The door opened again, and a new face appeared in the frame.
Ah, him. Bull. The enormous man I’d eyed up.
It had been on my mind that I’d probably see him around the town. He’d even featured in one or two daydreams I’d had this past week. Ones where I wasn’t running and where I could waylay myself with a little flirting.
I’d wondered if he was more talkative in bed.
I’d wondered if he was big all over.
He took the barstool right in front of me.
“You again.” A teasing smirk sprang unbidden to my face. “What can I get you?”
The man’s gaze flicked to where I rested my hands together on the bar. Always looking, this one, though his attention didn’t feel lascivious.
“Coke,” he said.
“You mean ‘Coke, please?’” I took a glass from the shelf.
The man’s dark eyebrows beetled.
“You know please? One of those little words that make for polite society. Like when you answer if someone asks if you’re injured. Or when you say ‘hi’ if you see a familiar face,” I continued, pouring the drink.
A battle warred in his expression. A smile fought his lips.
“You might ask my name, seeing as we keep running into one another. That way, you can use it next time.” I put on a deep voice. “Hello, my name is Bull. I was named after a bulldozer cos I’m so damn big.”
His face cracked. A laugh burst out of his mouth, and he rocked back, wide-eyed, like mirth was electric and he’d been zapped. Midway through handing over his drink, I jerked in surprise, spilling Coke on my fingers. There was me, thinking I had his number, but the guy had a sense of humour after all.
“Who knew. You don’t hate me,” I murmured, then broke off the heavy eye contact we had going on. I busied myself washing my hand then wiping up the trickle of spilled Coke.
“Who knew, ye stuck around,” the man replied.
I stopped short, my mouth dropping open. That accent… “You’re Scottish,” I uttered.
“Aye, lass.”
Lass. My insides clenched with a bolt of sheer lust.
Denise marched out of the kitchen. “Bull! You’re back. I see you’ve met your newest employee. This is Autumn.”
Employee?
I stared at Bull. He regarded me. Then, with a small raise of his glass in salute, he stood from his stool and disappeared behind the bar.
He was my boss? I bit back my groan, and my fantasy ramped up a level. Flirting with the big guy just got far more interesting.
5
Do-gooder
Bull
She was everywhere. Over the course of the weekend, Autumn took every shift she was offered, and the lass worked hard.
I liked that. Expected it of those in my employ.
Her feistiness caught me unawares.
“Morning, Bull.” Autumn swung out of the kitchen, a tray at her shoulder.
I gave her a look in response.
She stopped in front of me in the dimly lit corridor, blocking my way. “What did we agree?”
I’d agreed nothing. I glared at her; a thousand tasks needing doing.
She planted her free hand on her hip.
“Morning, Autumn,” I forced out through gritted teeth.
She sighed and slipped past me in a cloud of subtle perfume. It was inescapable, that flowery scent, even over the smell of the bacon sandwiches she carried for the breakfast crowd.
“That wasn’t hard now, was it?” At the corner she stopped and peeked back at me. Then she dropped her gaze to my crotch. “Or maybe it was, and that’s why you’re grumpy all the time? What a pity.”
Then she was gone.
My attention remained on the turquoise-painted panelled wall where she’d just stood.
Flirting. When was the last time anyone had tried that on me? They all thought me a sad case and left me alone. Either that or my bark was enough to dissuade people from bothering me. Yet it didn’t affect Autumn. She didn’t fear me.
“Bull? There’s a call for you. Sorry.” Denise came out of the office, the phone in her hand.
She was sorry for the call? That could only mean it was one person. My mood flipped back from momentary bemusement to darkness and irritation.
“Want me to say you’re busy?” Denise’s expression bled pity.
She pitied me. Me, a huge, strong man. A business owner with fifteen people on my staff and a thriving bar that I’d turned around from nothing.
I had it all.
Apart from one thing.
I stomped into the office and snatched up the phone with my temper rising high.
I sped, making the journey to Cindy’s place in under thirty minutes, my mind replaying the phone call, her crying and desperate voice.
With a screech of brakes, I parked haphazardly in front of her neat house. “What’s wrong with him?” I demanded, leaping out of my truck.
Cindy clung to the doorframe, her eyes red and her cheeks wet with tears.
“He… He’s…” she’d stuttered on the call, making no sense through her upset.
My heart had hurt the whole way there, thinking that something had happened to her wee lad.
The woman threw herself into my arms. “He left me. Paul left me.”
My breath came out hard, and my fear withered. It took me a moment to find my words. “Christ, woman. I thought you meant something happened to the boy.”
“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t think. Archie’s fine. He’s upstairs napping.” She burst into tears again, hugging me like a limpet.
Archie’s fine. He’s okay.
I raised my gaze to the grey winter skies. It hurt like a fucker, coming to this house. Even if I avoided seeing the bairn, the reminders were unavoidable. In the porch, little shoes waited in a line, a pair of blue boots knocked over at the end. Maybe Paul, Archie’s daddy, had kicked them as he’d fled.
He’d left them. What an arsehole.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered.
Cindy’s crying subsided, and she shuffled back a step, letting her soft cardigan fall open. “Come in, won’t you? It’s freezing out here.”
“You shouldn’t have called me. I have to get back.”
She gave me a look. “Bull! I’m upset here. We were friends once, weren’t we?”
That wasn’t true. We’d had one drunken night together before…everything else. After, when she’d found me again, it had all been about Archie. There was nothing at all between the woman and me.
This shite had to stop.
I folded my arms. “I came because I thought the boy was hurt or sick. I’m not your shoulder to cry on.”
Her affected countenance shifted to something else. More predatory. She palmed my elbow, let her other hand drop down. “Maybe there’s another reason for you to stay a while.”
She had to be joking. I blinked, frozen, checking if I was reading her right.
“You could see him. Have dinner with us. Just like old times.”
I took a step back, pain blossoming in my chest. “I told you no. Do ye have everything ye need for him? Food? Fuel?”
Cindy’s expression soured. “Don’t try your do-gooder shit on me. I’m not a charity case.”