My Bachelor (16 page)

His offer was tempting. I didn’t relish a long night of driving, but I wouldn’t get any sleep wondering whether or not Rafe got back to the house without notice. “I have to give you a ride back. At the rate the public buses travel this late at night, and with the long uphill hike to the house, you wouldn’t make it back before sun up. You’ll have a much greater chance of being caught.”

He pointed at himself. “Army ranger, remember?”

“How could I forget,
Outlaw
. Maybe you could add a little more adventure to your night and steal a car.” I winked at the tattoo on his arm. “I’ll take you home. Otherwise, I won’t stop worrying. Let me just hand out final tabs and get my inebriated customer at the other table a ride home.” I put on my stern teacher expression. “Stay here and try not to be noticed.”

The bar patrons were slowly finishing their last sips and making their way toward the exit. The last quarter had been spent on the jukebox, and Simone had gotten a head start on the clean up. I started toward Ursula’s office to let her know she needed to call the safe ride service.

I picked up my pace as I rounded the corner hoping hair gel wouldn’t notice me. Unfortunately, I wasn’t fast enough.

“Hey, one more beer, eh?” he called.

“Sorry, last call was five minutes ago. I’m going to have that ride arranged for you.” I continued at a mouse scurrying pace across the floor. It seemed the gallons of beer had not slowed the man down. He shot out off the bench, and his heavy, determined footsteps pounded the wood floor behind me.

“I said one more beer, honey.” His clammy fingers wrapped tightly around my arm.

Before I had time to react or make a plan or even yell for Ursula, the cold fingers fell away. A shocked string of slurred cuss words followed. Everyone’s attention had been drawn behind me. I turned around slowly, not really wanting to know what the hell was going on over my shoulder.

Rafe had the man, who now looked as pale as the napkins on the table, pressed up against the edge of the bar. Rafe was an intimidating looking man in general, but with waves of anger rolling off of him, he was downright scary. The man in his grasp seemed to have the same opinion. His hands were up in the air in surrender, and he looked close to throwing up.

It had all been so unexpected and fast, it took me a second to gather my wits. I stepped toward Rafe. “It’s fine. Let him go. He just needs to sober up.” I looked pointedly at the jerk. “Right?”

“Yep, I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m drunk.” Even his conciliatory smile was creepy.

Rafe released him, and the guy nearly collapsed into a quivering puddle. The commotion followed by the stunned silence in the room had drawn Ursula out of her office. She was carrying her sidekick, a sawed off baseball bat, in one hand and her phone in the other. Her sharp green gaze landed on Rafe. For a brief second I worried that she recognized him.

Then she looked at me. “Everything all right, Eliot?”

“Yes, everything is fine. This gentleman needs a ride home.”

“I’ve already got a car coming around for several other patrons. There’s room for one more.” She looked at hair gel. “Pay your tab and go outside to wait for the ride.” Her scowl circled the room, and she took an extra long look at Rafe. “That goes for all of you. It’s two minutes from closing so head on out. My servers are tired and they want to get home to their beds.” With that proclamation she spun around and went back to her office.

Hair gel fished in his pocket, pulled out some money and slapped it on the bar counter. Then he shuffled quickly out the door without a look back at the glowering giant behind him.

I had a scowl of my own for Rafe. In the scuffle, his hood had been slightly dislodged, but his hair was still hidden and his glasses were still in place. “Way to stay invisible, buddy.”

His massive shoulders bounced with an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, I saw him grab your arm and that was all I needed. Anonymity went straight out the fucking window.” The place was basically empty, but I knew Simone and Suzy, the other girl on shift, were watching us over their buckets of sanitizer.

“I’m almost finished and then we can get out of here. Why don’t you wait outside by the ugly yellow car that’s just one step above the golf cart. I’ll be out in a few.”

Rafe nodded and looked a little sheepish, or at least sheepish for a man his size. I felt kind of guilty about being so short with him. He had stepped in to defend me. I couldn’t think of the last time any man had made an effort to do that.

“Hey, Outlaw,” I teased, “try and stay out of trouble. At least until I get you safely back to your prison.”

“I’ll try.”

Chapter 23

Rafe

I leaned gently
against Eliot’s shabby little car, worried that if I put all my weight on it, I would dent it. The half moon sprayed a good amount of light over Sparky’s parking lot, but it was hardly enough for safety. And suddenly my mind was back on Eliot. I hated the idea of her walking out to her car alone after a late night shift. The incident inside had been a kick in the pants. When that slimy jerk put his hands on Eliot, I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to tear his greasy little head off just for daring to touch her. It was a completely unexpected reaction. The instinct to step in and help someone in trouble was natural for me. The jealous, fiery rage that had come with it wasn’t. I had no idea when it had happened, but somehow, my sweet, funny, always hurried assistant had become something much more than an assistant.

The exit door opened, and Eliot stepped out into the soft glow of the moon. She was also not a wingman. There was nothing about the girl that said wingman. Her hand reached up and brushed her forehead. The long, sleek legs she had so wrongly labeled as standard looked extra silky as she walked across the lot to her car. Instantly, I had a vision of those beautiful legs being wrapped around me. I shook the erotic thought from my head, but something told me now that I’d imagined it, I wasn’t going to forget it easily.

“What a night,” she said as she circled around to the driver’s side. “At least the tip money made up for it.” I watched her lips as she spoke. They were lips that badly needed to be kissed. She continued talking. I worked hard to cool the blood pumping through my veins.

Eliot absently brushed the curl off her forehead. She shook her hand and pills rattled in a bottle. “And my roommate, who now owes me big time, had a bottle of aspirin in her purse.” She slid into the driver’s seat.

I took a long, steadying breath and quickly reminded myself that she worked for the studio. I had no right to be thinking dirty thoughts about her. I also knew that I wasn’t all that great at listening to myself when I really wanted something.

I sat in the passenger seat and quickly came up with a topic to get my mind off the kiss.

“I didn’t leave you a tip yet.”

“Uh, I think that little scene at the end of the night made up for it.” Like her lips, the smooth olive skin on her shoulders was just begging to be kissed. And then there was the lavender smell of her hair, a shampoo that was apparently created by the sex gods, because it was a fucking aphrodisiac.

Eliot flashed me that tilted smile that could never be matched or outshone by any symmetrical smile. “Are you all right?” she asked. “You look a little dazed. Or maybe you are rethinking this whole escapade.”

“Not rethinking it at all. I’m glad I came tonight.” I took another steadying breath. In the army, I’d learned to slow my pulse and smooth my nerves whenever a situation grew tense or dangerous. My ability to stay cool in a bad situation had been the reason I was picked to go undercover and chase down black market weapons. But sitting inside the small car with Eliot was taking all my skills. The shot of adrenaline I’d experienced when I saw that asshole grab her arm had started a rush of feelings. I had to regain control. The last thing I wanted to do was scare her off or put her job in jeopardy.

Eliot turned the key several times before the car finally started.

The car sputtered the first few minutes on the road before finally warming up enough to move freely forward.

“El, I hope you’re not mad at me for stepping in at the bar. Especially because, I’ll tell you right now, I would do it again. I don’t know what came over me, but when I saw that jerk touch you—”

“Rafe, it’s all right.” She kept her eyes straight ahead as if there was a ton of traffic to watch out for instead of the completely deserted street. “It was kind of nice having someone look out for me. Sometimes I feel like I’m spending my whole life looking after other people. I’m glad you were there. And, I might add, you look exceptionally scary when you are mad.”

“Yeah? Good scary or bad scary?”

“I didn’t realize there was such a thing as good scary.”

“The minutes before you step on a gnarly roller coaster ride?”

“Right. Good one. No, scary wasn’t the right word. You looked intimidating. And pretty damn sexy to boot. It would have made for a good couple minutes on screen.”

I leaned back and tried to stretch out my legs but ran out of room quickly. “Shit. Don’t even mention on screen or television or cameras.” I rolled my head to the side to look at her. “I’m not enjoying this at all.”

Eliot’s mouth turned down at the sides. “I could take you home first, but I’m worried that my sister—”

I realized my mistake and sat up. “No, El, that’s not what I meant. I’m talking about the show, this bachelor hell I’ve gotten myself into. You, on the other hand, you’re the only fun part of this whole deal.”

A glimmer of her smile returned. “That’s nice to know. So—” she started with some hesitation. “How did tonight’s invitation ceremony go?”

“Bad.”

Her face snapped my direction. “Oh no, what happened?”

“Nothing happened. I just hated the whole thing. I sent Stella, Olivia and Tanya on their way. Only Tanya seemed truly upset.”

“Which one is Tanya?”

“See, that’s why I sent her home. I couldn’t even remember who she was when I saw her name on the list. This is all so crazy—trying to get to know all these women at once, while at the same time trying to find the one who is my supposed soul mate. I mean, as far as I’m concerned, everyone has one true soul mate in the world, and either fate brings you together or you miss out on the love of your life forever. This show has nothing to do with fate and everything to do with ratings and sponsors and the usual corporate profit.”

“A soul mate? I wonder how many of the bachelors started the show thinking they needed to find their soul mate.”

“You think I’m a cornball, don’t you? Maybe I am. Or maybe that whole soul mate theory is just my way of staying single. Good excuse, don’t you think?”

She tilted her head in thought. “Actually, it’s a noble excuse, if it’s true.” Her last words held an edge of doubt.

“Ah ha, you think I’m full of shit. Well, maybe I am.”

“Just out of curiosity, what qualities would you be looking for in a soul mate? Not that it matters to me,” she quickly added. “I thought it might help you to narrow down your bachelorette choice.”

The back window of the car rattled loudly as we rolled over train tracks. We were heading through a neighborhood of small, non-descript houses where most of the front lawns had not survived the summer drought. The sidewalks were cracked and uneven from neglect. There were no signs of life. Families were in their beds and the neighborhood dogs had settled in for the night.

I sat back and thought about her question. “There really is no concrete list. It’s more of an abstract thing, you know?”

“A romantic and philosophic bachelor,” she mused. “No wonder the casting director snapped you up.”

“Yeah, I’m a gem. That’s for damn sure.” I stared out the window as the quiet neighborhood rolled past. “Aside from finding every inch of her amazing, she’s going to be that girl who, the second I meet her, I’ll feel as if I’ve known her forever.” As I said the words, I knew. I knew I wasn’t making this up. It was true, something that had always been deep in my heart. And up until
now
, I hadn’t met that girl, that girl who could make me feel as if she’d been standing on the planet all along just waiting for me to find her. Or maybe she was meant to find me. I looked over at Eliot. I’d already memorized the tiny curve of her button nose and the way her bottom lip jutted just slightly past the top. “My soul mate will be the person who stops time for me. The person who brings my whole world to a screeching halt so I can start it again . . . with her.”

Eliot stared straight ahead, but I sensed that she’d absorbed every word. She knew too. She had to know. Or maybe I was just delusional.

She turned the car down a dark street that was lined with trash cans waiting to be emptied. “This is the street,” she said quietly. “When my dad was alive, we had this pretty little blue house that was lined with brick and had rose bushes running along the entire front yard. My mom tried to hang onto it, but the bank wouldn’t cooperate.”

“Yep I’ve found that banks are only friendly and cooperative when you have money.”

“We’re here.” Eliot pulled the car into the driveway of a small house with a cracked plaster facade. Instead of the usual steps up to the front stoop, a long cement ramp led to the front door. A withered blue sedan with a rack on the back was parked on the driveway. It was tilted to the side on a very flat tire.

Eliot reached into her purse for the aspirin. “I won’t be long.”

“Really? I was kind of looking forward to meeting the other half of George Eliot. Or maybe your sister won’t feel like a visitor. You’re right. I’ll stay here.”

She glanced toward the house. There was a light on in the front window and a blinking light bulb partially lit the front stoop. “You know what, my sister would probably be thrilled to meet you She’s asked about you more than once. And don’t worry, she knows how to be secretive. Come on.”

We climbed out of the car and walked up to the house. “My mom might be up too since she was expecting me. She has a problem with insomnia.” Eliot pushed her key into the lock. “Along with about a dozen other perceived maladies,” she added as she pushed open the door.

The front room was sparsely decorated and the wood floors were tattered and unpolished. Her mom, who had the same hair color as Eliot only with threads of silver gray running through it, was asleep on the couch with an open magazine resting on her chest.

Eliot turned to me and pressed her finger to her mouth. She crept quietly toward the couch and picked up the knitted throw off the back of a nearby chair. She placed it carefully over her mom. From there she went into the kitchen and filled a glass of water in the sink.

The small kitchen table was covered with textbooks and notepads. I noticed the one place at the table that had no chair was the place where an open book and cup of tea were sitting. I glanced around the house. It was making sense now, the ramp to the porch, the strategically placed furniture and the well-worn wood floor.

The floor creaked behind me. I turned around. Georgie’s eyes were not as blue as her sister’s, but she was every bit as pretty. Her hair was smooth and dark and lacked the wave that Eliot’s had. And there was no persistent forehead curl. She squinted into the pale light of the front room and an audible gasp followed.

Eliot had heard her roll into the room. She hurried out with the water and two aspirin and silently tilted her head toward their sleeping mom. Georgie wheeled toward me, and I met her halfway. She raised her hand to shake, but I leaned down and kissed the back of it.

“Oh wow, totally worth the headache,” she gushed and then her hands flew to her mouth as she realized she’d said it loudly.

Eliot’s mom moaned sleepily and stretched. Her eyes fluttered open. The sight of a tall stranger in her house woke her the rest of the way. She sat up suddenly with a sharp breath.

“Mom, it’s fine,” Eliot spoke up quickly. “He’s with me.”

Georgie laughed. “You wish.”

“Nice, considering I just made a special trip to bring you aspirin. Here.” Eliot walked toward Georgie with the water and aspirin.

“Didn’t expect a visitor,” their mom said as she smoothed her hair back with her hands.

“Mom, Georgie, this is Rafe. And neither of you can mention this visit to anyone. Ever.” She looked at Georgie who twisted an invisible key in front of her lips.

“No, of course not. You can trust us, Eliot.” Her mom stood. “Oh my, you are tall and”—she held her hands out in measurement—“Broad. I’ll bet your mom had a hard time keeping you fed.”

I smiled. “By the time I was fifteen, she had to double all her recipes.”

Georgie rolled more into the light to get a better look at Rafe. “You are even better in person, if that is possible. Which, clearly, it is.”

“Thanks, you are too, Georgie.”

Georgie looked at her sister. “Oh my gosh, I’m never going to sleep tonight.” She pointed up at me. “This vision is going to be etched into my eyelids, and I’m just going to smile and sigh for the rest of the night. And at the risk of sounding cliché—” She lifted her hand. “Soap and water will never again touch this hand.”

“Remind me not to let you make me a sandwich,” Eliot quipped. “Well, guys, I’ve got to get Rafe back to the bachelor house. And then I need to get to bed because I’m starting to see double.” She walked over to kiss and hug her sister and followed it with a kiss for her mom. “Mom, I’ve got enough saved for the tires, and I made an appointment for you at Triple G tires on Monday. Call the Auto Club tomorrow so they can put the spare on the car. It’ll at least get you to the tire shop.” Eliot motioned toward the door and we headed out.

“Bye, Rafe,” Georgie called sweetly as we walked out.

We walked across the dried grass to the driveway. “I like your sister. She’s a lot like you. She speaks her mind, and it’s a good mind to speak.”

Eliot stopped when we got to the car. “You must be getting sleepy.”

“Nope. I know exactly what I meant. There are some people who like to say what’s on their mind, and they shouldn’t because their mind just isn’t that interesting. But Georgie is smart . . . like her sister.”

Eliot looked down at the keys in her hand. “Interested in driving?”

I held out my hand. “Sure thing.” I attempted to climb into the driver’s seat but I couldn’t fit my legs inside. It took a lot of coaxing to get the seat to slide back. Eliot watched as I adjusted everything to my size. “I hope the seat moves forward again.”

“It should. It was probably just rusted into the position I had it in for my short legs.”

I put the key in the ignition and made a point of looking at her legs. “They aren’t short, trust me. And I’m a particularly good judge of legs because I look at them . . . a lot. I’m a leg man. And a lip man. And I’m pretty partial to a nice pair of—”

“All right, got the list, big guy. Let’s get a move on.”

The engine turned over after three tries. I patted the dash gently as a thank you.

We drove in silence for a few minutes. I hesitated to ask my next question, but I found that I was always curious when it came to Eliot. “That big mistake you said you were trying to erase—does it have something to do with Georgie? Was it an accident?”