Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

RYLEE

I 'd seen enough of Simon Locke to last a lifetime. Why was he back in my bar, looking at me like I was some rare, delectable dessert he couldn't wait to devour? The way he sauntered in, like he owned the place, made my blood boil. Sure, he could pose for a magazine cover and look sinfully hot, and somehow he was even hotter in person, but I knew better. That was as deep as it got with him. He was hot. End of story. The rest of him? Hard pass. He seemed to think I was amused by the bad boy thing he was trying to pull off. The button-up shirt and slacks were making it hard for me to see him as a bad boy. He was a predator.

He was a rich guy that prowled around flirting with women and expecting them to jump in bed with him. I was not one of those women. I wanted nothing to do with him. He was the kind of guy that grated on my nerves. Then again, I supposed he wasn't all that different from Archer, Ward, or Jameson. They were rich and cocky, and they managed to get the girl.

I walked to the kitchen to put in his order for a steak sandwich. "Hey, Big Money's back," Mike, the cook, muttered, shaking his head. "You need backup?"

"I got this," I replied. "Just another dude thinking he's going to get in my pants if he leaves me a big enough tip."

Mike laughed. "You might want to tell him many a man has tried and failed."

"I have a feeling that would only encourage him." I sighed.

Returning to the bar, I found Locke deep in conversation with a man beside him. Talking business, no doubt. I filled up a glass for an old timer at the end of the bar and took a quick moment to observe Locke.

His dark hair was slightly tousled, like he'd just rolled out of bed. His green eyes were guarded, like he was holding back a lot of secrets. His eyelashes were stupid thick and long. The kind of lashes that any woman would be jealous over. There was something undeniably magnetic about him. I could see why women were drawn to him. He had a young Brad Pitt look but with a clean-cut appearance.

He glanced over and caught me staring at him. Our eyes locked, and for a brief moment, I felt like he was reading my mind. I couldn't look away. Why? What was it about him that I both wanted and loathed at the same time?

"Hey, Rylee," a regular customer called out, breaking the trance I felt myself falling into.

I quickly got him a drink and retreated to the kitchen.

Mike looked up from the grill. "You're hiding."

"No, I'm not," I retorted. "I was just checking to see if his sandwich is done. The sooner he eats, the sooner he leaves."

"Are you sure you want him to leave?" he teased.

"Absolutely," I shot back. But the words were hollow, even to my own ears. I shook my head, clearing any stray thoughts. It was better this way. Letting someone like Simon Locke into my life would be a disaster.

Mike finished up the sandwich and passed it over to me. "Hope he enjoys it," he said with a wink.

I bit back a remark and walked out of the kitchen, tray in hand. Simon was alone once again, likely running off the guy that was picking his brain on how to get rich.

"Anything else?" I asked.

"Your number."

"Not happening."

"You know you want me to call you," he said in a low voice. "Among other things."

I rolled my eyes. "I want you to call me like I want a hole in the head."

His grin widened. "Ouch. You wound me."

"Just eat your sandwich," I chided, trying not to let my own grin slip through. That was the thing about the man. He made it hard to keep up a stern front.

He chuckled as he picked up his sandwich, never taking his eyes off me. "It's delicious, by the way."

"And you haven't even taken a bite yet."

"Doesn't matter. The view is appetizing enough."

I felt my cheeks flush and cursed inwardly. This was exactly what he wanted, to fluster me and get under my skin. Well, two could play that game.

"Enjoy your meal," I said, giving him a mischievous smile before turning on my heels and walking away. I could feel his eyes boring into my back as I moved toward the other customers, focusing on the mundane task of refilling drinks and clearing empty glass bottles.

"Hey, gorgeous," a familiar voice called out. It was another regular who had a crush on me ever since he first stepped foot inside the bar. "Need any help?"

"No, thanks, Derek," I said sweetly, giving him a warm smile. "I got it."

From the corner of my eye, I could see Simon watching our interaction. His face unreadable, his jaw tightened. An odd sense of satisfaction filled me at this. I turned my attention back to my customer, who was now telling me about his latest escapades at his construction job.

While I listened, I was half watching Simon at the other end of the bar. I could feel him watching and trying to eavesdrop. I didn't understand what the guy's deal was. He couldn't possibly be interested in me. He was toying with me and that pissed me off. I might not be some rich socialite or heiress, but I did have feelings.

I poured a couple of drinks for other customers, trying to ignore him. His glass was empty, and he was halfway through his sandwich. Any other customer, I would have been right there to offer another drink and up the ticket. But it was him. I did my best to ignore him. But he was persistent, leaning in closer. "What do you recommend?" he asked, holding up his empty glass.

"Silence," I said flatly, focusing on the drinks in front of me.

He chuckled, clearly not deterred. "Come on, give me a chance. You might find you like me."

"Not likely," I replied, finally turning to face him. "I've put up with more annoying characters than you in this bar, but for some reason, you get under my skin like none of the others."

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Why is that?"

"Because you're wasting your time barking up my tree. I'm leaving in two weeks, and I'm not sure how long I'll be gone."

He flashed a cocky smile. "Cryptic. I like it."

I groaned. This guy was impossible. "I'm not being cryptic. I'm telling you I'm leaving. I know you don't live here, so all of this is a waste of time."

"But we have tonight," he teased.

"Tonight isn't an option," I retorted.

"Tomorrow night?"

It was a dangerous game we were playing, but I was determined to keep my guard up.

"Nope."

"You're making this difficult, you know," he said, the playful glint never leaving his eyes.

"I'm not trying to do anything," my tone was hard as ice, but it didn't seem to deter him at all.

"You're playing with me."

"I'm going traveling. I might not come back, so why don't you just go find some other girl to try your charm on? I'm absolutely positive you'll have more success with her—or with literally anyone else for that matter."

"Where are you going?" he asked, leaning even closer.

I shook my head. "None of your business. But if you must know, Europe."

"Europe is a big place," he pressed.

"I'm not telling you where I'm going," I said, crossing my arms. "Nice try."

"But you're not leaving tomorrow," he pushed.

"No."

His smile grew wider. "Perfect timing. I'm in town for another two weeks before I head back to Houston. I know just how we can pass the time."

"There's no we ," I said firmly.

He shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "You can either go on a date with me tomorrow night, or I can come sit here at your bar for all your shifts until we go our separate ways."

I laughed so hard I nearly choked myself. When I recovered, he was watching me with hooded, dangerous eyes that I wished didn't turn me on. But they did. I also knew to keep all my limbs in the vehicle when a predator was around, and that was just what this billionaire bad boy was. Dangerous. I wasn't going to lose any part of myself to a guy like him. He was a hit ‘em and quit ‘em kind of guy. That was not what I was about. He was the kind of guy that probably had a long list of women in his wake.

"I can make you a promise, Mr. Locke," I said, pouring us each a shot and sliding one to him. "I won't be going on a date with you." I threw the shot back. "Ever."

He watched me, amusement dancing in his eyes as he downed his shot. "We'll see about that."

Just then, Mike came up front to deliver an order, raising an eyebrow at the sight of us. "Everything okay here?"

"Peachy," I said, giving Mike a reassuring smile. "Sorry, I got distracted."

"I was distracting her." Simon grinned.

Mike glanced from me to Simon, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I can see that," he replied. "You good?"

I smiled. "I'm good."

He nodded and walked back to the kitchen.

"He's protective of you," Simon observed, leaning back on his stool.

"Mike's a good guy," I said. "He knows I don't need protecting, though. He's just letting me know he's got my back, but if it came right down to it, I think I would be saving his ass."

"Maybe not," Simon agreed. "But it's nice to know someone has your back."

I sighed, exasperated. "Why are you here, Simon? Really."

He shrugged, his expression suddenly serious. "I told you. I wanted to see you."

"Why?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Because you're interesting," he said simply. "And I don't meet a lot of interesting people."

"I find that hard to believe," I said, shaking my head. "You probably meet all kinds of interesting people."

"Not like you," he said, his gaze intense.

I felt a flush creeping up my neck and quickly turned away, busying myself with another drink order. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"We'll see," he said, his tone light but determined.

The evening wore on, and Simon stayed true to his word, sitting at the bar, watching me, occasionally trying to engage me in conversation. I did my best to ignore him, but it was hard. He had a presence that was impossible to overlook.

"You're persistent, I'll give you that," I said at one point, refilling his drink.

"Comes with the territory," he replied with a wink.

"I bet it does," I muttered, shaking my head.

As the night wound down and the bar started to empty, I found myself strangely reluctant to see him go. Despite my initial annoyance, there was something about him that intrigued me.

"Last call," I announced, looking over at Simon. "You want another drink?"

"Only if you'll join me," he said, his eyes gleaming.

"I'm working."

"You already did one shot with me," he pointed out.

"No, I drank a shot," I corrected. "It had nothing to do with you."

"Do you do that with everyone that comes in here?"

"You sound like a jealous boyfriend," I quipped.

He grinned. "Baby, I'm jealous of no man. I know I have everything a woman needs. She would never need to look anywhere else."

I rolled my eyes. "God, you're full of yourself."