You're to Blame(21)

“I get it.” I laugh, shaking my head. “You think I’m being ridiculous, and what just happened was nothing.”

“Again, Charlotte, you didn’t break any law, and it’s none of my business.” Duke cracks his knuckles and finishes cleaning up the mess.

“I better go.” I snatch my purse off the island. “Can we pretend like this never happened?”

Duke waves over his shoulder, dismissing me. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

What the actual hell just happened? I need a shower, and it isn’t because I missed mine this morning.





Chapter Six





Duke


Well, shit.

This is going to be a problem.

I hide in the back until I’m certain the coast is clear.

What in the actual fuck was that all about with Charlotte?

I’m not blind. The way her eyelashes fluttered against the apples of her cheeks, the way she looked at me said one thing and one thing only. Touch me. And oh, did I want to. She didn’t shy away, even though every ounce of her conscious had screamed for her to back off. A thrill shot through me when she squirmed as I licked the dribble of mustard off my finger.

That same thrill is shot into the sky when I remember whose girl Charlotte is.

I forge through the swinging door, to a newly empty bar.

“What was that all about?” Derks’ eyebrow perks up. He messes with the switches and tangled cords on the karaoke machine.

“Did you know she’s not only interviewing you, but also Ari?” I open the register, count the change inside, and match the amounts to our ledger.

“We’ll come back to that.” Derks leans on the bar top. “I meant the awkward sexual tension in the room.”

“Can we skip this conversation?” I slam the drawer at his blunt observation. “We have more important things to discuss.”

“What do you think?” His amused laughter echoes through the bar. He’s a son of a bitch sometimes.

“Yes, something weird happened between us, but unlike you, she and I know when to stop.”

“Fair enough. Now, what did you tell her?”

What the fuck was I supposed to tell her? Not a damn thing.

“Nothing. I don’t know nothing, remember?” Derks cups the back of my neck and gives me a shake before stepping away. “She can’t be involved in whatever the hell is going on,” I yell, and his head whips around at my demand.

“Then keep her away.” Derks acts as if it’s not his problem, leaving me to ponder what the hell he expects me to do to keep her away.

“She’s interviewing him, Derks. How am I supposed to keep her away?” I’ll take any advice I can get.

“Maybe you’re looking at the situation all wrong. Maybe you need to keep him away from her. If I know Ari as well as I think I do, I’d say he’s well aware she’s Jacob’s girl.” Derks plugs the machine in and it buzzes to life. “There we go. Thursday night karaoke nights start this week.”

“Yeah, great,” I deadpan, taking Derks’ advice into consideration.

My mind runs through every possible scenario. To place this option on the table isn’t wise, and I sure as hell know nothing good has ever come from the warehouse. I may not be able to keep Charlotte away from Ari, but there is one thing I can do. Play nice and keep everyone’s shit but my own out of hot water.

“Derks,” I yell. “I need you to cover my shift.”

He jerks his head around. “And why the hell would I do some dumb shit like that?”

Because you know I’m doing what I have to do.

“I’m keeping him away the only way I know how.” I rub the building stress on the back of my neck. “Cleaning up Jacob’s mess while he can’t.”

“Just so we’re on the same page” —he points between the two of us— “we both agree this is a bunch of bullshit, right?”

What choice do I have, though?

“She may not be anything to me, but she doesn’t deserve to be swept up in his mess,” I explain.

“The fact you’re still spewing the ‘she doesn’t mean anything to me’ bullshit is comical. I’ve witnessed the way you look at her.” Derks rounds the bar and grips my neck, pulling my face inches from his own. “You listen to me.” His eyes widen. “If you need anything at all, you call me. We’ll close down, and I’ll be there. No questions asked.”

“I will.” I rush from the bar and jump in my truck.

Randy’s apartment is right up the road. With Monday’s being his day off, he’ll be hiding out in his apartment, playing Xbox.

I knock on his door repeatedly, with no answer.

“Open up, Rand,” I shout, anxious to straighten out the shit in my head. “Fuck, man. Open up.”

The door swings ajar, and my eyes reroute down to where Lydia stands.

“Will you shut the fuck up?”

An uncontrollable laughter escapes my mouth and Lydia punches me in the gut.

“Nice shirt, is it yours?” I circle my finger in front of her.

“Who’s at the door?” Randy yells from inside.

“Oh, hey, buddy,” I shout over Lydia’s head.