Vodka On The Rocks (The Uncertain Saints Book 3) (12 page)

My eyes moved on their own accord when I saw a flash of yellow, and I started to get really excited.

“Hey,” I said, stopping Leslie’s thirtieth apology. “I forgive you, alright?”

At her startled nod, I stood up, and patted her hand.

“Thanks for trying to make it better,” I told her as I grabbed up my purse, sans phone.

“You…you’re welcome,” she replied.

I smiled at her. “Your daughter is really cute, by the way. I hope you have a good rest of your night.”

With that, I left, skirting the bride as I went.

If all went well, I’d be able to get out of here without anyone the wiser.

I squeaked slightly when I had to pass the man who I assumed was Casten’s father and ducked out the side door that I’d seen people using all night when they wanted to slip out for a smoke.

I hit a wall of the noxious fumes, but I kept pushing through.

I smiled when I went up to the taxi, stopping at his open window.

“You give rides?” I asked.

That was a stupid question, and the look on his face in reply to my question said he thought so, too.

“Uh, yeah. I do,” he looked at me like I was nuts.

He was cute, not at all what I expected for a taxi driver.

“Cool,” I said, dropping down into the car.

The driver’s green eyes looked up at me, and he smiled.

A shiver of warning slid down my back, but I tamped it down, knowing this was the easiest and fastest way to get home if I wanted to go.

He started to back out of his parking space, and I looked down at my hands.

“You look very pretty,” the man said.

My stomach clenched.

“Thank you,” I said without looking up at him.

“That dress suits your skin tone,” he continued.

I looked out the window without replying, watching the grape trees pass.

“How old are you?” he asked. “Do you like opera?”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”

“Would you like to go to one sometime? I like opera,” he smiled.

I looked up then, seeing his eyes on me instead of the road, and got a sinking feeling.

“Uhh,” I hesitated. “I think I forgot my phone, could you take me back?”

He shook his head. “I can’t. There’s nowhere to turn around,” he said as he passed a driveway, then sped up.

My heart rate started to accelerate, and I held onto the leather of the seat beneath me as I said nervously, “My man is back there; he’ll get upset if he realizes I don’t have my phone.”

“You don’t have a man,” he spoke quickly.

I started to hyperventilate.

Closing my eyes, I realized that I’d made a huge mistake.

But then, the most glorious sound in the world, a set of loud pipes on a motorcycle, sounded in my ears.

I blinked my eyes open and turned to see Casten riding toward us, the red tails of his shirt flapping in the wind behind him in his exuberance to get to me.

“Shit,” the man in the front seat said as he pulled over.

Into a driveway.

“Get out,” the man ordered.

I did.

Gladly.

I poured out of the car so fast that I nearly fell to my knees.

Casten was there to help me, though, and he pulled me roughly to my feet again before sending the man a glare.

“How much does she owe you?” he rumbled.

My heart hadn’t slowed its pace, and I looked at the man over Casten’s shoulder.

His light brown hair was still perfectly in place, but his eyes looked completely different than they had only moments before when I’d gotten in the taxi.

“Free. We didn’t go far,” he lied.

“No, I insist.”

The man shook his head and stomped down on the gas, leaving us in a shower of dust.

Casten pinched the bridge of his nose.

“This isn’t working,” he grumbled.

My stomach still hadn’t recovered from what he’d had to say before, so it sank right back to my knees.

It was hard to hear someone didn’t like you.

Someone that
you
liked.

“What makes you think that the man you got in that car with was an actual taxi?” he asked.

I thought back to the man that I’d gotten into the car with and shrugged.

“He was in a yellow taxi…” I replied slowly, like I was explaining it to someone who wasn’t quite grasping the correct context.

“Yeah, but did he have an ID hanging up anywhere? Was he wearing the uniform?” he challenged. “Because there are no taxis in Pittsburg. In fact, I’m fairly sure the man you got into the car with wasn’t a taxi driver at all. Not to mention there was no fare button that indicated how much you owed him.”

“Well then, who was he?”

You don’t always need a plan. Sometimes you just need balls.

-T-shirt

Casten

“Well then, who was he?” she asked nervously.

“Good question,” I replied, helping her back to my bike.

She limped, but I didn’t help her.

I was too keyed up.

She’d gotten into a car with a fuckin’ stranger and I was pissed.

Seriously pissed.

And I didn’t want to say or do anything else that I might regret later.

I tossed my leg over the bike and offered my hand to Tasha.

She took it and mounted the bike directly behind me, not even bothering to go for modesty as she’d done earlier.

I got the same flash of black panties that I’d seen earlier and need slammed into me once again, as it’d done no less than ten times throughout the evening.

My brother pulled up in his truck and I nodded at him.

Tasha blushed and buried her face into my back, causing Corbyn to grin unrepentantly.

“You wanna go out for some dinner?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, let’s go to the Japanese grill just down the road.”

Corbyn nodded and gestured me on, and I nodded at him in thanks.

He probably wouldn’t have extended the same courtesy had I not had Tasha on the back of my bike.

Tasha stiffened when I started to accelerate faster than I’d ever done before and reluctantly wrapped her arms around me.

I knew she was still pissed.

Hell, I don’t know what I would’ve done if the reverse had happened to me but violence would’ve definitely been involved, I was sure.

I’d kind of fucked up our evening by not introducing her beforehand.

I should’ve.

Corbyn had refused to stand up because he hated how my mom went from man to man without a care in the world.

The entire thing was, in fact, a huge joke.

Not to my mother, of course, but to her children.

We were all fathered by different men, except for me and Corbyn.

Not that I didn’t like all of her other husbands. They were all basically great guys.

But I didn’t like how she got tired or bored and then kicked them to the curb without a backwards glance.

I slowed down to stop at the traffic light that headed to the main highway that ran through Gilmer and reached back to rest my hand on Tasha’s exposed thigh.

I felt her shiver at my back, and I had to bite down on a curse.

I wanted her.

I’d never wanted a woman so bad in my life.

Tasha’s phone vibrated in my shirt pocket, and I reached in to glance at it quickly to make sure it wasn’t anything important.

My teeth gritted as I saw the unknown number’s text message.

Unknown (10:03 PM):
It was nice to see you again
.

Fire burned through my veins as I realized just what had happened.

She’d been in the car with her fucking admirer. She had to have been.

I shoved the phone back into my pocket and rode hard to the Japanese restaurant.

Once there, I waited on the sidewalk until Corbyn pulled his truck in next to my bike.

“Will you take her inside with you? I have a phone call to make,” I questioned Corbyn.

He nodded and held out his arm for Leslie.

She looped her arm around his and offered his other one to Tasha.

Tasha looked back at me with reluctance, and at my nod, she moved to his arm, placing a soft hand on his forearm.

I waited until they were out of sight before I called Mig.

“Yeah?” Mig answered shortly.

I could hear Vitaly bellowing with rage in the background, so I made it short and sweet.

“I need you to pull the feed from the winery. I think we got our boy.”

The conversation was short, but Mig said he would do it within ten minutes and signed off, allowing me to go into the restaurant to find my woman.

Yes, that’s right. My woman.

If she was reacting at the thought of me fucking another woman, then her heart was in it as deep as mine was, which was what I was waiting for.

A sign that she was in it with me.

My hand raised on its own accord, running along the split in my lip.

And I smiled.

She had a mean right hook.

Idly, I wondered who taught her how to hit.

But when I got to the table, she didn’t look happy to be there at all.

Corbyn was laughing about something. Leslie was flushing red. And I knew instantly that my brother was being his usual annoying self.

“Corbyn,” I growled. “Don’t be a fucking douche.”

Tasha looked up at me with a grateful expression, and Leslie snorted delicately under her breath.

I took my seat between Leslie and Tasha, scooting so close to Tasha that she would’ve scooted the opposite way had someone not been directly beside her.

This particular Japanese restaurant was a hibachi style, so we were seated around the big flat top grill, and there were other people at our table. The chef worked at the grill in front of us, putting on a show as he prepared the food for the table.

I wasn’t a fan of the theatrics that most of these chefs took, more wanting my food than the fucking volcano that the chef would make with the onions, but it seemed to be popular with the women and children.

“I was just telling your woman about that time your high school girlfriend walked in on me fucking…” Corbyn started, but I held my hand up to stop him.

“Stop. Please. You’ve already helped enough today,” I growled.

“What do you do, Tasha?” Leslie asked, changing the subject.

Tasha leaned forward so she could see Leslie, and said, “I’m a coach at the high school in Jefferson.”

Leslie’s eyes lit. “Really? What do you coach?”

Tasha smiled. “Volleyball and track. Jefferson’s a small school, so there’s not much else to coach; although, I’d kill to coach softball.”

“Leslie was the reigning home run champ in high school,” Corbyn said around a sip of his beer. “But then I got deployed to Germany, and she chose to follow me instead of going to college.”

Tasha blinked. “Really? How did you like Germany? What branch are you in?”

Corbyn made an ugly sound. “Marines. As if there’s any other one that’s worthwhile.”

I punched Corbyn in the arm. “What was that, boy?”

Corbyn grinned. “Old Casten here is a frog. He’d still be there, too, had he not been a wiener and bowed out because of an injury.”

Leslie sighed. “This is an old argument, boys. Let’s save it for some time when Tasha hasn’t already been traumatized enough.”

I wrapped my arm around Tasha’s shoulders and pulled her into me.

“So…you never did tell me what you saw,” I observed.

Tasha’s face flamed, and she took a hasty sip of water.

“Just a little bit of Corbyn’s ass,” she lied. “It was the voice, though.”

Leslie nodded. “It’s uncanny, isn’t it? It’s like there’s two of them. I’ve always been a little bit overwhelmed. And they try to trick me… often. It’s annoying as hell.”

I grinned. “Well, I’ve never gone as far as you and Corbyn have today. That was a little much for our first date.”

“Would you like something to drink?” the server interrupted.

I looked up into the eyes of a woman who was most definitely giving me her best ‘come hither’ look, but I ignored it.

“Yeah, I want a vodka on the rocks, and a glass of water,” I ordered.

The woman smiled shyly. “Yes, Sir.”

I turned to see Tasha’s scowl as she watched the woman walk away. “Gross.”

“What?” I feigned ignorance.

“She passed you her number…with your arm around me,” she gestured, pointing to the white napkin on the table next to me.

I scowled and turned it over; sure enough, she had.

What a bitch.

Why did women think that was okay? If they’re going to be that blatantly obvious about it, what makes them think a man would want that? If you did it for one man, it’s not a stretch to imagine that you’d do it to another.

“I can’t believe you let your girlfriend deal with that shit,” Corbyn jeered. “You could’ve told that girl to fuck off, at least. That’s what Leslie told me I have to do when a woman comes on to me.”

Leslie sighed. “Maybe Casten’s girlfriend doesn’t want to deal with shit like that, so he kept his mouth shut because he knew she didn’t want it blown out of proportion like it tends to do when that happens.”

“I have to use the restroom,” Tasha stood up.

She didn’t wait for us to acknowledge her announcement, instead walked away as fast as her high heeled feet could take her.

I turned my glare on my brother.

“Watch your fuckin’ mouth for once. And order us both the number twenty-three,” I snapped, pointing at him. “And make sure you don’t touch the California Roll I ordered.”

Corbyn saluted me, and I wanted to punch him in the face.

Instead, I followed Tasha, smelling her perfume the entire way.
      

This was not how I’d expected this night to go.

Weddings usually played out a lot differently than this one had.

Then again Tasha was anything but predictable.

I stepped to the side and waited a few minutes for Tasha to come out, but when she didn’t, I went in to find her.

She was standing at the sink.

“What is with you Red boys and bathrooms?” she asked when she saw me push through the door.

“It’s easy,” I said as explanation, walking forward to stand behind her.

“What’s easy?” she countered.

My hips met her ass, and her eyes flared wide at the feel of my erection digging into her back.