My Mind's Eye (Pub Fiction #1) (10 page)

The club’s doors are unlocked. Since it’s only three o’clock, I wasn’t sure he’d be here; I’m not too sure of his schedule yet. But I know he posts our hours every Sunday for the upcoming two weeks.

I walk into the open bar area, but then stopping when I hear the sounds of two male voices. They sound like they’re having a lot of fun. Curious, I step closer in the direction where the voices are coming from. I end up stopping in my tracks in order to take in the scene in front of me.

“Awesome, Jacob, you did it,” I hear a vaguely familiar, gruff voice boom with excitement. But it isn’t until I get closer that I see who Ryker is talking to. He’s sitting in one of the booths with a young boy, who looks to be about twelve, giving him a high-five. He has a genuine look of pride on his face, and I can see what looks to be math homework spread out on the table.

“It’s all because of you, Ryk. I never would have gotten that equation right if it wasn’t for your help. I’m glad my mom convinced me to ask you to help me.”
Oh my God, Ryker as a tutor, a mentor? How sweet is that?

“No way, Jacob. That, my friend, was all you. It’s been all your hard work over the last few weeks. I have no doubt you’ll ace that test next week.” The little boy’s smile is huge; I can’t help but stand there to eavesdrop for a bit longer.

“How about I grab us some ice cream to celebrate?”

“Yes! I’d like that, but my mom will be here soon. We better hurry up. She’ll be pissed if I ruin my dinner.”

“Language, Jacob, not cool,” Ryker warns and I hide a giggle at the pot calling the kettle black on that one.

Jacob raises his hands in mock defeat. “Oh right, coming from Mr. Holier-than-thou,” Jacob taunts back. I stifle another giggle at his witty comment.

“Let’s go, you little pain, before I change my mind and move on to fractions,” Ryker says, scruffing Jacob’s hair as they head toward the kitchen.

I can’t help but smile at how cute they are, at how cute it is to see Ryker in this light. Who would have thought a guy like Ryker would be patient enough to tutor? From what I’ve seen so far, he kind of comes across as a hothead. Maybe there’s some depth to him after all. Not wanting to be seen, I move quickly down the hall ducking into the staff room.

***

As I round the corner, coming from Levi’s office with our schedules in my purse, I text Brooke about a possible shift change. I’m right in the middle of hitting the send button when the next thing I know—BAM!—I’m on my ass and my cell phone is skidding across the hardwood toward the bar.

“Dammit!” I shout, sitting there stunned for a few moments before getting my bearings. As I right myself, I look up because I hear a familiar growl.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Standing in front of me with a scowl, and again this fucking growling sound, is none other than
Ryker Eddison
with a dented container of ice cream at his feet.

I am so annoyed at this point; it doesn’t matter if it may have, in fact, been my fault for not watching where I was going. Again, why I don’t love cell phones.

“Um, well…I hear sorry is popular,” I tell him with a glare. He gives me nothing, just stares back at me, but it’s intense and I feel it deep within my bones. “Er, you know, like, usually when two people collide, the brute force apologizes…” Still nothing. “That would be you here, Ryker. You are the brute who took me out. You should say,”—I air quote—“‘Sorry, Kat, are you all right?’”

Again, not a sound.

“Are you familiar with the concept?” I ask, annoyed.

Radio silence.

I wait for his response, a reaction, but he continues to stare at me with what appears to be a hint of a smirk forming in the corner of his lips.
Jesus, he’s pretty, though.

I take a better look at the entity standing intimately close to me now, causing my pulse to race. He really is one mountain-o’-hotness.
Too bad he’s an ass. Well, to me, anyway.

“You can’t talk to me? What, I’m so ‘useless’ to you that you don’t want to waste your words on me? Fine.” I start to move around him, but the next thing I know, I’m pressed flat against him, chest-to-chest, nose-to-chin. His hands are gripping my waist, pushing me against his rock hard body. His hard-on pushing into me.

“Not sorry, not fuckin’ close to being sorry,” he growls in a deep baritone voice that has me clenching my legs from its intensity as the impact of his words vibrate into my neck. He keeps us still for a few moments as he breathes me in deep. “I like you close like this, I am
not
sorry,” he says, before laying a kiss to the side of my lobe, tracing his lips down to the juncture of my neck. He releases his hold on me and walks away without another peep
. Fuck me.

***

Pulling out of Pub Fiction’s parking lot, glancing at Ryker’s truck getting smaller in the rearview mirror, I can’t help but think about what just happened or about how good-looking he really is. I know I’m not supposed to refer to a man as being “beautiful,” but, hot damn, if there’s a better word to describe Ryker right now, it’s beyond me.
How did I not notice the rest of him before?
I mean, I saw him my first day, but didn’t get a chance to really check him out, between the growl and the asshat comment to Luke, how could I? Yes, he was clearly good-looking, but up this close is completely different. On top of those killer honeybutter eyes, his face is flawless with smooth, tanned skin and a strong jaw with a light casting of stubble along it and his chin. And those lips…full and taunting. I feel as if they’re teasing me, begging for my touch, waiting for me to kiss them…oh, God, how I could suck on them for days!

It’s obvious he takes pride in the way his body looks because, man, oh man, let me tell you, a girl could lose weeks thinking about the things she would like to do to that body. I’d love to climb up that man, that’s for sure.
Oh, my gosh, where did that come from?

Holy hell, though, his fucking cut biceps alone could make me forget my name and leave me panting—maybe even begging—for just one lick, one taste, one touch. Seriously, Ryker Eddison is
hot!

I can’t deny that, besides being all kinds of delicious, there’s something about him that intrigues me. It’s like he calls to me on another level. When I think of him, I get this desire to explore why he affects me the way he does, especially because I don’t know him. Is he safe? A good guy? But I can’t lie, despite any reservations I may have, I’d really like to know him, the real him. I’m curious to learn what makes him tick, what makes him happy, what makes him Ryker. The one thing I do know is I need to proceed with caution with whatever I decide where he is concerned. Ever since that first day, I can’t seem to get over this feeling that he wanted to get to know me, too. With the way he looks at me, and the few interactions we’ve had, I think it’s obvious we’re attracted to each other. That is what I think scares me the most. I don’t know him and he affects me like no other, and I hope, just maybe, I affect him on the same level. I smile at the thought as I pull into our driveway.

“What the hell happened to you? Did you meet a boy? You met a boy!” Claire immediately greets me as I open the car door and step out.

“Were you voluntarily taking out the garbage?” I tease her, as she’s holding a recycling bin in her hand.

“Ha, ha, don’t bother trying to deflect, Kitty Kat. I saw your face as you pulled in; you had on your ‘I’m so friggin’ excited’ smile. Ah, Kat,” she raises her hand to stop me from talking, “I know you better than you know yourself sometimes. Something happened.” I can’t hide the smile on my face at her excitement.

“Nah, I’m just happy to see my best friend dealing with the garbage, that’s all it is,” I say and she smacks my arm as we make our way inside.

With Claire on to me and Ryker taking up my thoughts, it’s fair to say that
I am so fucked.

Chapter 9

Kat

I
t’s Wednesday and I’m working with Naomi for the first time since I heard about her from Levi at my training shift. I’ve heard she’s really nice from Brooke, who has been nothing but welcoming. I’m not as nervous as I thought I might have been. I’m hoping I can get some info on Ryker from her, too.

Ryker’s kind of become this anomaly to me. From my experience, I know he’s a jerk, but maybe I’m wrong. After seeing him with Jacob the other day, I can’t help wonder if it’s all a front, the whole asshole gig he’s got going. Maybe he really
is
a nice guy? I haven’t seen much of him lately because we work on the complete opposite shifts.
Thank goodness.
I say this because I could see myself giving in to this attraction even-though I really don’t think he’s the type of man I need to let into my life. He’s one I’d easily get myself worked up over. It’s clear he likes to send mixed signals and he’s not looking to get into a committed relationship.

“Kat! I’m so excited to work with you,” Naomi hollers with a huge smile on her face as I make my way out of the staff room and head behind the bar. “How has it been going? Do you like the job? The staff?” she asks excitedly.

I quickly tell her how great the place is, how the tips have been incredible, and how I can’t believe I’ve already been working here a few weeks. As Naomi and I are logging ourselves into the new Point Of Sale system, a girl storms up to the bar.

“Excuse me,” the girl says, “I’m looking for Ryker. Is he here?”

Naomi gives me a knowing smile, and says, “Um, no, he’s off tonight. Can I take a message for him? He should be in tomorrow.” Naomi pauses, waiting for the girl to respond. The girl just stands there scowling as if contemplating something. This causes Naomi to sigh, clearly irritated; it seems this isn’t the first time Naomi has had to deal with this sort of thing.

“Son of a bitch, I knew he was lying to me. What an asshole. Do you, uh, can you give me his number? He forgot to leave it with me last night when we were chatting when I stopped in to see him. He said he would call me, but then I realized he forgot to get my number.”

I can’t help but hope that maybe Ryker didn’t really forget her number, that maybe he’s not interested in her.

“Sorry, what did you say your name was?” Naomi asks.

“Taylor,” she sighs, then begins tapping her nails on the bar’s surface.

“Well, Taylor, I’m sorry,” Naomi says, “but it’s not my place to give out Ryker’s number. If he wanted you to have it, he would definitely have given it to you.” I smile, mentally giving Naomi a high-five. “But I’ll gladly give him a message for you.”

“Well, okay, but I know he’d want me to have it. You see, a few months ago, we were a thing, if you know what I mean,” she says, raising her eyebrows, “but then I had to go away for a while. Now I’m back. I really need to get in touch with him. I have a welcome back present to give him,” she says proudly, and I assume she means a sexual present considering the way she’s leering. That idea is one that doesn’t sit well with me, though. I dismiss it just as fast.

“Like I said, Tay-lor,” Naomi says, over pronouncing her name, “I’ve worked with Ryker a long time, and trust me, if he wanted you to have his number, he would have given it to you last night when he saw you.” Naomi laughs, then reaches under the bar for a bowl full of post-it notes and little papers loopily scrawled with what looks like names, numbers, and messages. “See this, Taylor? These are all Ryker’s messages from ladies like yourself. So, as I said feel free to write your info on this Post-it and I will be sure to add it here.” Naomi shakes the bowl, and despite my better half, there is a little part of me that is enjoying Naomi’s cruelty, because in the end, it’s women like this who make me realize there is no way Ryker could settle for a girl like me.

“You can tell him Taylor stopped by, and you make sure to tell him I have a surprise for him.” She pauses, then points to the bowl. “And be sure to keep mine on top. I’m important.”

Naomi just smiles. “Again, hun, just write it down and put it in here. I am not Ryker’s secretary. I don’t give verbal messages and I always shake the bowl, equal rights and all that.”

With that, the girl huffs, then mutters, “Fucking bitch. Just tell him Taylor will be back.” She turns on her heels and thunders back out just as fast as she came in. Naomi doesn’t let it faze her.

Picking up the pen off the bar top, Naomi writes ‘Taylor’ on the yellow post-it note, and says, “One more ho for the bowl. God, you’d think between Luke and Ryker that they were the last two dicks on Earth, the way some of these bitches toss their snatches at them. Fuck, ladies, have some class, please!” Naomi laughs again, and drops the newest post-it into the bowl and gives it a solid shake. “You know what, though, Kat? Ryker is an ass sometimes and can be a total player, but I have to say, he isn’t as bad as Luke. I honestly think Ryker has potential. He just needs the right motivation. One day he’ll meet his match and be the man I’ve seen glimpses of.”

“Um, is this something that happens often? Casualties of the one-night stands coming in, demanding to see the guys? Do I need to do anything with that?” I ask, nodding at the bowl. Its existence makes my stomach coil.

“Hell, yes! It happens all the fucking time. That’s why we made the bowls. We got tired of dealing with their leftovers and
pick-me’s
. This way,” she points to the end of the bar, “during shifts we just set them here and direct enquiring minds to them. See, I made a sign to sit with each one then tapped them with duct tape so they’d be all secure and shit.”

The rest of the shift goes by without incident, and I see a few ladies dropping messages in both of the guys’ bowls, some go so far as putting a note in each. I can’t imagine being that desperate to get a guy’s attention that I’d reduce myself to putting my name in a bowl with a bunch of others.
I wonder if he’s really that good? Oh my God, no, Kat, he is not the type for you,
I scold myself and finish my shift without thoughts of Ryker and his hoochies.

***

Despite working opposite nights to Ryker, I still manage to get the lowdown on Mr. Honeybutter himself, without actually seeing him in person. This is, of course, thanks to my chatty little bestie who ended up on the same shift pattern as Ryker, and quickly formed a friendship with the man himself. Claire works the bar with him on Wednesday and Friday nights. I’m always hearing about his antics, as well as how sweet and fun he is; how well they get along. It seems she always has a new Ryker story to share after each shift she works with him.