Grace for Drowning(14)

"Charlie?" She seemed surprised.

I nodded. "He saved me. Alcoholics need support, someone to talk to."

She blinked sharply. "I'm not an alcoholic."

I let out a short laugh. Like I said: textbook. "You think regular people take hip flasks to work?"

It was the wrong thing to say. Her lips twisted into a sneer. "Fuck you. Who are you to judge me?"

"I'm not judging—" I began, but it was too late. I'd lost her.

"That's exactly what you're doing." Shoving me backward, she slipped out under my arm and headed for the bar. "Do me a favor," she said, pausing at the door. "Keep your nose out of my business."

Then, she was gone.

I exhaled slowly and let the wall behind me take my weight. Great fuckin' job, Logan.

That hadn't gone how I'd hoped, but then again, was I really surprised? I hadn't exactly been receptive when people tried to pry into my shit. Why should she be any different?

Maybe the whole idea was just straight up ridiculous. Even if I did get her to listen, what good would it really do? Yeah, I'd gone through something similar, but I handled it my own way. I had no idea if that would work for anyone else. But try as I might, I couldn't convince myself to throw in the towel just yet. She needed someone.

I breathed in deeply and caught the faintest trace of her scent on the wind, and tried to convince myself that was the only reason.





Chapter Five





Logan





The next night, Grace was working the closing shift. Joy had decided she was ready to handle the cleanup alone, and this was her trial run. Once two o'clock rolled around and the bar was officially shut for the night, I usually took off, but tonight I had other plans.

The middle of the night is the only time I really like the city. By day it's too much to bear; a roiling, cacophonous circus that makes it almost impossible for me to function. The closer I get to the Strip, the more under assault I feel. If it weren't for Charlie and the cage, and the fact that I liked the desert so much, I'd probably have moved to the middle of nowhere a long time ago. Instead, I just spend my days holed up in the gym, doing my best to lock all those threats outside.

When the last red-faced customer staggered out of Charlie's and off into the electric Vegas darkness, I moved inside. Grace was alone behind the bar, mechanically wiping down the benches and staring off into space. She didn't notice me until I was just a few feet away.

"Jesus," she said with a start, "what is it with you and sneaking up on people?"

"That would be my ninja training," I deadpanned. "Sorry. Old habits die hard."

That actually generated a ghost of a smile, but then she caught herself and her expression quickly darkened. We hadn't spoken since our confrontation in the alley. In retrospect, it was clear I'd made a mistake charging in head first. She was strong-willed and stubborn, just like me. Getting through to her was going to take some work.

"What are you doing here?" she asked eventually.

"I work here."

She exhaled sharply. "I mean, what are you doing here now?" She nodded toward the empty room. "In case you hadn't noticed, the crowd isn't exactly rowdy this time of night."

I shrugged. "You can't be too careful. There might be more ninjas around."

This time, nothing. Oh well, one out of two ain't bad. "I'll take my chances," she said.

"Well, perhaps I have ulterior motives."

She rolled her eyes. "You don't say."

"The truth is, I've been thinking about branching out, career wise. You know, grow my experience and all that good stuff, so I thought I could help you with the cleaning."

She did a double take. "Cleaning?"

I nodded.

She folded her arms across her chest. She was clearly pissed but, truth be told, that only made her look hotter. There's something about tiny women with huge tempers that just pushes my buttons. The fact that her current stance was squeezing her tits together also helped. Yeah, I know, I'm a pervert, but you try being an athlete on a bout of self-imposed abstinence and see how long your thoughts remain pure. I swear to God, some days I felt like my blood was pure testosterone.

"I've got it under control," she said, in a tone that could have frozen water.

I shrugged. "Well, I think I'm going to stay, all the same. I'll get these tables over here." I leaned across the bar to scoop up a spare washcloth, unable to ignore the way her body tensed when I drew near. Fuck, what kind of bastard fantasizes about a girl who is obviously going through some major shit? Even if I wasn't on sabbatical from all things feminine, that was going to be the last thing on Grace's mind.

Obviously my presence wasn't welcome, but what was she going to do? Run to Charlie? An employee offering to do extra unpaid work was hardly grounds for a complaint. She had no choice but to tolerate me, and she knew it.