Waking Hearts (20 page)

Ollie looked down at Allie’s hand in his and thought what a monumental idiot Joe Russell had been. To have this woman and risk her respect because of cards disgusted him.

“I’ll ask Cam,” Alex said. “With stakes like that, he’d know who hosted it or know who to ask.”

“And what will he want in exchange for the information?”

“Nothing. We’re friends.”

“Wrong,” Ollie said. “You may be friends, but he’ll want something. If nothing else, it’s a mark that’s gonna sit in his ledger. But don’t ever think he’ll forget.”

Alex was still pissed. “He’s trying to go straight. Make his whole family legitimate. You think that happens overnight? Happens without effort?”

“Don’t know,” Ollie said. “And I don’t care. That’s not my problem. This town is my problem. Feel free to worry about Cameron Di Stefano and his ethical dilemmas, Alex. But don’t expect me to care. If he’s a threat to this town, you know what my clan will do. And the Elder Council won’t say a word.”

ALLIE sat silent in the truck while he drove her back to the Cave where her van was parked. That car was on its last legs. He needed to take a look at it and make sure it wasn’t going to fall apart while she was driving the kids, but he’d probably have to argue with her about paying him.

“Hey,” he said. “You still working tonight?”

She frowned. “Of course. It’s Friday. Best tips.”

“You’ve had a hell of a week. If you don’t want to put up with all the crowds, I can call someone else in.”

She shook her head. “I need to work.”

“This isn’t about money, is it?”

“I’ve got bills to pay, Ollie. That doesn’t change because I’m staying with you. And you need to let me chip in for groceries. I heard you tell Vicky this morning to buy enough food for an army.”

“You’re not paying for groceries,” he growled.

“Then we’re going to my dad’s.”

He glared. “The hell you are.”

Ollie had plenty of money, and he liked spending it on her and the kids. Why did she have to argue with him?

“If you don’t let me pay my way, we are.” She glared at him right back. “My family is not some kind of charity case. I refuse to—”

“What was that envelope Alex gave you, huh?”

Bright red streaked her cheeks. “He heard about the kids’ rooms,” she whispered. “Gave me some money to replace their stuff. He wouldn’t let me say no. It wasn’t from him, it was clan money.”

“So the wolves can help you out, but I can’t?”

“They’re family. You’re my friend. It’s different. You already gave me a job.”

Her
friend
. For the first time, the label grated. He was tired of being her damn friend. If he had a greater claim on her, she wouldn’t be able to argue.

Okay, she’d argue, but he’d have better leverage.

“I know you don’t like it,” she continued over his silence, “but it’s different. When my mom was alive, she contributed to the clan. Not a lot, but some. But if you give me money—”

“You might have to relax about it and maybe say thank you,” he said. “That would be
horrible
.”

Her eyes were bright with tears, but he knew they were the angry variety. He shut up. She cried when she got angry, and he knew she hated it. He didn’t want to provoke her.

“I see we’re back to Ollie being an asshole,” she said. “Good to know.”

She leaned back, crossed her arms, and they didn’t say another word the entire way home.

THE silence continued at the bar. The Cave was hopping with a popular cover band from Coachella, and most of the tables were happy and shouting. A few couples were dancing, and the drinks were flowing. Even the Quinns were behaving, other than a group of the younger cousins trying to charm a few girls passing through on their way to the river.

It wasn’t Ollie’s job to prevent poor judgment.

It was the kind of night he normally loved. Mostly locals with a few visitors mixed in. Heads thrown back and a few playful howls the full humans laughed off. But Ollie couldn’t shake his foul mood.

“You have been glaring daggers at her all night,” Tracey said when she sidled up to him behind the bar. “What happened? I thought you two—”

“Leave it.”

Tracey’s eyebrows flew up her forehead. It was a warning shot that made every Campbell or Allen man wary. “Oh, I don’t think so, Oliver Campbell. Don’t make me have my man beat your ass for being rude to me. I am not your cute little fox, too polite to argue with you.”

“She argues with me plenty.”

“So that’s what’s up your butt?” Tracey rolled her eyes. “Get over it. She knows her own mind, and there is nothing wrong with that. If you’re lucky, you’ll spend the next fifty years arguing with that woman. Better get used to it now.”

“It’s so strange,” he said. “It’s almost like I pay you to stand around and interfere in my personal life.”

She laughed. “Cranky old man.”

“Younger than you.”

“Doesn’t make you any less of a cranky old man.” She leaned toward him and smiled. “I know how to work the cranky out of my old man. Bet she does too.”

He put a hand on Tracey’s shoulder and turned her one hundred eighty degrees, pointing her back to the loaded tray she needed to carry out to table two. She laughed at him and took off, but he worried she’d do something to interfere.

Was he worried she’d interfere or hopeful?

He had silently filled four more orders for the frustrating fox by the time he noticed her red cheeks and bright eyes.

“What?” he asked.

She looked up, her blush only growing brighter. “What what?”

He scowled and she took off with her tray, only to deliver it to a booth with four guys, two of whom were smiling and laughing as she approached. For a second, he was about to go out to the floor, then he saw Tracey approach.

He settled. Tracey was a pro and she was able to defuse most situations with a laugh or a sharp word.

But…

She wasn’t diverting the men’s attention. She put one arm around Allie’s waist and leaned in, teasing her about something before Tracey pinched the cheek of the youngest-looking guy.

What the…?

When one of the guys offered Allie a card, his cousin’s wife took it and put it Allie’s apron before she walked off laughing. Then she turned back to the bar and raised a single, challenging eyebrow.

Ollie scowled. Tracey could try to interfere, but he knew Allie wasn’t the kind of waitress who picked up customers.

His eyes went back to her. She was still at the table, but now the other three men were watching the band and drinking while the one who’d given Allie his card chatted with her. And the look on her face…

She was smiling. Her eyes were relaxed, and he could see the usual tension she always carried in her shoulders was gone. Her cheeks still carried a faint blush, but she was talking with the guy, who didn’t appear to be an asshole. He was looking at her eyes, not her breasts.

Shit.

You think you’re going to be able to handle seeing her go out with another guy under your nose?

What if she did? What if this asshole came and picked her up
at his house
for a date?

She finally left the table and moved through her section, picking up empties and taking orders while she chatted with customers. The bright, sweet look on her face never left, and Ollie knew she was having fun. Allie was one of the rare people who actually liked helping customers. It was tiring, sure, but she thrived on the energy too.

“Ollie.” She was at the bar. “I need four DBAs, a glass of merlot, two Pinot Grigios. And two Jack and Cokes when you get a chance.”

He started pulling pints while she unloaded her empties. He was making the mixed drinks when she came behind the bar.

“I’ll get the wine.”

“Having fun?”

Her smile lit up her face. “I am. Feels good to be busy, and the band’s good, right? I remember them from last time. Fun night.”

“Yeah.”

She finished pouring the red and opened the white.

“I don’t pay you to flirt with customers, Allie.”

She splashed the white wine over her hand. Then she set the bottle down on the bar and put her hands on her hips.

“You—”

“Hey!” Tracey said, leaning over the bar and grabbing Allie’s tray. “I’ll get this. Allie, take a break. I think the guy at five just went out for a smoke.”

Allie’s eyes met his in challenge, and before she could walk away, Ollie grabbed her arm.

“I don’t think so.”

He marched her back to his office and slammed the door as Allie shook off his hand.

“What. The. Hell?” She was furious. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“If you go out with that guy, I’ll break his arms.”

“You asshole!” she yelled. “He was being nice!”

“He was not just being nice, Allie. Are you that naive?”

She sneered. “Do I look like a little girl? I’m not stupid, Ollie, even though you think I’m still some kind of innocent teenager.”

Ollie crossed his arms. “Yeah, no. That’s not it.”

“He was being nice to me. He’s sweet. He’s a real estate agent from Indio who likes music. And yeah! He
was
flirting with me. It felt nice!”

Nice? Fuck nice. He wasn’t ever going to be
nice
.

“And you know what?” She continued to rail at him. “There’s nothing wrong with my feeling nice. Nothing wrong with my feeling like a woman instead of a worn-out wreck all the time. You and Sean joke and tease me, but at the end of the day, you still see me as Poor Little Allie with all her kids and her prob— What are you doing?”

Ollie was done. He stalked over to her until she was backed against the door. Then he leaned down, put his hands on that perfect ass, and lifted her until they were face-to-face.

“This”—he pressed her against the back of the door and wrapped her legs around his waist—“is me setting you straight, Allison Smith.”

He kissed her.

It started out simple. He didn’t want to lose control. He needed to be careful—

Then her mouth parted in shock, she let out a little gasp, and he felt her breath on his lips.

Her head hit the door when his mouth took hers. He reached one hand up and cradled her head, angling her mouth so he could take her deeper. She tasted like sweet tea. She smelled like heaven.

Ollie lost it.

 
His hips pressed forward to pin her to the wall, the hand on her ass squeezed and held, her body a delicious handful he wanted to eat up. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her mouth opened to his, her tongue driving deep in his mouth on a moan. One hand gripped a handful of the hair at his nape, raising every hair on his body as he tried to ignore the scent of her arousal as it grew lush between them.

It was everything.

He’d spent years imagining what it would be to kiss her. Hold her in his arms. But the violence of his possession shocked him into drawing back.

“No,” she breathed out, pulling his mouth back to hers.

He groaned and leaned in. The hand that had cradled her head caressed her cheek, and she let his mouth go, moving to kiss his palm, her head tilting to the side and exposing her neck. Ollie bent down and put his mouth at the soft skin there, flicking his tongue against the pounding pulse. Allie drew his thumb into her mouth and sucked hard, then slid her teeth across the callused flesh. Ollie pulled her head to the side to expose more of her neck.

She tilted her head back and let out a gasp when he bit down on her collarbone, the soft wing of it something he’d wanted to bite for years.

“Ollie—”

“No.” He took her mouth again. He didn’t want to stop. Didn’t want her to start talking again. Didn’t even want her thinking. He wanted only this. The liquid heat between them and the promise of satisfaction so near he could taste it in the give of her flesh and her welcoming lips.

He bit down on her lower lip, then sucked it into his mouth when she gasped. He shifted her closer, letting her feel the solid arousal that pulsed between them. Hard against soft. He squeezed and angled her hips like he would when he took her.

The tiny, begging moans from her throat were enough to make him forget everything.

He wanted her. Only her.

She pulled away from his mouth, gasping. “Ollie!”

“I do not”—he scraped his teeth along her jawline—“want you flirting…”

“What?” Her head fell back and hit against the door.

“…with anyone but me.”

Ollie captured her earlobe, determined to taste everything. Sample every bit of her he’d dreamed about. He wanted to know the flavor of her belly and the taste of her breasts. He’d savor the smooth skin at her ankle and feast on the spice of the flesh between her thighs. He would know every inch of her. Because she would be his.

“No one but me,” he said, pressing his hips closer and squeezing his hand on her backside. “And I will never be nice.”

“Nice?” Her head fell back and her eyelashes fluttered. “What…?”