All To Myself (6 page)

Noah grabbed her with a low laugh and pulled her back into the seat, back into his arms. “Where do you think you’re going?”

He buried his face against her neck, and she squealed as he delivered a series of smacking kisses across the sensitive flesh, evading her attempts to cover herself to get his hands on her.

“Stay the night with me?”

Oh God, it was so tempting. As he toyed with her nipples, still tender from his teeth earlier, her whole body thrilled with the idea of disappearing from the world with him and casting off all her obligations.

“I can’t,” she said with a slight whine to her voice. “I have to be at work for the breakfast rush.”

“Call in sick?”

She wriggled until he let her sit up straight. “No, I can’t lose the shift, and I don’t like leaving the owner hanging unless I’m dying.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“Maybe.”

Once more, she chased her worries away as he helped her put the top back on. She felt far too buoyant to be weighed down by anything as his fingers brushed against her spine while he tied the strings.

As soon as he redressed her and zipped himself back up, Noah wrapped his arms around her in a fierce hug and pulled her onto his lap once more. Chin propped on her shoulder, he murmured against her. “What time are you supposed to work at the hotel tomorrow?”

“The same time every day. Three o’clock.”

“Can I pick you up?”

“
You
have to work, too,” she reminded him.

“Oh come on, I can get away for a half an hour to pick you up.”

Rory cuddled into him with a laugh. “It’s so cute how you say that, like you actually think you’re going to be cruising out of there after eight hours and won’t be stuck in rush hour traffic when you have to take the shuttle into town.”

“Are you serious? This place is tiny. How much traffic could there be?”

“Enough, with road construction and stupid tourists getting in your way.”

He pressed his forehead to her shoulder and groaned. “Just make sure you have a cold beer waiting for me when I drop by the bar.”

It seemed to take forever to get from the porch to the car. With every step he pulled her back against him, hands everywhere and fingers plucking at what little clothes she had, but somehow she managed to get to the passenger seat and park her wet bum on top of a fresh towel from the chalet. They picked up her bike at the end of the driveway, and though she had been the one to insist the night end, she found the drive far too short. In minutes they had stopped in front of her cottage.

Noah left the engine running as he pulled her bike out of the backseat and gave her a sheepish look. “I’d get out and walk you up, but if I did that you might have to fend me off.”

“It’s fine.” She wondered if she ought to kiss him goodnight, but decided against it. She had only rinsed her mouth out after he came, and besides, a kiss would only make the longing in her belly stronger. She got out of the car and smiled back at him. “See you tomorrow?”

“You bet that bouncy little ass of yours.”

Rory giggled. “Shut up--and thanks for the ride.”

He waited until she was inside before driving off, and she immediately went to the window to watch. At the last sight of his brake lights as he turned onto the main road, Rory whimpered and threw herself onto the sofa.

God, I’m a piece of work.

In the span of a couple of days, she’d gone from wanting to keep him at bay to screwing around with him. The more she felt the lure of enjoying a summer fling with Noah Hyland, the less inclined she was to stick to her resolve to keep things from getting complicated.

Tomorrow night, he’d asked, and she’d said maybe.

Maybe?

Probably?

Definitely.

She was going to sleep with him. She knew it as she scrubbed herself in the tiny shower. The fact that she shouldn’t seemed more like a suggestion than a fact.

She
shouldn’t
, but she would.

She would, and she would pretend that the end of summer wasn’t even a possibility.

Chapter Four

Rory was late for work twice the next day, first to Garden View, though her apologies to Dawna were met with a dismissive wave of the hand, and then at The White Tip. She’d overslept that morning, and the afternoon flub had been because of road construction. She had jinxed herself by teasing Noah with it the day before. When she arrived at work, a scum of red dust and sweat had settled over her.

She managed to evade Francie for fifteen minutes to get her wits about her, but when her sister appeared at the bar there was nowhere to hide.

“Is this going to be a regular thing, Rory?”

“There was construction. No one was getting through.”

“And yet everyone managed to make it in time except for you.”

Rory couldn’t help herself. “If I trade my bike in for a boat, will that make you happy?”

“I can always find someone else to work the bar.”

“Francie, I get it. I was late and you’re unhappy. Can we talk about this later?” she pleaded as a waiter, Tom, appeared with a large drink order. He took one look at Francie and turned on his heel. Whether it was to spare Rory the embarrassment of being dressed down in front of someone or if he didn’t want to stick around and be told his shirt wasn’t pressed enough, she had no idea.

If only her sister would disappear as quickly.

“Wednesday is going to be a big day for you, and for the entire dining room staff. Mr. Hyland’s son is going to be observing the service.”

Rory held back her laugh. “I was under the impression that Noah was just going to be mixing drinks with me.”

“
Noah
doesn’t need to be stuck behind the bar when he can be learning about how to keep a five-star dining room running smoothly.”

“Francie, you might want to run this past your boss, because I’m pretty sure Mr. Hyland wants his son to work, not observe.”

Francie tilted her head and raised her barely-there brows. “Perhaps
you
would like to run the dining room.”

“Sorry. My mistake. It’s just that he’s been doing all the dirty work for the last few days--”

“As I was saying before you decided to argue with me,” Francie went on, angry pink splotches forming on her cheeks, “Young Mr. Hyland will be observing the dining service, and I’m sure he won’t hesitate to report any issues to his father. You
will
be on time, and you
will
keep the attitude in check. Am I clear?”

“Crystal.” Rory just wished Francie would take her skinny ass away from the bar and possibly go back to whatever alien race had abducted and impregnated their mother almost thirty years ago.

But Francie lingered, moving behind the bar to criticize its cleanliness and order. Rory just ignored her as she filled glasses with beer and wine. She enjoyed the obnoxious grinding of the blender as she mixed up a couple of daiquiris.

Tom didn’t return until after Francie had moved along. He made a disgusted sound. “That woman is deranged.”

“Tell me about it.”

“When I came in yesterday she told me I needed to groom my eyebrows. Can you believe that? She suggested I get some clear mascara to keep them ‘shapely and aesthetically pleasing.’ I should have went back to the gas station this year.”

She loaded his drink tray with a shrug. “Only a few more weeks.”

“If she asks me to wax something, I’m quitting. I swear to God, I’m quitting.”

Rory was counting down the minutes to her sister’s exit when Noah strolled into the lounge. He grinned as Rory began pouring the same beer he’d ordered the evening before.

“You were right. Forty-five minutes sitting on the waterfront. It would have been longer, but I just told everyone we were taking a more scenic route and drove halfway across town to get on the open road. I took them all the way up the river and doubled back.”

“I don’t think you’re actually supposed to do that.”

“The passengers loved it. It beat sitting in gridlock listening to a jackhammer.” He straightened up and puffed out his chest. “What do you think? Sexy, or what?”

He was in uniform, a blue polo shirt with the hotel logo and black shorts. He definitely looked sexy with his tanned arms on display, and the color of the shirt brought out his eyes.

“I think you’d probably look good in anything.”

“Thank you,” he took a sip of his beer, and Rory’s stomach flopped as his bright eyes turned naughty and swept down her torso. She knew that he was thinking about her stripped down as she had been the night before. He said nothing, though, instead folding his arms in front of him and wriggling his eyebrows. “So one more night and I’m at your mercy.”

“Yeah, about that, you might want to have a chat with my sister. She seems to think you’re shadowing her.”

“She can think what she wants. Dad says he wants me at the bar.”

“I tried to tell her that but …” Rory shrugged.

“Is she still here?”

“Out on the patio, the last time I saw her.”

He pushed the beer towards her. “Hold onto that for me, would you? I’m setting her straight.”

Rory would have loved to have seen Francie “set straight.” Hell, she could have rounded up the entire kitchen and dining room staff and sold tickets. She discreetly watched through the wall of windows as Noah slipped out onto the waterfront deck and tapped Francie on the shoulder. They moved aside, out of earshot of the diners, and it was clear Francie was trying to reason with him to get her way. Noah clearly lost patience and raised his hands in the air, then spun on his heel.

“That woman did
not
just tell me my father was ‘mistaken.’ Did you see her face? As soon as she said it, you could see she had forgotten who she was talking to.”

“So, are you working with me or not?”

“Hell, yeah, I’m working with you. I told her if she had a problem with it, take it up with my father.”

Rory nearly burst with the need to smile. She swallowed it and placed his drink back in front of him. He caught her wrist before she could pull away, and giddiness zinged through her body like a pinball.

“I have a confession to make. I really was supposed to be washing dishes, but after I met you, I campaigned hard to get behind the bar so I could spend time with you.”

“I don’t think you need to work at the bar if you want to spend time with me.”

“Me neither, but there’s also a part of me that finds bartending cool, like in that old Tom Cruise movie.”

“Let me set you straight right now,” Rory said, her smile escaping at last, “If you so much as think about tossing a bottle back here, I’ll get a wooden spoon from the kitchen to crack you on the knuckles with.”

“You crack me on the knuckles just once, I’ll bend you over my knee and give you a paddling.”

He didn’t laugh after he said it, and Rory got the impression that he was only half joking. She went breathless for a moment, then covered her face with her hands. “It’s going to be a long night with you back here.”

“You can’t wait. And
I
can’t wait to see you tonight. Do you work tomorrow morning?”

“I’d like to, but it’s my day off at Garden View and Francie won’t let me pull a double.”

“Then we can take that midnight drive? There’s something I want to show you.”

“I’ll bet,” she said with a snort, but every part of her was ringing with excitement.

“Now who’s the pervert? Trust me; it’s something you’ll like.” He arched a brow as he raised his glass. “Have I piqued your curiosity?”

“A little. I mean, you are from away. What can you show me that I haven’t seen?”

“Something small but special.”

“Are you trying to butter me up so I don’t make you clean glasses for eight hours?”

“I’m just trying to get you excited,” he said, then lowered his voice as he leaned in. “Not that I’ve had too much trouble with that in the past.”

“
Stop.
”

She turned quickly away from him. Francie had entered the dining room and looked her way. She’d gotten up the ass of other waitresses for flirting with patrons, and Rory expected her sister would love an opportunity to tear a strip off of her for getting too cozy with the boss’s boy.

Noah’s laughter danced around her. “If you tell me to stop, I’m just going to keep doing it. I’ll keep doing it anyway. I love watching you blush.”

“I’m not blushing.”

“So that’s not a blush but a wicked sunburn?”

She whirled around, unable to stop her giggling. “You need to finish up your beer and take off. You’re going to get me into trouble.”

“It would never happen. Your sister may be a robot, but my father owns this place.”

She shushed him as Tom returned with an order for four Coronas. She went to the fridge and collected the drinks, and quirked an eyebrow at Noah as she popped the tops. “You’re lucky you’re only working the bar for one night. Otherwise we’d punk you.”

“How would you do that?”

She delved into the fridge beneath her and grabbed some fresh lime wedges. “Whenever someone new comes to the bar, we convince them that they have to fish the limes out of the beer bottles at the end of their shifts. We tell them we can’t recycle the bottles with the lime in them, and that it’s one of the most important parts of their job because the recycling depot will fine us if we send them bottles with gnarly old limes floating around-- and they
can’t
break the bottles to get them.”

“Are you telling me people are dumb enough to fall for that?”

“I was, only I got tricky. I’d pour the Corona out into a glass and keep the bottle here at the bar. I had a customer sitting right where you are and he asked me why I was doing it, and so I told him. He started laughing and told me that it doesn’t matter, the lime is pulverized when the glass is melted down anyway.”

“And yet you’re mean enough to do it to anyone else who starts working with you?”

“Of course. It’s a rite of passage.”

“I’m sorry I’m going to miss the public humiliation. You’ll have to come up with something else.” Noah drained his glass, slid a twenty on the bar, and narrowed his eyes at her. “Do not give me shit for leaving you a big tip.”