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I’m pinned by his stare as he assesses me with a straight face and slight cock of his head. Then, like the flip of a switch, he turns on a dazzling smile that makes the hairs standing on end at the back of my neck settle. “So, how do you like working here?”
“I, um—Yeah, it’s good.” I shock myself that I’m able to speak, even if it is just bumbling like a fool.
His smile softens, and there’s a heat to his eyes when he asks, “Do I make you nervous, Miss Amanda?” He slowly strolls around the island, and I can smell his rich, masculine cologne now that he’s only a few feet away.
“No.”Yes.
“Oh?” He raises a brow.
I steady myself with a deep breath. I bet the sick bastard gets off on intimidation. I won’t give him the satisfaction. “You startled me is all. I thought I was the only one here.”
Shit, shit, shit.A realization hits me.Was he in his office when I was picking the lock?I bite my cheek until I taste the tang of blood.He’s going to kill me now.
“I only just arrived. I heard your music and came straight back.” I hope the giant breath I release isn’t too obvious. “I knew it was family dinner night and figured I’d stop by to let the beer guy in.” I’m taken off guard and oddly touched that he knows his employee’s weekly family gatherings.
“There’s something about you that is justsofamiliar.” He closes the distance between us, and a rock wedges in my throat. His proximity weighs on me like a physical thing.
His eyes flick between my eyes and my throat, and I swallow down my fear. I watch his eyes track the movement with unease. He reaches out, and liquid panic courses through my veins. I don’t know how I’ll respond if the hands that killed Beth touch me.
Apparently, I’ll do absolutely nothing. He tilts my chin up to peer at my face like it’s an unsolvable mystery, and despite every cell in my body screaming at me to run, I stand stock-still.
Pools of yellow. Blurred red. Black. Pink. Red.
It’s these images that give me the false bravado to continue my charade and answer with a shrug. “People say that a lot. I guess I just have an extremely average face.”
He drops my chin and looks almost offended. My skin tingles from the loss of contact. Don’t ask me why. “There is nothing average about you.” His voice is so definitive, I find myself nodding along. “You shouldn’t talk down to yourself like that.”
Mesmerized by his commanding-yet-gentle tone, I can’t look away from his eyes. “Okay.”
I bite my lip, and his eyes flick to my mouth as he mutters, “Good girl.”
I don’t have time to analyze the weird heat spreading through my chest at his words because a heavy knock pounds on the back door. Cash reacts before me, opening the door and greeting the beer guy.
Beer Guy rolls in a dolly carrying a keg while Cash holds the door. Finally remembering how to use my feet, I hustle over to the walk-in and open that door for him to wheel the keg in.
“Thanks, hun.” He winks, and I grimace. Speaking of average. This white man is exactly that. Receding hairline he’s desperately trying to cling to, with old and worn New Balance sneakers on his feet.
I may have imagined it, but I’m pretty sure Cash goes rigid in my periphery at the man’s comment.
We continue this process for two more kegs, and on his last trip, Beer Guy says to Cash, “She’s new, huh? I know I’d remember a rack like that. Maybe I should get a job here.” My stomach churns as he speaks like I’m not right here, hearing every word. That familiar anger that every woman knows seethes in my chest as he gropes me with his gaze.
It’s so quick, I’m not even sure how it happens, but all of a sudden Cash has the man’s face pressed hard onto the counter and his arm pulled back at an unnatural angle. The man grunts in pain, and I can’t help the small wave of satisfaction that runs through me.
“I think you owe the lady an apology.” His voice is cold, detached, and fucking terrifying. His muscles ripple under his tight, black tee as he easily pins a man with at least fifty pounds on him.
“Woah, hey now—it was just a compliment!” he whines, and I roll my eyes. Cash wrenches his arm back further, and the man howls. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry, man!”
Cash twists his head to look at me, and I can see the sheer panic welling in his eyes. “I said apologize to thelady, not me.”
“I apologize. I apologize. I’m so sorry.”
I nod uncomfortably. The small glow of satisfaction I had when Cash first pushed him down has been replaced with a sick feeling. This is the real Cash Fox. Wild. Violent. Unpredictable.
“And I’m not your ‘man,’” Cash spits.
“Of course. Sorry, boss.” The man’s voice wobbles.
I’m genuinely worried Cash is going to kill this man when he leans down to get right in his face, making sure he doesn’t miss a word. “I’m not your boss either. I’m your goddamn king, and you’ll show some fucking respect when you’re in my kingdom.”
