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The hostess showed them to an alcove at the back of the restaurant. The two bench seats hugged the narrow walls with a giant table in between. Beck laughed when River snagged the side that afforded him a panoramic view of the waitresses, leaving him and Seth to stare at River’s shit-eating grin. Beck slid into the dark corner. He didn’t really care.
Seth slid in beside him, across from River, while the hostess handed them each a menu and sashayed away. As he and Seth scanned the appetizers, River craned his neck, gaze darting around the room. Clearly, what he wanted to eat wasn’t on the menu.
“I can find a marker and write FREE TONGUE RIDES on your forehead if you think it’ll help,” Beck drawled.
“Don’t be hating. It’s not my fault you two are so pussy-whipped you stopped making women scream months ago.”
“Your sister has a big mouth,” Seth growled.
Instead of defending Raine, River suddenly snatched up his menu and buried his face.
“Hi, guys. Welcome to Bazookas. Can I—”
That voice had Beck’s head snapping up from the menu and zeroing in on the all-too-familiar waitress.
Heavenly.
She stood at the end of the table, gasping, eyes suddenly wide as the moon. The red flame of embarrassment sailed up her chest and settled on her cheeks as he got a look at her getup. Just like the hostess, her breasts overflowed from her tight white bra. The smooth flesh of her bare torso was interrupted only by the gentle indentation of her belly button. The tiny strip of fabric showed off her hip bones and barely shrouded her pussy.
What. The. Fuck?
How many drunk assholes had pawed, slapped, and propositioned his girl? Probably dozens, and he wanted to kill them all.
His blood boiled.
His body tensed.
Every cell thundering in his veins turned to lava.
His inner beast jerked, fighting the urge to bend Heavenly over the table, lift that joke of a skirt, and turn her ass red. The girl fucking belonged to him, and he itched to prove it to her. But he’d be goddamned if he exposed another inch of her skin in this cesspool of overflowing testosterone.
“Oh, my gosh.” Above his rage, he heard Heavenly’s voice quiver. “W-what are you doing here?”
“I think the better question is, what are you doing here, little girl?” Beck growled.
“I-I’m working.”
“Not anymore, you’re not,” Seth vowed as he tossed an arm around her waist and lifted her. Ignoring her yelp, he swung her over his lap and onto the bench, trapping her between them.
Beck grabbed her chin. “You’ve never worked at the pizza place, have you?”
“No.”
Seth curled his fist in her hair and turned her toward him. “So you lied to us again?”
“Not technically. I told you I worked in a place with overgrown kids who had sticky fingers and that the uniform was embarrassing. That’s all true. I never said I worked at Pepp-E-Roni. I just asked you to drop me off there.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Beck growled, palm itching. No, it burned. “You’re damn lucky there’s a couple hundred people in this place.”
“Amen. Have you been working here since December?” Seth demanded with a scowl.
“Yes.”
It was all Beck could do to hold his shit together. “For three fucking months? Why? Why would you purposely parade your half-naked ass in front of a bunch of drunk perverts?”
Determination flickered in her eyes. “Do you honestly think I want to work here? That I like wiggling into this…costume? No! I do it because I have to. Between school and volunteering, I only have twenty-five hours a week to make money. It had to be enough to put a roof over my dad’s head and buy food and meds and every other essential in life. I chose this over stripping or streetwalking. With my education and skill level, this was the only other job that paid enough for me to scrape by.”
“We solved your problems last night. This morning, you opened up and talked about your mom. We had everything out in the open. So why the fuck did you mislead us about this job?”
“I hated to be dishonest. But I didn’t want you to worry over something I can’t change.”
Seth huffed out a furious breath, shaking his head. “You thought sneaking behind our backs would be a great way to repay us?”
“No. I’ll be forever grateful for what you’ve both done. You saved my dad… But I don’t see how making you support me entirely is any sort of thank-you.”
“Don’t you get it? You don’t have to scrape by anymore. Beck and I will take care of you.”
“You’re not going to support me, and I need this job to survive.”
Her words sliced at Beck’s heart. He remembered being sixteen and on his own. Being hungry and willing to scavenge for any morsel he could find from dumpsters behind restaurants simply to stay alive. Being scared to sleep for fear he’d be beaten or raped by drunks stumbling down the alleys. Then, he’d been willing to do almost anything for a clean bed and a meal. He’d been too proud to ask a damn soul for help. If Gloria hadn’t intervened, Beck had no idea where he would have ended up—or if he’d even be alive.
