9. Brynne

Chapter 9

Brynne

A s to be expected, the diner was slow. A couple was seated in the far corner by the window, and our usual customer sat at the bar. Outside, fog clouded the streets, making visibility poor enough that you could barely see the road through the glass. Though it was midday, the street lights were on in an unsuccessful attempt to lighten the stagnant gray clouds. All the lampposts did was create an eerie glow through the mist, the light not touching the ground.

McKenna popped her bubblegum next to me as I stood lost in thought behind the counter, thinking of what I did in front of Booker yesterday. He'd barely looked at me and popped a vibrator on my clit and I came undone. I didn't think I'd been so turned on before in my life, and it was all due to the way his gaze devoured me.

His eyes held control in a way I'd never seen before, and images of him wearing the half skeleton mask flashed in my mind. Even covering himself, he commanded a room. Hell, he could probably order an entire town around hidden behind that mask, and they'd not think twice about obeying.

And when he'd told me not to come…my body had no choice but to heed his demand. Then, when I'd gone up to my room, I'd tested his name on my lips and came again just to the memory of his eyes alone. The way he had this much power over me so soon after meeting him was dangerous, if not reckless.

Chase never had that effect on me. He was all dark blonde hair, blue eyes, and well-manicured hands. Booker was rough in every aspect of the word. With his voice, the set of his brows, the way he held himself. When he'd slipped that vibrator over my clit, he knew exactly where to set it, and the knowledge that he knew his way around a woman like that—well, the thought alone built heat between my legs where I stood, causing me to adjust my stance in order to hide the thoughts that were swirling through my mind.

"You're not at the motel anymore, then, right?" McKenna asked, twirling her finger around the end of her blonde ponytail.

I'd told her the gist of what transpired over the last seventy-two hours, but with a few interruptions, I'd left some details out. "Nope."

She wagged her eyebrows at me, a hip propped against the silver edge of the counter. "So you're saying you're in his room, then."

My mouth popped open as I fought my body's natural reaction to blush. "No fucking way."

She set a hand on the speckled counter. "I saw them! The one you said…"

She searched her memory for his name, so I filled in the blank. "Booker."

"Booker!" She slapped her hand on the flat surface. "And his friend. They were cute! It wouldn't be that bad to land in bed with at least one of them."

I grabbed a rag from behind the bar, along with a spray bottle filled with anti-bacterial solution. "It would be bad."

I spritzed the counter, then wiped in circular motions.

A gasp escaped McKenna's mouth and I cringed.

"You already slept with him!" she blurted.

I widened my eyes, shooting her a look that screamed shut up . "I did not," I whisper-shouted back.

Doug, one of our regulars, adjusted his newspaper, not bothering to look at the two of us where we gossiped not three feet from him. "She definitely did."

McKenna pointed a finger his way. "See. Even he can tell."

I kept scrubbing, like that'd make her stop talking about it. It wouldn't. McKenna would keep nagging me until she knew the full truth, and even then, she'd want to know more.

I stepped closer to her, mumbling, "Okay. Fine. He made me…you know."

Her chewing jaw ceased for a moment as she thought on that. "He made you orgasm?!"

The whole fucking diner turned our way.

Doug, the poor sap that he was, peered over the paper, his reading glasses low on his nose.

I grabbed McKenna's arm, pulling her through the swinging door to the kitchen. I whirled on her. "You can't just announce that! "

But she didn't care. Not with that beaming smile spreading her lips wider than I'd ever seen before. "Was he good?"

"We didn't sleep together," I said in a hushed, hurried tone.

"Wait, so he went down on you?"

I shook my head, but before I could answer her, a pissed off voice yelled from the front, "Where the fuck is Brynne Hansley?"

Our eyes widened as we moved to peer through the circular window. Instantly, I knew it wasn't Booker or Chase. Whoever it was, they were pissed, and if I had to guess by the use of my name, that anger was aimed towards me.

I had half a mind not to go back through the door, but then the bull of a man grabbed Doug by the collar of his shirt, lifting him out of his seat. "I said where the fuck is she?!"

McKenna tried to grab my arm, knowing damn well that announcing I was here wouldn't end well, but I had no choice. The man seemed like he would tear this place apart brick by brick until he found me.

I shoved through the door, evading her grasp, and said, "Right here."

The man was a lot more intimidating on this side of the window, and I instantly regretted my decision. There was no going back now. Not as he tossed Doug aside like a piece of meat, then jumped over the counter, closing in on me. I didn't move. If I did, I'd look scared, but quite frankly, I was fucking petrified.

His unsettling gaze roamed over my body, head to toe, before his face was in mine. He had a good foot and a half on me at least, but he crouched, which somehow made him all the more intimidating. That, and his bald head and full beard.

"Where'd your little boyfriend run off to, skank?"

The insult made me want to coil in on myself.

"He's not my boyfriend."

But bull man didn't give a shit. He grabbed my shirt in both fists, shoving me back so that the edge of the counter dug into my lower back. The awkward angle in which he held me hurt like hell, but again, I refused to show it.

"You want to keep lying now?"

McKenna moved like she wanted to step in, but he'd just toss her aside like he did Doug, and I didn't want my best friend getting hurt because of this pig. Subtle enough so he wouldn't see, I sent her a slight hand gesture to stay put.

"I'm not lying. If he isn't at his house, then I have no clue where he is."

His fists tightened, his jaw clenching. "Don't play the little innocent act. I see right the fuck through it."

"Then you must need your eyes checked, because there's nothing to see through."

I probably shouldn't have said that, because next thing I knew, my body was shoved harder against the counter, pain surging up my back.

"Next time, you better know where he is. Otherwise, I'll take you as his payment."

He dropped me to the ground, my feet hitting the linoleum with a thud. Rather than jumping back over like before, he walked around the bar, leaving the diner.

McKenna was next to me in an instant, her hand on my arm. "Who the fuck was that?"

One of my hands rubbed at my chest, the other on my lower back. "No idea, and I don't care to find out."

Her fingers shook slightly, and I felt terrible for it. "What if he comes back?"

"He won't," I said. "And if he does, he'll figure out soon enough that I have no information to give him."

But he'd given me intel he didn't know I benefited from.

The couple from the booth had darted out as soon as the man jumped the counter, but Doug remained, staring at us from where he stood. "You ladies alright?"

I nodded. "Fine. Thanks, Doug. Sorry he took things out on you."

He waved me off, grabbing his newspaper and folding it into a neat rectangle. "It takes a lot more than that to rattle me. But whatever he wants, he's motivated. I'd be careful if I was the two of you."

With a swallow, I said, "We will."

At least, as best we could.

Booker, Henley, and Austin were nowhere to be found when I'd gotten back to the ranch after my shift, so I'd headed upstairs, hiding away in my room. I was fully content with spending the rest of the night in this bed. The mattress was softer than any other I'd slept in before, the comforter like a giant cloud against the lingering pain in my lower back. There was no better way to be wrapped than in the comfort of these blankets, and I hoped like hell none of them would check on me. Not that they would, anyway. I meant nothing to them. I was here for one purpose, and that was to get them their deed back. The information I now had could wait until tomorrow when I wasn't so shaken up.

I hated even thinking the words, knowing that I'd let that guy get to me. Rattling me was his every intention, and he'd been successful. Giving him that satisfaction, even if he didn't know it right now, filled me with disappointment and rage. Both feelings were aimed towards myself—knowing that I was so weak for letting my mind dwell on what happened for this long.

With the white comforter pulled up to my chin and my head buried in a pillow, I heard the door softly open. If the house hadn't already been silent, I wouldn't have known, but who stood in the entry to the room was all too obvious as Booker's presence filled the space.

"Almost thought you packed up and left," Booker said, his voice coming from the doorway.

"Nope." My voice was muffled by the comfy cloud enveloping me.

Silence stuck to the air like tape on paper, and I almost thought he may have left, but then he spoke again. "Good day at work?"

I stared at the creamy pillow case with what little light wafted into the room from the open door. The sun had already set by the time I got home, and I hadn't bothered to turn on any lights or change my clothes before crawling into bed.

"It was fine," I replied blandly.

Even if it wasn't, what did he care? Why was he standing there trying to make small talk as if this was some kind of friendship? Or relationship, even. It was none of that. We were hardly acquaintances, and from the few impressions I had of Booker, he didn't seem like a chatty guy.

Boots stomped on the hardwood, turning muffled as they passed onto the rug, then the comforter was yanked off the bed, exposing me.

"Hey!" I yelled, sitting up.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he grumbled.

"I should be asking you that!"

His furious eyes took in my uniform. "You're wearing fucking work clothes in bed and moping like a wet fucking cat. What the fuck happened?"

"Nothing fucking happened," I shot back, getting up on my knees to lean over the edge of the bed in an attempt to grab the blanket.

Before I could grasp the fabric, an arm looped around my waist, and I was tossed back at the pillows, bouncing slightly on the mattress.

"What the fuck, Booker!"

His lips were pressed into a firm line. "Talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," I said, digging my fingers into the pillow. My skirt had risen up my thighs, and I was well aware he could see my underwear with my legs bent up to my chest.

"This ain't fucking high school, Darlin'." He leaned closer, grabbing the edge of my skirt and yanking it toward himself. "Now put on your fucking big girl panties and tell me why you're laying in this bed like you'd rather it be a coffin."

Sheesh. And he thought I was dramatic?

"Chase still has the deed."

Booker froze, then a second later, his brows pulled inward. "How do you know that?"

"I just do."

He pulled the fabric harder, and I swore it'd tear. "You go see him today? Huh, Brynne?" Then, his voice dropped, and our mouths were inches apart. "Your little orgasm yesterday not enough for your needy little pussy?"

I had to press my lips together in order to stop the tremble that threatened to show. I couldn't let him see how he got under my skin. "One of his friends visited me at work." He didn't need to know the guy probably wasn't a friend of Chase's.

A pulse ticked in his jaw. "What do you mean, visited?"

I supposed there was no point in trying to lie now. "Visited, as in he jumped over the counter and grabbed me. Told me I'd be his payment if Chase didn't hand it over."

Booker's eyes flashed, violence so potent swirling in the depths of his irises. "Where did he touch you."

My breathing was almost nonexistent as I slowly brought my hand up to the collar of my shirt.

He didn't look at the placement, but he knew. "What did he do."

I swallowed the rock threatening to choke me. "He shoved me against the counter." The words were quiet, full of breath.

His jaw moved as he ground his teeth together, the movement the only sound in the room as my lungs ceased to work. That look on his face—it was one I never wanted aimed towards me.

He let go of my skirt and stepped away from the bed, not meeting my gaze. "You've got chores tonight, so get dressed and out to the barn."

Then he left, taking all the oxygen in the room with him.

I had a feeling I'd need to get used to him leaving.