“You! Whore!” he yells, eyes glaring daggers at her.
She moves so fast that I don’t even see it coming. The man falls to the ground, his hands cupping his groin as he writhes in agony. She kicked him in the balls! Genuine amusement rolls through me and explodes in unexpected laughter. If I hadn’t thought it already, her ability to stand up for herself would have confirmed it. This woman is perfect!
Chapter Four
Nikki
Looking down, I glare at the man who had the audacity to put his hands all over me and call me vile names. It fills me with wild satisfaction. I’ve never had the upper hand when it comes to men and watching him blubber on the ground at my feet thrills me in a way that would be worrisome in any other situation. When he called me those things, it wasn’t just his words I was hearing. It was every single know-it-all from my hometown who called me the same or made assumptions without ever taking the time to get to know me. My mama may have been a stripper and, as much as I hate to admit it, probably a whore, but that doesn’t mean that I am. I’m only in this stupid place to pay my rent!
I have to admit that seeing Grayson beside me, rage written on his handsome face, but still letting me decide how I was going to manage things, gave me a thrill I’ve never felt before. He was standing beside me, lending me support. I knew he wasn’t going to step in and take over like most guys would’ve. He let me take care of it on my own and I’m grateful. I may be country, but I’m not stupid and I know that if I’d hid and let him handle my shit, it would have all been over for me. Everyone would have pegged me for a pushover and who knows how many more times I would’ve gone through something like this.
Now that it’s over, the courage that piggybacked on my anger is melting away, leaving me with quivering knees and shaky hands. Turning back to Grayson I look up and up. For the first time taking in just how enormous the man is. He’s a freaking giant! I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so...well, big before. For an insane moment, I wonder what he would think if I leapt into his arms and held on for dear life. The idea is as appealing as it is foreign to me, but it would probably make him think I’m crazy. Trying to hide my delayed fear, as well as my inappropriate train of thought, I stumble over my words, “Menu. Found one for you. Don’t know where it went though.” I wave my hands around nervously, glancing up again at his towering body just inches from mine. He’s so warm the heat radiating off of him reaches the bare skin of my arms.
His massive hands settle on my shoulders, turning me toward the small booth he was sitting in. “Go sit down, Nikki.” he rumbles. His hand spans the entire width of my lower back for a brief second, gently pushing me forward. Not knowing what else to do, I follow his instructions and cross the short distance to sit down, clasping my trembling hands together in my lap.
He returns with a glass of golden-hued alcohol in his hand. Probably whiskey. All the good ole boys back home drink whiskey. Not that Grayson reminds me of the guys back home in any way, shape, or form. He’s in a league of his own, and in my admittedly limited experience, men as beautiful as him are rarely kind to women like me, not without an ulterior motive anyway. Ronny Davis is handsome and was awful kind, right up until I gave him my body and he left me standing in my driveway crying with his scornful words ringing in my ears. I’m not about to make another mistake like that one. Grayson slides into the booth across from me, his brow still marred by a scowl.
“Why’re you bein’ so nice to me?” I ask him, intending to sound tough but the question sounds timid, even to my own ears.
His brows draw deeper together, anger morphing to confusion. “What do you mean?”
I gesture to the glass he’s sliding toward me.
“Comin’ to my rescue. Bringin’ me a drink.” I know I’m being bitchy when he’s been nothing but kind and polite, but I can’t seem to help it. I’m attracted to him and that makes me as nervous as a cat around water. The last thing I need is to fall for a pretty face and land myself in deeper trouble than I’ve already found myself in. The damndest thing is that it’s my brain says beware, but intuition is telling me I can trust this man even though I just met him.
“You’re still shaking, doll,” he points out. “That’s why I brought the whiskey. Have a little sip.”
No one has ever called me by a pet name and I have to admit that I like it. I also like that he’s still being nice even though I’m being rude. It’s a bit of a surprise. Maybe he’s one of those good guys I’ve heard about but never ran across. I hope so because every part of me is demanding that I spend more time with this man and give him a chance. Presuming he wants to have that chance. I want to get to know him more than I want to push until he leaves me alone and doesn’t come back. That’s new for me. Normally I’d already be out the door and running from someone who made me think about more.
Needing to fill the silence between us I lift the glass to my lips and take a small sip. The liquor burns a fiery path down my throat spreading its warmth through my stomach and bringing a flush to my cheeks. “It’s good,” I murmur, sipping again, wondering absently why I’ve never tried it before.
He nods his agreement and opens his mouth, but before he can respond Star, wrapped in a shimmering silver satin robe, slides into the booth beside me, pulling me into a hug and interrupting whatever he was going to say. Her dark eyes are wide and contrite.
“Nikki! I saw what happened out there! I’m so sorry!” Her ebony eyes turn to Grayson and something unspoken flashes between them. “Thanks, Gray, for getting them off of her.”
“Nikki did the hard part.”
I’m not surprised that they know each other and something in me deflates a little. Starla’s the kind of woman I imagine a man like Grayson would be with. She’s glamorous, smart, and amazingly talented. In short, she’s the whole package. Nothing like me. I’ve never understood why she takes her clothes off for money when I know she could be doing so much more with her life. Sitting beside her with Gray across the table from me makes me feel... inadequate, I suppose. Her familiar shortening of his name shouldn’t bother me, but it does. Seriously, how can I even begin to compare to her?
Wrapping my hands around the fat glass I take another small taste of the alcohol and release a shuddering breath that feels like I’ve been holding it in for hours. That’s when I notice that even with Star beside me, her silk robe falling off of one naked, mocha-skinned shoulder and her face and body flawless, Grayson’s eyes haven’t once left me. A tremble races through me, centering in my core. Desire burns through me and I press my thighs together tightly, hoping to suppress the feeling. I want his eyes on me. I want all his attention. The feeling is as new as it is provocative.
Smiling shyly over the rim of the glass I meet his eyes, I can’t tell what color they are in the dim light over the booth, but my heart stutters when he smiles back. Slightly crooked canine teeth keep him from being too perfect and I can’t help but smile even wider at him. The anxiety of the last few minutes melting away.
Star clears her throat poorly disguising a chuckle. “Well… I’ll leave you two to it,” she says, sliding out of the booth to stand beside our table, her eyes bouncing between Grayson and me. When neither of us says anything, she turns to me with a thoughtful smile.