“Maybe he got tired of being so close to you yet still being so far and he’s letting out that frustration. Or maybe he just hoped that if you were scared, you’d run straight into his arms.”
I clenched my fists. “It’s not Cade. It’s either Ricky or Linton. Probably Ricky.”
“We shouldn’t assume it’s anyone,” said Blake. “You assumed it was Ricky, and that meant he was the only person you watched out for. You weren’t as wary of Linton as you may have a right to be. I say may have a right to be, because we can’t be sure it’s him either. It’s best to just be on the lookout for anything or anyone suspicious.”
Okay, that was a good point. “I won’t make assumptions, then. But I won’t believe it’s Cade. If you weren’t so damn paranoid that he wanted me, you probably wouldn’t have looked in his direction.”
“It’s not paranoia, baby. I know when someone wants what’s mine.” He framed my face with his hands. “Although I don’t like being around someone who’s been inside you, I wouldn’t point the finger at Cade—hurting you in the process—if I didn’t think we needed to at least consider him. I would never set out to hurt you. Tell me you know that.”
I exhaled heavily, losing some of my anger. “I know you wouldn’t purposely hurt me.”
“Good.” He gave me a quick kiss. “Be vigilant. Stay safe. And call your mom to arrange something.”
My nose wrinkled at the reminder. “Enjoy your lunch with Bastien and Tara.” See, I could be mature. I could push past my petty jealousy that she knew him better than I did. I could push past my distaste of her so he didn’t feel torn. It probably wasn’t fair of me to be so opposed to her because she hadn’t really done anything wrong. I just didn’t like what I’d heard and seen of her so far.
He smiled, as if aware that it had been a bit of a struggle for me to say those words. “I’ll call you later.” With that, he returned to his car and drove away.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sarah was so desperate for the gossip on Blake that she refused to wait until we took our break. She harassed me for information until finally, as I was mopping up a spillage on the hardwood floor, I quickly brought her up to date. I told her about my meal with Blake, how I’d stayed at his place last night, and that I’d decided to give a relationship with him a try. She was ecstatic to say the least.
As the pace was real slow and the only person near us was Henry—who was having his daily nap in the corner booth and snoring like a barnyard animal—I also told her that Linton had been loitering outside the Vault last night and could possibly have called me, her mouth went slack. “Noooooooooooooo.” I refrained from adding that I’d been lured into the garage and had witnessed quite a scene—Blake’s business was his to share or not to share.
“We thought it was Ricky who’s been playing games with me, but it could have been Linton all this time.”
Her nostrils flared. “That shit-eating prick.”
I smiled despite myself. “You think he eats shit?”
“I will make him eat shit.”
“You’ll have to get in line if you want a shot at him.”
“I’ll bet Blake’s at the front of that line.” Her brow furrowed. “Why are you scowling?”
“He said something that pissed me off.”
“Is this a new thing?”
“No, but … he considers Cade a suspect.”
Sarah’s head jerked back. “That’s ridiculous. Cade would never—”
“I know he wouldn’t. I’m just telling you what Blake said. Honestly, I think it’s just a little petty jealousy on his part, though. He wants Cade to be a bad guy.”
She shook her head vigorously. “My brother wouldn’t harm you by word or deed. Ever. He adores you.”
“And I adore him. We’ve been friends a long time.”
“Yeah, but he …” She clamped her lips together and averted her gaze.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s definitely not Cade. But if your caller disguised his voice, it could be that he thought you’d recognize it. That means that if it’s not Ricky or Linton, it could be someone else you know. Like Joshua Buchanan. That small-pricked asshole would relish messing with you.”
“You think he has a small prick?”
“He’ll have a small prick once I chop most of it off. I’ll leave him a stump so he can still pee.”
I smiled and put my hand over my heart. “I love you, Sarah.”
“Who wouldn’t?”
“Oh, and I met his stepsister and the redhead.”
Sarah’s eyes bulged. “Spill!”
“I saw Emma this morning at his apartment. She’s nice. She’s a PI, and she’s going to do some research on Ricky and Linton.”
“Well that’s good.”
“She definitely doesn’t have any designs on Blake, unlike Laurel. As for the redhead, Tara, I’m not so sure. I met her at the club last night. I don’t like the way she looks at Blake. Or that she apparently tries luring women away from him as part of some imaginary competition.”
Sarah pulled a face. “Ew. That’s just weird.”
“I’m not convinced she’s gay. I think she’s bi.”
“And, what, lures away Blake’s women out of jealousy?”
“Maybe. This could just be me being bitchy because I don’t like that she knows his secrets when I don’t.” I would have loved to be able to mention ‘Montgomery’ to Sarah, just in case she recognized the name. But this was something close and personal to Blake. I wouldn’t repeat any of it to anyone else.
“You two done gossiping?” Sherry called out.
Sarah snorted. “Like that will ever happen.”
Sherry just huffed. “Get to work.”
As usual, I made coffees, jotted down orders, wiped tables, and collected dirty glasses. Whereas I’d ordinarily disappear into my own imagination when there was a lull in the flow of patrons, I couldn’t today. I had too much on my mind, and too little to occupy it. The more time went on, the more I started to feel like a bumble bee trapped in a jar.
As I rattled off an order for three beers to Reed, he said, “I’ll take these drinks over.”
I tilted my head. “Why?”
“Those guys are on the rowdy side, and they can get pretty damn handsy. It’s bad enough that they were flirting with you like crazy. I’ll bet Blake won’t like hearing that guys were making moves on his woman.”
“I’m a waitress at a bar, Reed. Dealing with flirts is part of the deal. Anyway, it’s not like they touched me or anything. They’re just a little enthusiastic.”
Reed shook his head. “I’m taking the drinks over, deal with it. You know, I gotta say, I wouldn’t have thought you’d be interested in a guy like Blake Mercier. He’s not your usual type. Not fun and outgoing. He’s more …”
I didn’t hear what Reed said next, because I caught sight of a cobweb on the neon ‘BEER’ sign above the bar. My muscles bunched. Dammit, how did I miss that? It needed to go. And fast. If I could—
“You okay?”
I blinked at Reed. “Fine. Just need to get rid of that cobweb.” Did it annoy me that my mind seemed to obsess over shit like this when I was stressed? Yes, but there was no ignoring it.