I Bet You(31)

“You’re nosy.”

He shrugs. “I did help you get his interest. I want to know how my investment is going.”

“I’m still thinking.”

His lips compress, but his expression doesn’t change. “I see.”

There’s a lot of meaning in those words, but before I can explore the complexities, the hostess waves at me, indicating a table of five she just sat in my section. I sigh. “Dang it. I have customers.” I bite my lip. “I’m looking forward to my spaghetti soon. Just let me know when you’re ready. I did pretty much invite myself over.” Perhaps I shouldn’t have.

He scrubs at his face and gives me a tired look. “Okay, I need to go. Good night, Red. See you later.”

And he’s gone, heading for the exit with long strides.





Penelope



My car has a flat.

“Damn you,” I mutter up at the gods who’ve seen fit to not only punish me with a shift where my dad came in, but now have left me stuck in a parking lot with a busted streetlight. Plus, Sugar’s is already locked down and dark, the manager long gone.

I’m screwed.

I sigh and lean against the car, pulling out my phone and staring at it. Possibilities fly at me. Charisma mentioned how tired she was…and she did take care of Vampire Bill tonight. There’s always my dad. I mean, that’s what a normal father-daughter relationship would be like, right? I consider Connor, but I just turned him down for dinner. There’s Ryker, but…

No. I can do this. I pop the trunk and lug out the small spare.

“You all right?” comes a slow drawl from behind me.

My heart drops at the voice. I mutter a curse as I flip around and squint into the darkness. Using my phone, I turn on the flashlight mode and shine it into the person’s face. “Who’s there?”

It’s a man. He puts a hand up to shield himself from the brightness, squinting at the glare. “Whoa there. No need to put a spotlight on me. It’s Archer.”

“Oh, hey.” I lower the light, keeping it on his chest, not quite at ease with him. My heart is still pounding as I run my eyes over him, taking in the vivid tattoos up his arms, most of them skulls and roses intertwined.

Doesn’t make him a bad person, I remind myself. I adore tattoos but have never had the balls to get one.

“You’ve got a flat. You need some help?”

“Uh, no. I’ve got it. Thank you.” I’m tense as I survey the parking lot, wondering where his car is. My eyes lands on a lone Range Rover, parked several spots away. I nod my head at it, playing it cool when inside I’m shaking. “That yours?”

He nods and sticks his hands in his pockets as he comes closer. “C’est tout, that’s it. Parked it and went to a bar with friends after Sugar’s.”

His accent is thicker tonight, and I know why when the scent of whiskey wafts from him to me.

My danger radar climbs to high alert.

I take a step backward, and he holds his hands up in a placating manner, probably reading my face. “Cher, now, now, I’m just a good ol’ boy. Don’t fret.”

Fear trickles through me, and I suck in air, feeling lightheaded. I don’t like being alone with a drunk guy in a dark parking lot.

He sends me an oily grin and takes a step closer.

I hold my hands up, my voice high and thin. “Don’t come any closer, please.”

He gives me a haughty glare. “You think I’m going to eat you up like a cocodril?”

I lick my lips. He means crocodile or alligator—I think.

The imagery in my head encourages the hair on my arms to rise. I’m picturing him knocking me over the head, stuffing me in the back of his vehicle, taking me out to the swamp, and murdering me. I still have my phone in my hand, and I clench it tight, cursing myself for not calling someone right away. My hand that isn’t holding the phone shifts my keys and pushes them between my fingers in case I have to use them as a weapon. I lick my lips. “I already called someone.”

“You did?” He takes another step closer.

“Ryker’s coming to help me.” I don’t know why I say his name, but the change in Archer’s face is instantaneous.

His expression hardens. “I thought you was with Connor.”

“I can call who I want,” I snap.

He takes another step until we’re close enough that I can count the eyelashes around his eyes. His breath is sharp and pungent as he peers down at me. “You’re a pretty thing. I like how you talk back,” he says, his gaze on my mouth.

Terror jumps inside me, adrenaline fueling me as I shove at his chest. He stumbles back but hardly loses his balance. “I said stay back.”

He looks pissed at first but then switches gears and laughs. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he glances down the empty street. “You sure you called him? If you was mine, I’d be here by now.”

Look him straight in the eye. I nod. “He’s probably worried right now that I haven’t called him back because he told me to call him once I checked my trunk for a spare, and I already did that.” I hold up my phone and wave it at him to show him I have it out and could have called him. “He worries about me and we’re friends—good friends.”

Archer’s lips curl up, a smile without teeth, yet I feel the sharpness of it. His head lowers, his eyes at half-mast. “Ah, he’s not your friend and you shouldn’t trust him. You know why?”