Any Time, Any Place (Billionaire Builders #2)(40)

“I like my women to be themselves. I like my women comfortable in their own skin, open to possibilities, and unafraid of who they are. I think too many bend themselves to what they think a man wants, and forget what they want.”

Her startled gaze told him he’d managed to surprise her. He concentrated on smoothing the rough wood, evening the grain, bringing out the beauty. Waited for her response.

“That’s quite insightful of you,” she commented. “Seems like the perfect thing to say to a woman you still want to sleep with.”

A smile touched his lips. “Maybe. But I’m not saying it to get you to like me. I’m saying it ’cause it’s the truth.”

“Do you like the truth, Dalton?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then why do you concentrate so much on what a woman wants, and not what you really want?”

His hand stilled. He looked up, and their eyes locked. The familiar tension buzzed from a low hum to a slight simmer. “What do you mean?”

She hesitated, as if unsure whether she should dive in. “Never mind.”

“Tell me.”

She tilted her chin up in pure challenge. “I hear a lot about how you like to embrace the future, and the power of women being themselves, and how you’re open to all of it. But you know what? Not once have you told me what you’re really looking for. What type of woman would you like in your life? What sacrifices are you willing to make for her? How open are you to risks? Because I think, deep inside, you may be a bit of a coward, and just like to wrap words around grand gestures and ideas that keep you safe and alone in your bed at night. But that’s just my opinion.”

Struck mute, he stared at her, unable to form any words. He figured by being up front about his limitations, he was being fair. Hell, at times he called himself enlightened—a man who cited truth as his excuse not to get entangled. He thought he was one of the decent ones out there.

But Raven called him out as a coward.

He opened his mouth to deny, and reject, and challenge every word she uttered. Her phone buzzed and she jumped up with a smile.

“This is NSync, isn’t it?”

He shook his head, confused. “Yeah.”

“Funny, I haven’t been able to get a particular song out of my head. Keeps playing over and over.”

“Raven, I think—”

“It’s called ‘Bye Bye Bye.’ So bye-bye, Dalton. See you tomorrow. Enjoy your new babysitter.”

With glee, she threw the door open. Al stood there with a grumpy expression on his face. “How long do I have to be here?” he grunted.

“Until Dalton is done. Thanks, Al, I appreciate it.”

He waved her off and trudged inside, shooting Dalton a nice glare. “Yeah, yeah, go to your workout. See ya later.”

She kissed his cheek and bounced out of the bar, leaving Dalton with the overly muscled tank of a chef, who looked mightily pissed off at him.

Ah, fuck.

The chef took in the stool at his feet and shook his head. Plucked a battered pack of American Spirits out of his pocket. Then glared at him again. “I’m gonna have a cigarette.”

Dalton sighed. “Fine.”

The chef paused. “I don’t like tattletales.”

Dalton raised his brow. “You mean, you don’t want Raven to know you smoke.”

“Right.”

“I got your back. But you know, smoking causes some nasty shit, Al. I’d advise you to think seriously about quitting.”

The chef shook his head in disgust and headed out the back door. “Just keep your mouth shut and we’ll get along fine.”

Dalton surrendered and got back to work. After a while, Al joined him inside the bar, and the sound of newspaper pages flipping echoed in the air along with the music, which he’d significantly lowered in volume. “The bar looks great,” Al said.

“Thanks.”

“I like the stools, too.”

“They’ll make a big difference. I’m gonna rip out these crappy booths and replace those, too. And wait till you see the game tables for poker night.”

“Yep. Raven’s happy.”

“She said that?”

A grunt.

“Did she talk about the bar? Or the stools? Or me?”

“Want me to pass her a note? She can check a box: ‘I like you’ or ‘I don’t like you.’?”

A flush crept up his cheeks. “Forget it.”

A hearty laugh, then a cough. “Just fucking with ya, man. I know you have the hots for her. Funny thing is, she seems to like you, too, but you piss her off. Not sure what that’s about.”

“Me either. Maybe you can put in a good word?”

Al snorted. “Nope. Don’t know you well enough, buddy.”

“Understood.”

Al read the paper and Dalton worked in silence. After a few minutes he asked, “You work for Raven long?”

“Almost two years now. You know she hired me out of prison?”

Dalton looked up. His respect for Raven hitched up a notch. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, she gave me a chance right away. Especially when she heard I’d attended the CIA.”

“In for something bad?”

“Losing my temper and trying to protect someone I once loved.”