Nolan by Lane Hart, D.B. West
Chapter Two
Nolan
It took five days, not seven, to help the Savage Kings in Virginia raid all of the ports looking for their stolen firearms and then make the men responsible pay.
Which means that me, Hugo and Abel are heading back down south, making an extended pit stop in Cape Cartwright. The guys gave me shit for coming back, but also admitted they wouldn’t mind seeing Felicity again. Since it’s Thursday and those girls don’t dance again until tomorrow night, I’m on my own, waiting outside the club.
Rita is the last one to leave yet again. Me and her manager are going to have a little talk about that, too. There’s no reason one of the fat boy bouncers can’t stay until everyone leaves. The cheap bastards running the place are probably just too stingy to pay them to wait the extra hours for cleanup.
At least there aren’t any masked gunmen lurking in the back parking lot tonight. That doesn’t mean there weren’t any yesterday or won’t be any tomorrow.
For as long as I’m in town, I’ll be here waiting for Rita to get off work, making sure she’s safe but also hoping to convince her to go out with me.
I already know that getting her into my bed is going to take some work. But I’m willing to wait and earn it. After how hot just kissing her last week was, I know it’ll be worth it.
Tonight, when she comes out the back door looking worn down, I’m leaning against the side of her car closest to the door so she can see me and I won’t scare her.
“Hey,” she says as she approaches.
“Hey,” I reply.
“You’re back early,” she remarks as she comes closer. There’s only one lamppost back here, but it puts off enough light that I can tell she’s wearing the usual, likely required, black dress that ends right above her knees, this one sleeveless with a V neck that reveals all that tempting cleavage from her ample chest.
“I’ll be honest with you,” Rita starts. “Even if I wasn’t dog tired, I wouldn’t invite you home with me.”
“Why not?” I can’t help but ask, even if I already figured as much.
“I live with my little brother.”
“Yeah? How old?”
“Sixteen.”
“Then he’s old enough to know what happens when a man and a woman share a bed together,” I joke with her.
“I’m sure he does,” she says with a smile lifting the corners of her luscious lips. “But I’m trying to be a good role model, which means I’m not going to bring home a different man every night.”
I’m happy to know she doesn’t sleep around. It makes the challenge to convince her to be with me even more exciting.
“What about the same man every night?” I ask.
She laughs softly, then says, “Why are you wasting your time on me? There are plenty of prettier, smaller women around who would sleep with you, ones who don’t work sixteen hours a day and have no time for flings or anything else, for that matter.”
“Sixteen hours?” I repeat in disbelief. “You work sixteen hours a day?”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“Five days a week. On the weekends, I get a break and only work about nine hours.”
“Jesus, woman! Are you trying to kill yourself?”
“I’m trying to support myself and my brother,” she replies sharply. “Teenagers aren’t cheap. They need a car, and insurance is outrageous. Then there’s the cool clothes, phones, and video games.”
I hold up a palm to stop her. “Let me get this straight, you work sixteen-hour days so your brother can have cool shit?”
“Well, that’s just a small part of it. There’s also rent, utilities, my own car payment and insurance. You know, the normal cost of being an adult?”
“Why are you raising your brother? Where are your parents?” I can’t help but ask, thinking they must be serious deadbeats to put this responsibility on her.
“They’re dead.” Her voice is hard, making me realize I pressed too far. “And now that you know more than you should about my life and I know nothing about you, I’m going home and going to bed.”
“Wait,” I say, stepping forward when she starts to walk around her car to get to the driver’s side. “Let me take you to get something to eat.”
She lets out a puff of laughter. “In case you haven’t noticed, eating more food is the last thing I need.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Never mind…” She starts toward the car door again, but I grab her elbow to stop her. “Come have a hot breakfast with me. Eggs. Bacon. Stacks of pancakes dripping with syrup. You need to fuel up before your next insane sixteen hours of work.”
“Fine,” she huffs. “But you’re paying, and I’m not putting out for breakfast.”
“Of course I’m paying! What kind of man do you take me for? And I figure it’ll take at least a few breakfasts, lunches, and dinners before I convince you to put out.”
“Could be a lot of wasted meals and time if you’re wrong,” Rita remarks.
“That’s a chance I’m willing to take. Come on. What do you have to lose?”
“An hour of sleep,” she promptly replies, and I drop her arm.
“That is an unfortunate sacrifice. What if I bring you lots of coffee tomorrow? Tell me where you work and I’m there.”
“Jesus, you’re persistent,” she huffs. “And I’m too tired to stand here and argue.”
“Good. Then I’ll follow you to the all-night diner.”
“Okay. I shouldn’t, but…okay,” she says as she opens her car door and slips inside.