Perfect Chaos Page 2

  I toyed with all the hotties to keep up appearances, but this guy was … special. I had to get his attention and a week ago, I got it. Now he flirted with me, and I suspected soon I’d have his number and a date.

  Tristan strode toward me: tall, lean and with confidence written all over him. His looks matched his overbearing personality, short black hair, matching dark brows and a square jaw. Definite eye-candy except for the fact his intensity would scare the shit out of most women. Luckily, I wasn’t most women.

  “Tristan, you’re looking make-out worthy, as usual.” I lowered my voice so it sounded kind of husky and just loud enough for him to hear. “If only I could be your coffee cup.”

  He definitely caught what I said because his brows raised a minute amount and the corner of his mouth twitched. A blue streak of my hair fell forward over my shoulder and he reached out and lifted it, caressing the long, fine hairs between his fingers.

  “Blue?”

  Yesterday, I had pink streaks, but blue was Tristan’s favorite color according to his choice in car and the dress shirts he always wore. I really didn’t give a shit what color my hair was, except I’d never do orange. Didn’t liked the color and besides, it would clash with my green eyes.

  I winked. “Was feeling a little blue last night.” Actually, that wasn’t a lie. My friends Emily and Kat were out of town, and our usual Sunday brunch at my place was put on hold. And Deck … yeah, he was on some dangerous mission overseas which I hated. My life was supposed to be easier with him gone—and it was without him watching over me—and yet, it wasn’t because I worried about him. I missed him constantly, but when he was here, it was … painful.

  I glanced over my shoulder at Rylie. “Tristan’s usual, babe.”

  “My girl can’t be blue.” My girl? That was new. He could call me whatever the hell he wanted as long as I got what I needed. “I may have to do something about that.” My hair slipped from his grasp as he reached into his pocket, pulled out a five and slid it toward me. “Dinner?”

  Finally. Progress. I put my hand on my hip and smiled. “You’re smokin’ hot, but dating you is against the rules of the establishment.” Tristan was a challenge, and therefore he’d like a challenge. Kissing his feet, so to speak, just wouldn’t hack it with this guy.

  “Isn’t this your coffee shop?”

  How did he know that? I didn’t have it posted anywhere and had never mentioned it. I was betting he had some poor sap with ankle-length dress pants sitting at a crappy desk in an office with no windows researching chicks Tristan wanted to fuck. “My place, my rules. Dating clients is at the top of the list of ‘fuck no’.”

  He laughed and it was a rumbling sound which, if I was interested, would’ve done something for me. I wasn’t. At least, not in any sexual capacity. “Clients? It’s a coffee shop.”

  Asshole. A coffee shop was a business and mine was damn successful. I slid my hand across the counter and took his five, making certain my finger brushed against his. Then I hit the cash button and the drawer bounced open with a loud ding. “And I take pride in my work place. Besides, if you sucked in bed, I’d have to ask you not to come here again. You know … reminders and really awkward.”

  He placed his palms on the counter and his playful smile disappeared. “I do suck in bed, Georgie.” His voice lowered as he leaned closer. “I suck until you scream and beg.”

  I bit my lower lip, the five-dollar bill still in my grasp now crumpled in a ball, and despite not wanting him, that was friggin’ hot.

  “That won’t be happening.”

  I yelped at the deep, familiar voice behind Tristan and my heart took off at break-neck speed. My body became a fucked-up concoction of relief that he was back safe, sexual heat and nerves sparking. Deck being near me was a love-hate thing. Jesus, my life was a fireball rolling down a really dangerous path.

  Rylie giggled as she slid Tristan’s espresso across the counter then pinched my butt. I shot my gaze to her and glared; she smiled, her pearl-white teeth gleaming. She was laughing her ass off at me: One for yelping like a girlie-girl and two for being caught unaware by Deck. I hated that, but Deck could sneak up on a friggin’ mouse. “You could’ve warned me,” I mumbled to her.

  She shrugged. “Could’ve, but that’s no fun.”

  “Bitch.”

  She laughed then hesitantly smiled at Deck. “Hey, Deck.”

  Although his eyes remained on me, he nodded to Rylie. And when Deck looked at me, it was like he was touching my entire body with his hands—penetrating. Shit, that word and Deck so had to stay clear of one another.

  I pushed the ball of money into the till, grabbed a coin then shut the cash drawer with my hip. I passed the change to Tristan who was now half-turned and looking at Deck.

  Deck was about an inch taller than Tristan and more muscular, yet still lean and agile-looking. He had tatts running down both arms and a tribal design crawling up the side of his neck. His black t-shirt fit snug to the hills and valleys of his muscles, and I knew underneath that shirt was a plethora of hard abs. I had, after all, woken up in his bed after he’d hauled me out of some bar or party. Of course, Deck always crashed on the couch, but I’d seen him with his shirt off a number of times. Sometimes, I wish I hadn’t because it certainly didn’t make my life any easier.

  Deck had that intimidating factor. Confident. Unyielding. And the guy hid his emotions like they were in a vault. Not knowing how to read him made him unpredictable like he was right now. He could either let Tristan walk away, or he’d make Tristan walk away and I’d lose a client and the date I needed.

  “Sweetpea, you’re back.” Just looking at Deck made me want to kiss him. It took everything in me to just stand there and not leap over the counter and jump into his arms. In all the years we’d known one another, I’d never felt his lips on me. I never would, either. I knew that. I’d been told that. I’d been warned to keep it that way.

  Deck had no interest in me anyway. I was a pain in his ass. If he only knew how much of a threat I was to him.

  Tristan frowned and his eyes flashed with annoyance. “Boyfriend?”

  I laughed. “Nope. Master.” Tristan’s brows rose and Deck’s lowered even further. “Kidding.” Well, sort of. “Badass is a friend—of sorts. You know, the kind of friend you can’t get rid of. Kick him in the ass and he just keeps coming back like a lost puppy dog.” But Deck was no puppy dog. More like a fire-breathing dragon.

  Tristan pocketed his coin then curled his hand around his espresso, lifted it and took a sip like he always did. It was as if he wanted to be certain we hadn’t fucked up his order which we never did unless it was on purpose. “Interesting analogy,” he drawled. “Not sure it fits.” Yeah, it was more like Deck was the bull and I was the red cape. Tristan nodded to me. “Like the blue. My number’s on the five dollar bill.”

  And success.

  A week ago, I’d messed up his espresso and loaded five tablespoons of sugar in it and half milk. That sip he always took ended up in my face in a spray of hot liquid. It was the first time he’d ever really looked at me; the guy always had his eyes on his phone. I had winked at him and the annoyance in his expression disappeared and was replaced by a scowl. I had calmly wiped the coffee from my face with a napkin then reached across and dabbed the corners of his mouth. I passed him his real espresso and said, “You have sexy-as-hell eyes. Might want to use them every now and then.” At first, he just watched me intensely for a few seconds as if assessing me. I didn’t flinch or waver, merely stared back at him with a half-cocked smile. I think he liked that because slowly, a grin formed and then he chuckled.

  Now, he came in every day and made eye contact and conversation.

  I glanced up at Deck who didn’t look at all perturbed by Tristan’s invitation. Typical. I lowered my voice but knew Deck could still hear me. “Just so we’re clear, I don’t do relationships. One-nighters only.”

  Tristan burst out laughing. “I can do that. Call me.” And then he nodded to D
eck and headed for the door. I was impressed; Tristan wasn’t at all threatened by him.

  I smiled, looking at Deck. Yep, he was clenching his fists and ready to throttle me. The guy was super-protective ever since my brother died. Well, two years after that actually, because Deck vanished the day he told me Connor was dead. I saw him briefly at the funeral, but he didn’t stick around.

  Every day, I expected him to come back. If I heard a car door shut outside my house, my heart would start to race and I’d run to the window to see if it was him. Or if I’d get an email from an unknown address, I’d open it with my breath held hoping it was from Deck. It never was.

  Then things changed and I stopped waiting, and stopped caring.

  When he did finally come back, I tried to avoid him, but avoiding Deck was like pushing away a cement truck with your baby finger. It just wasn’t happening. We argued about it … okay, I argued while he merely ignored me. He said he left because he had to go back to his team overseas. I didn’t fault him for that. What I was pissed off for was he never contacted me. Then I felt stupid because why the hell would he keep in contact with his best friend’s kid sister?

  Deck was fearless, something I completely lacked when I was sixteen, and it drew me to him. Despite him being intimidating with the way he seemed to own an entire room, sometimes when he looked at me I saw a softness that made my heart pound and my stomach flutter.

  Connor told me Deck had spent time in Juvie then on the streets. When I’d asked what he’d done, Connor shrugged it off and said nothing he wouldn’t have done himself. That made him a bit of a mystery, which intrigued me.

  The thing was I’d only technically met him three times before my brother died. Once, he stayed with us for two weeks when he and Connor were on leave from the Army. Then before he and Connor went for training with the JTF2: Joint Task Force, an elite anti-terrorist unit. And again when they came home from duty. I’d asked Connor why Deck always came to our place, and he told me he didn’t really have any other place to go. I’d asked what about his family, but Connor just shrugged and said the team was Deck’s family.

  Then Connor died and shit changed.

  I hated that Deck saw me break that day. I hated that he lived and my brother died, and I hated that I’d wanted him to hold me and take the pain away. Then I hated him more because he didn’t. Deck was everything I wasn’t that day—strong, controlled and unafraid.

  Then he left and my life catapulted into the same darkness I’d seen in Deck’s eyes. There was no question I was completely fucked up after that. My parents had been so caught up in their own grief they assumed I was just grieving, as well, and I was, but it was much more than that. It was the hell I suffered for months after Connor’s death. Deck didn’t know it, but it was thoughts of him which gave me the strength to survive what I went through. He was my solid.

  The door swung closed after Tristan, and I watched him fold back into his car then drive away. Deck hadn’t moved, and I felt the heat in my belly burn as he watched me. After all these years, he still unnerved me. The man could be standing on the other side of a football field and still make me quiver. I just wasn’t sure yet if it was quivering with nerves or quivering because I was turned on. I was going with a blend, and that could—and would—destroy me if he got too close.

  I glanced over my shoulder for Rylie, but she had snuck away to clean tables which didn’t need cleaning. Tanner, an old friend of sorts, sat at a table tapping away on his laptop with his earphones in, hat pulled down low over his face. He glanced up at me, then at Deck, frowned and went back to typing. Tanner didn’t really like Deck, although they’d never formally met and never would.

  Deck approached me. He was my only weakness and no matter what I did, I couldn’t get him out of me. And I’d tried.

  I smiled. “Hey, baby, when did you get back?” He hated when I called him ‘baby’ and I knew this by the way the muscles in his arms tightened. “Kill anyone this trip?” I was gambling he had.

  “You planning on dating him?”

  Straight to the point, as always. I raised my brows. “Who?”

  Deck scowled. “Georgie.”

  “Come on, Deck. You don’t know already?” His brows lowered. “Well, he’s been coming here for three weeks.” Deck’s security cameras would’ve told him that. When I’d bought the coffee shop, he’d had them installed, said they were a deterrent for burglars. I knew it was another way for Deck to keep his eye on me.

  His men came and collected the footage randomly and I was betting Deck had them research every regular customer who walked in my shop. Last week, I gave them all a treat. After I closed, I blared the music and did an erotic dance standing on the counter right in front of the camera. My guess, Deck hadn’t seen that yet or I’d have heard about it.

  “You know who that guy is?” he asked.

  I crossed my arms, more to cover my nipples, which I knew were erect from the shivers coursing down my spine. “In what context? Because my guess is who he is in the bedroom is entirely different than who he is when he walks in here.” I let my voice trail off at the end, which was probably a good idea because Deck’s scowl was pretty menacing. “Guess I’ll find out now that I have his number.” I pressed the button on the till, and it dinged and popped open. Then I took the five-dollar bill Tristan gave me and smoothed it out. “Maybe a threesome would be—”

  “Not in the mood, Georgie.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re never in the mood.”

  He knew exactly what I was referring to as I teased him all the time about us having sex. Of course, I was off the menu.

  He went to grab the bill from me and I quickly shoved it in my pocket. “That’s this week’s one-nighter.”

  “You don’t have one-nighters and if you did, I’d be stopping them.”

  True, sorta, kinda. I’d never had a one-night stand, but really that was my choice, not his. But I let him think what he wanted. I scrunched my nose then went and poured him a black coffee. “Vagina blocker,” I mumbled, but he heard because I saw the corners of his lips twitch when I looked over my shoulder at him. Nice to know he liked some of my humor.

  I’d dated several men over the years, and Deck did his overprotective thing and checked them out. He probably knew more about the guys I dated than I did. The thing was I had to be careful about the men I didn’t want him checking into. Tristan … well, as far as I knew, there was nothing on him except he owned Mason Development and dated a lot of women.

  Deck placed a five on the counter when I came back with his black coffee. I never took the money. Well, I did because he insisted, but I placed it in a pink elephant piggy bank I kept under the counter. There was no reason why I did this except I didn’t want his money and he refused to take free coffee. So, I put it in the piggy bank and saved it. He knew I did it—shit, Deck knew just about everything I did … except what was the most important. What bothered me was being bothered in a way I couldn’t ease except with a battery-operated device named Deck.

  “You off work now?”

  “Is that a question, Deck? Really?” Deck didn’t ask questions he already knew the answers to and he knew exactly what time I left the coffee shop on Tuesdays. “You must want something from me. Ah, I know, you’ve missed carrying me out of bars these last few weeks you’ve been away? Well, I’d let you do it here, but my one customer might think you’re kidnapping me.”

  “I want you to stop drinking.” No bullshit, Deck. Straight to the heart of what was pissing him off, and as usual, it was me. “What the fuck, Georgie? Every night? What the hell is going on with you?”

  “Not every night. And I like to go out.” I’d been overdoing it lately because my girls were gone and Deck or his men had been watching me closer than usual. Tanner had warned me to cool it on the drinking thing.

  “What was with last weekend?” He must have heard already about my little episode at Avalanche on Saturday.

  “I wasn’t that drunk. And the band asked me to
get on stage and sing with them.” Semi-sort of truth. The band had asked me to get on stage, but the singing part was all me. I’d been seeking the attention of a guy who was alone drinking in the back of the bar. I knew the type of guy. He wouldn’t go for a chick who threw herself at him, so I got it another way. And I was good at what I did, but getting carried off stage by security was not in the plans.

  “We need to talk,” Deck said.

  Oh, that couldn’t be good. Deck needing to talk meant he was talking, I was listening and then he laid down more rules. Luckily, he hadn’t yet tapped my phone or computer. I suspected if that happened, all hell would break loose. And it was a hell he wasn’t going to be cool with. “Can’t.” I grabbed my purse from under the counter and made for the back exit. “Just scored a date. I have to wash my hair.” A lie. I wouldn’t be calling Tristan for at least a week.

  “Georgie.” That warning tone sent tremors down my spine. Yeah, I liked it. How totally screwed up was that? I was pretty immune to most men—I’d trained myself to be—and yet, Deck was my kryptonite. The worst part was everyone knew it, which made it dangerous for him and me.

  I didn’t want to talk about the drinking. It was a never-ending conversation, and one I wasn’t going to fix anytime soon. But what I didn’t like was that Emily had mentioned it before she left with her fiancé’s band, Tear Asunder, a few weeks ago. Hearing it from her hit hard, because I knew her mom was a real shitty mom who’d been a drunk. I hated worrying Emily like that, but that was who I’d become to everyone. I liked to party, had a sassy mouth and lived under Deck’s thumb. For now, it was staying that way.

  I made it into the stock room all the way to the emergency exit before Deck grabbed my arm, hauling me to a stop. I didn’t struggle, there was no point. He’d win.

  I sighed and leaned against the door. “Okay, sexy. Let’s get this over with.”

  Deck stepped in close. So close, I could feel the beat of his heart against my breasts and his warm breath tickled the fine hairs on my skin. He loosened his grip on my arm then his other hand came up and cupped my chin. My insides were having an all-out rave and I was wishing I hadn’t worn my thong. I needed grannie panties with what was happening between my legs. No control when it came to Deck. Jesus.