Page 30 of Mace
“No.”
She tilts her head to the side, her eyes focusing on me as if she can pull all the thoughts out my head. “Which means mind your business. Got it. I didn’t mean to intrude. I don’t like my name either. I’m not sure why my parents picked it.”
“I like it,” I say, and again, that pink spreads along her chest.
“Oh… well, you might be the first. This is Bella. She and I are both working on the bar and floor tonight. Well, most nights. There are a couple other girls who are scheduled between us, but we usually work opposite shifts.” I intend to make sure I know exactly which shifts Maylie’s working before I go home tonight. “Bell, this is Mace.”
Bella gives me a slight lift of her lips, her eyes remaining glacial. She sees what I really am, and she’s afraid.
She’s smart to be.
The lights suddenly fall, creating shadows at the corners of the room. The stage illuminates and music thumps through the speakers near to the front, drowning out everything but the constant bass.
Maylie gives me an apologetic smile and gets to work.
For the next hour, the bar transforms. Tables and booths fill with men of all ages—a few women too—and the booze flows. Maylie and Bella work like whirlwinds, pouring drinks with practiced ease and then grabbing their trays to disappear into the shadows of the main floor. I’m starting to think I underestimated this place. It’s a lot busier than I expected it to be.
Every time she heads out, my gut knots, and I find myself watching Maylie closely as she moves through the crowd. She has an easy demeanour, a friendliness about her that lights up whenever she’s dealing with customers. That sunshine seems to radiate out of her, and I wonder how long it will be before she ends up like the rest of us, jaded and shattered.
I track her as she comes back towards the bar, sliding her tray onto the counter before she reaches for a cloth to clean it. The way she leans presses the globes of her arse against the material of the tiny hot pants she’s wearing, and all the blood rushes to my cock.
Shit, Mace. Get it together.
The smile she flashes me doesn’t help either, and I’malmost grateful she moves to the coffee machine, giving me her back… at least until she sways her hips to the music while she waits for it to brew.
She ain’t trying to be enticing, and she’s got no fuckin’ rhythm, but my gaze drifts to watch as her body moves. I have zero fucking idea why I’m into this, but fuck, I want to be behind her, holding her hips as she grinds her pert arse against me.
I’m so busy studying her that I jolt when she slides a mug onto the counter in front of me. I glance down at it, the smell of the coffee infusing my nose.
“Call it a peace offering.”
“For what?”
“We got off on the wrong foot. And I do believe you about Sam.”
I study her for a moment, trying to size up if all this shit is an act, but I don’t think it is. “You always fight other people’s battles?” I’m curious to find out everything I can about this girl… the good, the bad, and the ugly.
“I try not to, but I guess so. I know the guy’s not a saint, but he helped me when I was in a tricky spot.”
She feels like she owes him that loyalty. I can understand that.
“And coffee is how we get on the right foot?” I ask.
“No, coffee is how I take care of you.”
I lift my gaze to hers. No one has ever fucking tried to take care of me before, except Maggie and Nicky.
My throat feels tight as regret flashes in her eyes when I say nothing, too choked up to speak.
“I should’ve asked if you wanted one. Sorry. It was stupid to just assume. I mean, you might not even like coffee. I know some people don’t, though I’m going to behonest, I don’t really trust people who aren’t getting through the day caffeinated to the?—”
She reaches to take the mug away, and I wrap my fingers around her wrist. Her breath hisses between her teeth as I run my thumb over her pulse point, feeling the erratic throb beneath. I’m not sure if it’s her heart or mine racing.
“Thanks,” I rasp, which makes her shoulders relax a little.
“I didn’t know how you take it, so if you need milk and sugar, I can get you some.”
“Just sugar,” I tell her, but I’d drink it black if necessary. I ain’t fussy when it comes to this shit.