Chapter Five

Brad

Dylan put me on the spot last night. I had planned to email her and let her know I would at least give her an interview, but when her brother was eyeing me, I panicked and agreed. Especially after her cock-squeezing manoeuvre, and me... liking it.

"What's wrong with you?" Ralph, my older brother, asks. "You look constipated."

"Screw off, I'm not constipated. I'm just about to make a shitty choice and I know I shouldn't."

Ralph leans against the bar—he stops in and brings me coffee at least once a week. "You have never made a bad business decision since you opened this place, so why now?" I look at my brother and he smirks. "It's a woman, isn't it?"

I don't answer straight away, which makes him laugh. "I hate to say it, but you are not getting any younger. You know you can run a business and have a girlfriend, right?"

I scoff at him. "No one said anything about wanting a girlfriend."

"So, what does this woman?—"

Ralph is cut off by the door opening. I'm about to tell whoever it is we are closed when Dylan waltzes in. I bite my lip because Dylan in her grungy band shirts and cut-off shorts is hot, but her in a pair of black pants and a white blouse is something else. I release my lip and smile at her unicorn Converse.

"It's her, isn't it?" Ralph whispers. "Oh man, I can't wait to watch this unfold. She is legal, right?"

Leaning over the bar a little, I whisper, "Of course she is—just."

Ralph laughs as Dylan steps up beside him.

"You're here early," is all I can manage to say. She nods and looks at Ralph. I give myself a mental shake and push on. "Dylan, this is my really old brother, Ralph."

Dylan holds out her hand. "It's nice to meet you, but you could pass as the younger brother."

Ralph fucking smiles at her. "It's nice to meet you, Dylan. Brad was just telling me about you needing a job."

"He has been holding out on me, making me work for it."

"I have not. You were underage, and I don't hire children. Ralph is going to interview you, so there is no conflict of interest."

Ralph raises his brow at me as he stands from his chair. "Let's go take a seat. Brad can make us breakfast."

Dylan follows Ralph to a booth by the window, and the fucker sits with his back to me, leaving Dylan in my view. I go back to the kitchen, and since we don't start serving food until eleven, I have no cook here, so I start pulling out ingredients to make a BLT. That's the best the asshole gets.

Once I have their food ready, I head back out into the bar, and Dylan is laughing at something Ralph is saying to her. He isn't even that funny.

"Here's your food," I say, placing the plates on the table.

Dylan looks down at it and lifts a slice of the toast, screwing up her nose. She places the toast back down and slides the plate back towards me.

"Are you not going to eat that?" I ask her, and she shakes her head.

"I hate tomatoes."

I lift the top off the toasted sandwich and remove the tomato. "Fixed."

She gasps. "It is not! Simply removing the tomato doesn't work when its juices have tainted the entire thing."

Ralph just watches me with amusement on his face as I pick up the plate. "Fine, don't eat."

Dylan shrugs. "Can I at least have a coffee?"

I pick up one of the triangles and take a bite, and some of the juice from the tomato slides down my chin.

"See? Now you have juice on your beard," she says, as if that further backs up her point.

"That's what she said." Ralph chuckles, and I glare at him. Since when does my brother make sex jokes? Maybe he got lucky this morning, and it's fresh on his brain.

Dylan laughs at my brother. "Oh, good one, I should add that to my sex list," she says, pulling out a piece of paper from her pocket, along with a mini pen. "Ride Brad's face." She scribbles on the paper as I choke on the mouthful of sandwich I just took. "Calm down, I was kidding about your face. I just wrote it as someone's face."

"I gave Dylan the job," he says, breaking the awkward tension between us. "As long as she does well on her trial."

Fuck my life. Why does the thought of her riding my face sit at the forefront of my mind?

"When should I come back for the trial?" Dylan asks.

"Come back at four—it should be fairly quiet. I will let Henry know you are coming in."

Disappointment washes over her face. "You're not training me?"

"Hell no," I say with a chuckle. "The joy of being the boss is I can pay other people to do that."

"Okay, thanks for the job. I'll be back at four. I'm going to Roman's to work on my tan for a few hours and make sure I'm not too hung over for tonight."

Dylan gets up and excuses herself, and I watch her leave.

"You're so screwed," Ralph laughs out, and I flip him off.

Cece, one of my daytime staff, walks in as Dylan walks out, and she is followed by Josh, my daytime cook. Days at the moment are a lot busier. With university not starting back for a couple of weeks, we get a lot of families coming in to eat. I just don't plan to be here for that; small children having tantrums because they don't want to sit still isn't something I enjoy.

"I am heading out," Ralph says. "You up to going to the range soon? Chad is in."

"Just let me know when you book it and I'm in."

Ralph nods and leaves the bar.

Heading back into the office, I start going through the mountain of paperwork that I've been avoiding. I try not to think about Dylan and her sunbaking. I don't know what it is about Dylan, but I have a hard time saying no to her. I see beyond her hard exterior and I don't know how long I will be able to keep her at arm's length.

My phone dings with a message. Unlocking my screen, I see it's from Henry.

Henry

What's this I hear about me training Dylan? You replacing me bossman?

News travels fast around here. I have no clue how Henry knows already.

Brad

!

Henry

Do you mean question mark?

Henry

You are really showing your age right now.

I don't have a chance to reply. A FaceTime call comes through from Henry, and I groan. I hate talking on the phone, but part of me wants to know how he knows already.

I hit answer and wait for the screen to connect, then I damn near drop my phone. Dylan is standing in front of the camera wearing a tiny black bikini that is having a hard time covering her tits.

"Are you having an aneurysm, old man? Do we need to call an ambulance?" Dylan sasses, and I can hear Henry chuckle in the background. That explains how he knew about Dylan starting work here.

"Cut it with the ‘old' jokes already. What are you doing with Henry? Weren't you going to Roman's?" My mind swirls with possessive thoughts. Henry would be much more suited for Dylan. He's closer to her age, but jealousy bubbles with the thought. Dylan just laughs as she hands the phone to Henry.

"Are you forgetting I'm friends with Grayson?" Henry chuckles. "Relax, bossman. I'm not stepping on your toes, just hanging out with my friends before work tonight."

I slump in my chair. "I don't need to relax. You aren't stepping on my toes."

"Keep telling yourself that. Now that I know you aren't dying, I'm off. I'll see you later," he says, disconnecting the call.

Little shit. If he wasn't good at his job, I'd consider firing him. But I need him to train Dylan because there is no way in hell I'm going to be able to work closely with her and not touch her.