I was back at the clubhouse before it hit me that I’d meant to go into the tattoo shop. That was where I’d told Mort I was heading after I’d dropped off the invitation.

  I groaned and dismounted my bike. Too late now to ride away. Our newly initiated members, formerly known as Prospect One and Prospect Two, walked out of the clubhouse, laughing. The shorter, stockier of the two, Taro, nodded in my direction.

  “Where are you two numbskulls off to?” I asked.

  Taro rubbed the bald head of his friend. “Zip here lost a bet we made, and he’s about to deliver my prize.”

  “So who’s sucking whose dick?”

  “Don’t you want to find out?” Taro blew me a kiss, and I shook my head. They were not only the two newest members but also the youngest of the Reapers now. They’d prospected long enough for us, and Grimm had appointed them as fully fledged members after Angel was killed.

  Hard to believe that motherfucker was gone. He’d been a good one.

  I trudged into the clubhouse, leaving Taro and Zip to entertain each other. When my eyes fell on the club colors hanging on the far wall, as usual, I was assuaged by a deep sense of pride for being a part of the Grimm Reapers. The twins were eating together at the table in the corner where our hangaround bitches usually sat.

  “Rubble.” Cass jumped to his feet and rushed over to me. “Did he get the invitation?”

  “Yeah, what’d you think? I was going to eat it?”

  He rolled his eyes. “So is he gonna come?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know for sure, but I think so.”

  He beamed a smile at me, and I frowned. He didn’t know Miles had the hots for Mort, did he? Surely Mort kept that from him. Two months and eight days ago, I might have taken this as a chance to get them to break up, but now I had zero desire to do that. I had no interest in the boy before me anymore. All the times we’d fucked were nothing but a memory. A good memory, but we had other plans now…other goals…other people that we were down for.

  “I hope he can make it,” Cass said, then lowered his voice. “I hope he doesn’t feel he can’t come because he had a crush on Mort.”

  Goddammit, did the whole fucking world know about this?

  “Look, can we talk in private?”

  “About what?”

  I took his arm and led him from the mess hall, aware of the lingering eyes of our brothers watching us. Eventually, they would get it that we were nothing but friends.

  “Is something wrong?” Cass asked.

  Out in the hall, I dropped his arm and paced. “You know how to dance, right?”

  His face turned hard. “Dammit, Rubble, what are you up to? Mort and I are getting married and—”

  “It’s not about you.”

  “We can’t have anyone causing trouble for us.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Cass, this isn’t about you?” I growled. “It’s about wanting to learn how to dance so I can…”

  “So you can what?”

  “Ask Miles to dance with me at your wedding.”

  “Oh.” His features mellowed out, and he smiled at me. “You’re into Miles? Mort was right!”

  I scowled at him. “About what?”

  “He thinks you and Miles had something going on, but well, you never bring him around the clubhouse, so we weren’t so sure anymore.”

  “That’s because there’s nothing between us. Yet. But I’d like there to be.”

  “Aww.” He clapped his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet. “Wait till the other boys know we’ll have another one of us soon. We can’t wait to initiate him.”

  “No, Cass. You can’t say anything to anyone yet. I don’t even know if he likes me like that.”

  “I’m sure he does.”

  I groaned, running a hand over my ponytail. “Will you just teach me to dance? None of that fancy footwork shit you do, just the basics not to squash his toes.”

  He giggled. “Yeah, you’d better not do that. Your feet are, like, twice the size of his.”

  “Not quite.”

  “But close, right?”

  I grinned. “You know what they say about big feet.”

  He snorted. “I’ll teach you as long as you don't mention stuff like that again.”

  “Deal.”

  “What’s going on here?”

  I nearly jumped out of my skin at Mort’s voice. I stepped aside and eyed the other man who’d crept up way too quietly at us. He glanced from Cass to me with an eyebrow raised.

  “I’m going to teach Rubble how to dance!” Cass cried before I could give Mort a vague answer that could likely get me choked out.

  I braced myself for the laughter and the fun at my expense, but Mort nodded at me. “Good for you.”

  Chapter 3

  Miles

  “Have a good evening, sir, ma’am. Thanks for dining with us, and we hope to see you again soon.”

  I smiled at the couple who rose to their feet after dining in my section of the restaurant for the past hour and a half. The wife was an absolute sweetheart who hadn’t made a fuss when I accidentally spilled a drop of wine on her skirt. She’d brushed off my apology and winked that it was only an excuse for her to buy another.

  The man, on the other hand…yikes. I couldn’t wait for them to go so I could sail the receipt with his phone number on the back of it into the trash. Sadly, it wasn’t even the worst thing to have happened to me in the short week since I’d started working at the restaurant. Most of the diners just wanted to spend a quiet evening with someone special. But then there were those like him, who, whether they arrived alone or not, thought I would be interested in their cell phone numbers. Or any of their other ridiculous proposals.

  “You’ll definitely see us again.” He winked at me over his wife’s head and took her arm. I shook my head and cleared their table as quickly as I could without breaking anything. The restaurant was close to maximum capacity, with people coming in as others left. Maybe someday, when I stopped working here, I would be able to enjoy the aesthetics. It had a lovely atmosphere, quite romantic with soft lighting. It’d been a long time since I’d been somewhere this fancy.

  I should have run away when I had the chance.

  I balanced the dishes and glasses the diners had used and wound my way to the off-limits area of the restaurant. The air in the production area was hotter and thick with the scent of food being prepared. On my first day, my mouth had watered a lot, but after a week, all I wanted to do was breathe fresh air.

  I stole a glance at the clock mounted on the wall. Only another two hours before my shift ended. As much as I enjoyed the tips and the extra time, I was dead tired on my feet today. I’d been up late last night, unable to sleep, taking every little sound as a threat to my person and my sanity. How long was I going to be able to live like this? At some point, the bough would break, but I was determined to keep it all together for as long as I could.

  “You, okay?” Bastion, another waiter a couple of years older than me, asked. “You look like you could use a break.”

  I grimaced. “No break. Two hours left till my shift ends. You?”

  He groaned. “I go up to midnight. Happy hour.”

  We laughed as I dropped off the dishes to be washed and checked my clothes for any stray food.

  “I haven’t gotten a shift that late yet,” I said softly so no one would hear and get any ideas.

  “It’s not so bad once you get used to it.” He grabbed his water bottle from the cooler. Why he had it labeled with his name, I had no idea. As if anyone else had a pink water bottle that glittered with rhinestones and sequins.

  “Between you and me, I don’t want to get used to it.” I didn’t want this job forever, but for now, it put food on my table. Some guys had all the luck. I’d thought I did too, but so far, my dreams of a sugar Daddy sweeping me away from the mess of my life hadn’t come true.

  But a boy could hope.

  “By the way, there’s a hot giant I want to hump like a dog who just sat in your section,” he whispered.

  Hot giant? No way. “Ponytail? Tats?”

  “Well, he’s wearing a dress shirt, so I can’t tell about the tats, and his hair is up in a messy man bun. The kind that makes you wanna stick your finger in and violate it.”

  Holy crap bucket. It couldn’t be. Rubble was here? And wearing a dress shirt? I hurried toward the door, then stopped. What if he was here on a date with someone? He didn’t seem like the type who would go to a fancy restaurant all alone.

  “Is…he with someone?” I asked Bastion.

  “So you do know him?”

  “Well, is he?”

  “No, at least not when he came in, but someone might be joining him.” He shrugged.

  That was so not what I wanted to hear. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I’m going in. It didn’t matter if he was alone or not. I would be professional, be his waiter, and provide exceptional service in the hopes of a large tip that would make a dent in my debts.

  I scanned the area I was in charge of tonight. Normally, each waiter would serve three or four tables, but when the place got crowded, like tonight, we had to work as many as six tables.

  My breath caught. He cleaned up nicely. Every single time I’d seen the biker, he’d been wearing his cut, a T-shirt, and faded jeans. I couldn’t see what type of pants he had on, but there was no mistaking the actual button-up shirt he wore. Oh my, he was even wearing a tie that he tugged at like he was about to rip it off any minute.

  The seat across from him was empty. I had no good reason to do a happy dance mentally, but I did anyway. I grabbed a menu on my way to his table, but he was fiddling with his tie so much he didn’t notice me.

  “Welcome to Heavenly Delight.” He snapped his head up. “I’m Miles, and I’ll be your server for tonight.”

  “Ha-ha,” he said. “Very funny.”

  I barely kept a straight face. My night was looking up. “Excuse me? Do I know you? I mean, you look familiar, but…I can’t recall where I might have seen you before. Think you can help me out a little?”

  “Miles, you little shit.” I blinked at him, and he colored, tugging at the collar of his shirt this time. “Oh fuck. I mean darn-gosh-damn.” He groaned. “This was such a stupid idea.”

  I took pity on him. He was way too cute. And he’d clearly looked up the place after I told him where I worked. My gut might have been right then. He liked me more than he let on.

  “Eating out isn’t a stupid idea.” I handed him the menu, which he took. “I wish I had the time and the money to eat out more often. Can I get you something to drink while you look at the menu?”

  “I-I don’t know. I usually have some of that piss-poor beer you hate, but I’m guessing you have none of that here.”

  We sure didn’t. “Nope, but how about I get you something better?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Like?”

  “I’ll surprise you. Go ahead and take a look at the menu. I’ll be right back.”

  I placed his order at the bar, then tended to a couple of guests, all the while forcing myself not to glance over to his table. I was certain he was watching me, but I didn’t want to acknowledge him. Still, I breezed through taking care of my other guests so I could collect his glass of boulevardier.

  “Here you go. It’s quite popular, so I figured you would like it. Not too sweet but not bitter either.”

  “What is it?” He stared into the ruby-red liquid in the glass.

  “A half-pint of vampire blood.” I flashed a smile at him, then dialed it down. No need to alert the manager. I was already paying Rubble way too much attention as it was.

  “Is that so?” He took a sip of the drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing with his swallow. I held my breath that I hadn’t pegged him wrong. I knew little about drinks from an experienced standpoint, but I’d paid attention over the past few weeks to what the guests enjoyed and requested.

  “That’s quite good,” he said. “Maybe you can help me pick something out to eat.”

  “Straight to the main course?” He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to suffer through three courses of a meal.

  “Yeah, that sounds good.”

  “Steak, chicken, lamb?”

  “I’ll stick with the steak.”

  I helped him to select a meal that was perfect for him. “You’re really good at this,” he said.

  I dropped my voice. “I don’t want to be good at this. I’ll be back in a while, sir.”

  I winked at him, then groaned. Too brazen. Face burning, I darted off to deliver his order to the kitchen, but two tables down, a hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. Startled, I screamed until the man used his other hand and placed his index finger on his lips.

  Oh no, not now. Any other night but tonight. Just when everything started going right.

  As Hook released my arm, I suppressed the urge to run. Running away now would only mean he’d capture me another time. At least, the restaurant was a public place, and there was little he could do. Within reason.

  “You not going to take my order?” He smirked. Was it my imagination, or had he gotten another teardrop to the tattoos at the side of his left eye? Once I’d overheard him tell one of his colleagues—and I was sure he knew I was listening—that he added one for every person he killed.

  “Th-this isn’t my section,” I stammered.

  “I don’t give a fuck. I’m hungry, and I want you to be my little servant boy tonight. How about that? You ready for me to boss you around a little? That shit gets your panties wet, errand boy?”

  I swallowed down my panic, every instinct pushing me to run toward Rubble and hide behind him, but I couldn’t draw attention to him. Hook couldn’t report back to his boss that I’d caught someone’s eyes. Not after what had happened to the last guy I’d tried to date. One of those teardrops represented him.

  “This is not my place.” I rubbed my wrist, where his fingers had left red prints. “I just work here, and I don’t make the rules. I’ll send someone out to take care of you.”

  “I only want you, boy.” He licked his thin lips, eyeing me lasciviously as if he wanted to strip me naked. He leaned across the table. “Listen carefully. If you send anyone over here to serve me, who isn’t you, whatever happens to them is on your conscience.”

  The blood drained from my face, and my knees turned into Jell-O. He was sitting in Bastion’s section. I couldn’t let anything happen to him when he’d been so kind to me. Stupid. I always ended up getting the people closest to me hurt. Hadn’t I learned this by now?

  “Just let me handle it,” I said, then walked stiffly to the kitchen, where Bastion came out with a tray.

  “Here, let me help you with that.” I took the tray from him and pressed Rubble’s order in his hand.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Please don’t ask questions,” I said. When he opened his mouth, I gave an imperceptible shake of my head. “Please. It’s super important. I’ll cover your section for the rest of the night, and you do mine.”

  “You better give me an explanation after,” he said. “That’s for table sixteen.”

  “Copy that. Thank you so much. I owe you one.”

  I glanced over at Rubble, who frowned at me. Had he noticed something was off? My hands trembled as I served the guests who didn’t even seem to realize I wasn’t the same waiter who had taken their orders. Normally, I would introduce myself and explain the switch, but they were so engrossed in their conversation that I didn’t bother to disturb them.

  From their table, I returned to Hook, so aptly named for the hook earring he wore in his left ear.

  “Now be nice to me,” Hook said. “Your tip depends on it.”

  I’d known it was only a matter of time before they would find out where I worked, but I’d hoped it would be longer. I didn’t respond to his gibes but took his order. On my way to the kitchen, I glanced over at Rubble. I should avoid him, but I couldn’t help it. He was talking to Bastion, that charming Black guy with the perfect smile who could charm a snake. My heart sank, but why shouldn’t he have Bastion if he wanted? Rubble was free to date and enjoy the pleasure of someone else, something I wasn’t at liberty to do.

  My evening ruined, I served Bastion’s guests, unable to muster up even a hint of a smile, and it showed in the lousy tips I received. And all the while, my gaze kept straying to Rubble and darting away when I caught him watching me. Was he wondering why I wasn’t serving him?

  “Hey.” I blocked Bastion’s path when I ran into him in the kitchen. “He didn’t ask why I wasn’t serving him, did he?”

  “Yeah, but don’t worry. He doesn’t know you didn’t want to serve him. Told him our supervisor had us switch.”

  “Oh, all right, thank you.”

  “He’s even bigger up close.” He brushed his shoulder against mine and whispered, “I wonder how big if I get any closer.”

  He giggled as he walked out of the kitchen, and I gulped in a breath, then collected myself and grabbed Hook’s plate. It took everything out of me not to throw it onto the table in front of him.

  “Hmm, this looks good.” He glanced up at me. “You didn’t spit in it, did you?”

  Damn, I should have thought about that, but then again, I didn’t want this man to take any bodily fluid of mine, including saliva.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, right? I’d let you spit in my mouth anyway.”

  I almost gagged. “Is that all?”

  “Not quite.”

  “I need to get to the other guests.”

  He waved a hand dismissively. “They can wait.” He glanced to the right, and I kept my head straight, not following his gaze. “Now I want to know why that man keeps watching you like you’re his?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I think you do.” He took a sip of his drink. “You keeping yourself all pure for the boss? You know he invested a lot in his property.”

  “I’m not his property,” I said through clenched teeth.

  He shook his head. “You’re not too smart, are you? Or do I need to remind you who you belong to?”

 

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