I really am hungry.”
I turn abruptly. “I’ll be right back with your drink orders.”
Warm, slender fingers wrap around my wrist to stop me. Dutch leans in. “I want a lime soda.” His breath caresses my ear. “With lemon. And a hint of mint leaves.”
“We don’t serve that here.” I snatch my hand back. “If you want fancy water you should go to a fancy restaurant.”
Dutch eases against the table and crosses his legs like he has all the time in the world to toy with me. “Your manager said that you would take care of us. Do you think he wants to hear that you’re giving trouble?”
I curl my fingers into fists. My veins throb with my hatred for him.
“I’ll be right back.”
Hunter motions to me after I give the girl behind the counter Dutch’s drink order. I step between his legs, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Is he your ex?” Hunter asks, rubbing his nose against mine and talking in a hushed tone.
“He wishes.”
“So why are you going to all this trouble then?”
I let loose a loud giggle and bury my head in Hunter’s neck. “It’s complicated.”
The tray of drinks lands harshly down on the counter. I jump and notice my co-worker glaring at me.
Well then…
“I’ve got to go,” I tell Hunter.
He holds my hand. “I’m not ready to let you go.”
“I know.” I caress his head and play up the ‘we’re so in love’ act by wrapping him in another hug. “I can’t wait until my shift is over so we can be alone.”
His eyes glint with the promise, even if it’s fake.
I hurry away from Hunter and expertly deliver the drinks to Dutch’s table. To be honest, I’m surprised there even is a table given the fire that’s spurting from his eyes.
Acting nonchalant, I do my job without acknowledging him.
“Here you go.” I slide the drinks over to Zane and Finn.
When I’m in front of Dutch, he grabs my wrist. “Bring me a closed water bottle.”
I storm away and return with it.
When I get back, I see that Hunter is now sitting in the booth behind Dutch. I’m keenly aware of him, and Dutch seems to be too.
He folds his arms over his chest. “The table’s dirty, Brahms. I can’t eat like this.”
How childish. If I had the ability to shoot lasers from my eyes, Dutch would have two holes in his skull.
“The table’s perfectly clean, Dutch. I have other customers to tend to, so don’t waste my time.”
“Take care of it,” he demands tightly. “Now.”
My nostrils flaring and my anger expanding beyond the limits of my restraint, I bite out, “How about I use your head as a dish rag?”
His jaw flexes. I’ve never seen him this close to exploding anger before.
The tension mounts.
Zane and Finn look on with tight expressions.
A hand encircles my wrist. It’s Hunter’s.
“Is there a problem here?” Hunter demands, a vein bulging in his neck. His eyes are digging right into Dutch’s face.
“Why don’t you mind your own damn business?” Dutch growls.
“Sorry. I can’t do that.”
“Who the hell are you to intervene?” Dutch’s voice is low and penetrating. I feel it rattling through me.
“I’m her boyfriend.” Hunter’s stare is hard. “I’ve been watching you pick on her like a damn toddler on the playground and I can’t sit still any longer. What the hell is wrong with you, man? Didn’t your parents teach you basic respect?”
Dutch unfolds himself from the table and rises to his full height. He’s about the same size as Hunter and the cold smile he flashes sends a shiver down my back.
“This is between me and her.”
I could choke on all this testosterone and male ego.
Their intensity sets me on edge. Hunter might be older, but Dutch is pure, brute strength. If it comes down to a fight, I don’t think Hunter will be able to take it.
I feel responsible for this stupid mess and I will never forgive myself if Hunter gets hurt because of Dutch’s idiocy.
“Hunter.” I put my hand to his chest. Eyes locking on his, I try to give a silent communication that it’s okay. “Don’t.”
I’ve dealt with Dutch in his bossy-mode before. Although he’s growly, dangerous, and unpredictable, I can handle him.
Hunter doesn’t back down.
The temperatures rise even higher.
People are starting to take notice. Frankie is looking on through the window. The last thing I want is for this to get any bigger and put my job in jeopardy.
“Please, just drop it, okay?” I whisper to Hunter. My head is close to his cheek. His eyes turn and take me in.
I feel Dutch’s fury rising. When I glance over, his amber eyes are glued to where my hand is resting on Hunter’s shirt. A cold, animalistic expression creeps over his face. His eyes meet mine like a sharp, jagged knife.
He hisses my name. “Cadence, tell your friend to calm down before things get out of hand.”
It’s not a request but a warning. One I feel all the way down to my toes.
Hunter raises his chin. “Leave before I put you out.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Is there a problem here?” Frankie appears at the table, his eyes darting between Hunter, Dutch and me. He’s wielding a spatula like it’s a sword meant to impale.
My heart sinks. In all the time I’ve been working here, I’ve never seen Frankie leave his station to come to the front. Not even once.
“No, Frankie, there isn’t.” My voice shakes.
“I don’t allow fighting in my establishment.” Frankie reminds me. “Cooper, get this under control.”
“I will.” I dig my fingers into my apron and hang my head.
Frankie cuts me another sharp look and returns to his kingdom behind the stove.
“Hunter, please. Just go.”
He’s still looking past me to Dutch, his jaw clenching.
I nudge him. “Your brother’s waiting for his burger.”
The mention of his brother seems to snap Hunter out of his daze. He straightens and looks down at me. “I’ll call you.”
“Yeah.”
With one more damaging look in Dutch’s direction, Hunter storms out of the diner. The bell jangles loudly behind him.
The kitchen bell dings.
The burgers are ready.
As I turn to get it, I see Dutch motion to his brothers. Finn and Zane get up from the table.
“Where are you going?” I ask, alarmed.
Dutch slams a hundred-dollar bill on the table. His eyes land heavy on mine and there’s darkness swirling in the depths.
“I lost my appetite.”
My breath gets trapped in my throat when I see a hint of hurt in his gaze.
I steel myself against it.
I’m no longer weak for the softer side of Dutch that I thought I saw. He’s nothing but a brute.
And he proves it when he brushes past me.
“I’ll deal with you tomorrow, Brahms,” he hisses.
The threat lingers in the air long after he storms through the doors of the diner and disappears from sight.
