Brick handed Charles another beer, threw the rag he’d been using to wipe the counter into the sink behind him, then took a deep breath.

He usually needed to take a few large breaths before he talked with the one woman who had captured his heart from the moment she had first spoken to him. It hadn’t been a lot of words she said either. Simply ‘Tequila Sunrise’ in response to his ‘What can I get ya?’ To his tortured heart, she rarely said much to him. For the first time dealing with a woman, he didn’t say a lot in return. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing and she stopped coming in.

He looked forward to her visits. Since Gabby, Dane, Jaxson, and Mia had started to frequent his bar more often the past few months, so had Jezebelle, as she was good friends with Mia.

The angel of his dreams.

He blew out another silent breath before stopping right in front of her. Although he was curious why she was here so early in the day—and without Mia, who she usually accompanied—he didn’t ask.

“Hey, Jezebelle. What can I get ya?”

Because I’d give you everything if you only said the word.

Not that he’d ever say that.

She glanced up from her phone, her eyes filled with pain, her lips drawn into a frown that he didn’t like witnessing.

Actually, he couldn’t recall a time he had ever seen her look so sad. Upset, flustered maybe, but not downright melancholy as she did now.

“Everything okay?” he asked when she didn’t respond to his first question.

Then she shook her head as if she had been in another world altogether and realized someone was speaking to her.

“Oh, hi, Brick. Umm…I don’t want anything. I just needed…” She looked down at her phone, her frown intensifying. Then she flipped it over and set it on the bar. Either because she didn’t want him to see something, or she didn’t want to see it any longer.

Her hands started to shake.

He usually kept it light and cool with her because upsetting the status quo wasn’t high on his list. If he wanted to keep seeing her beautiful face, he had to make sure she returned. If he said the wrong thing, he could ruin it.

But he couldn’t stand by when she looked so frightened and upset about something.

“Hey,” he said softly, placing a hand over one of hers that trembled on the counter. “Whatever it is, I’m here for you. I can help.”

He’d walk to the ends of the earth for her. He’d do anything for her. It was about time he let her know that. Oh, man, her soft hands were filling his soul with such wonder and desire. He wanted to explore more. Like bring his hands to her face, cup her cheek, and pull her closer. Kiss her lips. Devour her until she knew exactly how much he cared about her.

She slipped her hand out from underneath his, yet offered him a smile.

Oh, she could smile all she wanted, but what she did hurt. Pulling away from him as if he didn’t matter. Clearly, he didn’t.

Which was one of the reasons he never asked her out. He always sensed she was out of his reach. A little too high-class for someone like him. Apparently, his instincts had been right. She didn’t want him in that way, and to his battered heart, not even as a friend.

“I appreciate the thoughtfulness. I didn’t mean to come here.” Her eyes widened when his smile fell.

A man could only take so many beatings before the pain started to show.

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way. I did mean to come here. I…” She put her hands over her face, a low mewing sound escaping.

Shit. Regardless of how her actions were slicing him to the core, he didn’t want to see her cry.

Before he could say something—not that his words seemed to be making a difference—she lowered her hands, a fake smile plastered on her lips.

“I needed a place to be by myself for a moment. Collect my thoughts. I’m so sorry if I offended you in some way. I’ll order a drink. This way I’m a paying customer and you can go back to work.”

Brick wanted to dig deeper. He wanted to know why she had to collect her thoughts. What had made her upset and need to flee? Had someone hurt her? A guy?

He could never get a clear answer whether she was seeing someone when he tried to fish for information with Mia and everyone else. He didn’t exactly want everyone to know how he felt about Jezebelle.

But he also didn’t want to hurt her any more than she was already hurting.

“You don’t have to order anything, Jezebelle. You’re more than welcome to sit here for as long as you like. If I can help with something, I will. You only have to say the word.”

Then he looked away before she saw more than what he wanted her to see and grabbed a glass, filling it with a few ice cubes and water.

“Here. No charge for water. But I can get you something else if you want something.”

Her fingers grazed his as she took the glass from him. Her eyes, large and round with shock, shot from the drink to his eyes. Had she felt the zing of bliss as he had? He couldn’t quite decipher what she had felt by the slight touch.

“Holler if you need anything else.”

He turned around, intending on heading toward the other end of the bar as far away from her as possible. He didn’t want to blurt something he’d regret.

He took a step.

“Brick?”

He blew out a breath before turning back around, his mouth forming a grin he didn’t feel.

“Yeah?”

She bit her bottom lip, the picture entirely too enticing to his deprived body. It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman. Partly because his last girlfriend had sucked the soul out of him and he hadn’t been ready to try again. Partly because he’d been lusting after Jezebelle from afar for far too long. If he couldn’t have her, he didn’t want anybody. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

“Do you get along with your parents?”

What an odd question.

He shrugged. “With my mom, yeah, I did. She always supported me in everything. Even when I made some dumb mistakes. My dad…” He chuckled. “We rarely see eye to eye. Got my first tattoo when I was seventeen, and it’s been downhill ever since. We’ve always had a rocky relationship.” He leaned closer, resting his hip against the bar. “Why do you ask? Parental problems?”

A brilliant smile ruptured as a silky laugh escaped her luscious lips. “That’s an understatement. My dynamics are the exact opposite. I’m Daddy’s girl and can do no wrong. My mother is the devil herself.”

“Something got your mom’s panties in a twist? Is that why you need some alone time right now?”

It all made perfect sense. When he had visited his parents—when his mom was still alive—he usually tried to keep his distance from his father as much as humanly possible. Fights would break out otherwise. Mostly verbal. His father wasn’t abusive when Brick was a child, but as soon as he became a man, it didn’t stop his father from trying to exert his dominance. They had a very volatile relationship.

“You could say that.” Her smile started to dim, and he hated it.

“How can I help?”

He’d do anything—anything—to get her beautiful lips to curl back up. Seeing sadness anywhere in her features twisted his heart in the wrong way.

“Well, if you got a great plan on how I can stay in New York and not give in to my mother and her overbearing ways, then please, help me. Because, if she has her way, I’ll be moving back home by the end of the week.”

Well, shit. He didn’t like anything she said. Not one bit.

His heart pounded at the thought he’d never see her again. Oh, no. He had to see her again. He looked forward to her visiting the bar, laughing with Mia, and enjoying herself. Perhaps he shouldn’t have kept his distance as much as he had. Perhaps he should’ve manned up and asked her out. Now he might never get the chance. Not if she moved away.

“You have a great job here. You’re a grown adult. I don’t get it.”

“The last production wasn’t so hot. Didn’t last more than two weeks. I just tried out for another part in a different play and I didn’t get it. I’m in limbo right now, which plays right into my mother’s hand and her profound belief that I’m wasting my time acting.”

He wanted to break something, throw a few bottles hard against the wall, snap a chair in two. Simply release the anger welling inside when he saw the tears glisten in her eyes. Her mother was causing her so much unnecessary pain. Why did parents have to be so damn controlling in their children’s life, especially when they were old enough to do what they damn well pleased?

“You’re a wonderful actress. You have the voice of an angel.”

Her eyes widened. “You’ve seen me? I don’t recall you coming to any of my plays.”

He shrugged, glancing away. “I saw one. First time I’ve been to a play. I didn’t want to embarrass you or anything.”

“Embarrass me?”

Yeah, he didn’t want to talk about how some of the people at the theater had eyed him funnily. Probably because of his tattoos. He wasn’t exactly the picture-perfect look of a nice guy. Most people glanced at him and saw bad boy stamped all over him. Even without speaking to him or getting to know him. He couldn’t stand judgmental people. There was no point in trying to fix their assumptions, so he let them assume as much as they wanted.

“It’s no big deal. Anyway,” he said, inching up his smile, hoping she’d drop that part of the conversation, “you don’t need your mother telling you what to do. Another production will come along and you’ll be the star you are.”

“I wish I had your confidence in everything.” More pain filtered into her gaze. “It’s embarrassing to admit, but I’m not sure I can cover next month’s rent. I don’t have a choice but to go home with my mom. It’s been kind of hard the last few months in general. She knows it. She’s here to do what she thinks is best for me. I have to uphold my part of the bargain.”

Bargain? Oh, that sounded like a huge story behind such a simple word. He didn’t want to overstep or anything, but the thought of losing her, her moving away, ripped him to shreds.

“I can help you pay the rent.”

“Oh, Brick,” Jezebelle said, her eyes still filled with pain as she reached out to him, touching his arm. The light touch sent sizzles of energy straight to his soul. “I could never ask that of you.”

“You didn’t. I offered.”

“It’s not that simple. It wouldn’t work anyway. My mother is a force of nature. She will get her way.”

Her hand trembled as if she were about to pull away. He didn’t want her to. He placed one hand over hers.

“There’s got to be something that would stop her.”

Maniacal laughter fell out. “Short of winning the lottery and waving a ton of money in her face that I don’t need her, there’s nothing.”

There had to be something.

She hadn’t pulled her hand away this time. If anything, her grip felt like it was getting tighter on his arm, as if she didn’t want him to move away or let go of her.

“How about if you were engaged?”

“What?”

Yeah, what? He had no idea where that thought came from.

“You could be getting married. You don’t want to leave your soon-to-be husband.” Because if he were her soon-to-be husband, he wouldn’t let her out of his sight.

“I’m not even dating anyone.”

He leaned closer, removing his hand from hers, and cupped her cheek as he imagined doing earlier.

“A stand-in fake fiancé for a short amount of time.”

His idea was getting odder and odder.

“And who would I get to do something crazy like that?” she asked in a whisper as she leaned into his hand.

“Me. I’d do it.”

Copyright © 2021 Amanda Siegrist.

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