Page 20 of Only For Him

“One second, Brae, I’ve got to grab more coffee liqueur from the back.”

While she’s gone, my attention drifts toward the black door that blends in with the wall. That door leads to Declan. The Boss. The man behind the red door. I’m enthralled with him. There’s no better way to put it. Every time I have a moment to myself, I think about him. I try not to, especially when I’m on shift, but I can’t stop. The images come fast and furious. Declan leaning against his desk, his dark eyes raking over me. The way he told me not to wear red … ever again. I think of him constantly at work, and when I lay my head down at night, I dream of him.

With the uncomfortable heat lingering on my skin and the conversation from last night coming back to me, I do everything I can not to recall the way he warned me away … because it only makes me want him more.

Standing up straight, I place my fingertips on the edge of the bar. The feelings I have for Declan Cross can’t be denied. Emotion rushes through me every time I think of him. A different emotion every time, it seems. Right now … I’m wondering what would have happened if I stayed in his office and stripped for him. After he told me not to wear red ever again, I could have taken the hem of that short dress and pulled it right over my head. What would he have done?

What wouldIhave done?

In fact, I think of that very scene most of the time I’m here. Every quiet moment where the black door comes into view. That scenario where I’d stayed and been bold and given into the sordid desire he lights within me.

With my eyes closed, I remember exactly why that’s not going to happen.

And then every other little detail that pushes me away comes back full force. All of the warnings and fine print that come when you make a deal with the devil.

That hall downstairs scares me the most. It gives me chills to think about walking down it, and I’m not sure why. The image of that red door does nothing but excite me. The hall, though … the very thought of it causes a chill that elicits a prick of caution, lifting every small hair on the back of my neck.

Scarlet said not to worry about what happens in those rooms downstairs. She said that I’m welcome to go down there if I like. We’re all welcome. Then again, I’m not really welcome, am I? Declan said not to wear red, which means I’m not allowed toengagewith anyone. Even if I want to. I’m still not sure I’d ever want to … not with any guest. When I think about taking someone down there, I can’t picture walking down that hall, or even entering one of the private rooms. All I can think about is Declan’s red door.

The sound of Mia clinking the glasses brings me back to the present.

As I gather my composure, she makes the drink I’ve been waiting for. I glance over my shoulder, but before I can leave to drop it off, she says, “Braelynn, wait.”

“Yeah?”

“After you drop that off, can you head downstairs for me? In the far back room, there’s a box of sugar crystals. It says sprinkles on the box but it’s not sprinkles.” She brushes the hair from her face, seeming even more tired than earlier. “Either way, I need it, and Benji is swamped. I’m trying to help him out. Can you?”

A chill comes over me. Those damn halls are toying with me today, but I smile back at her as if nothing is wrong. Everything’s fine. It’s just an errand on the lower floor, and nothing more. “Of course I will. Need anything else while I’m down there?”

“That’s it. Thank you.” She stresses her gratitude, taking in a long breath and letting out an even longer exhale before heading back behind the bar. Maybe the kitchen is short-staffed, I’m not sure, but I can grab a box from downstairs easily enough. It’s not like we’re busy.

With the tray in hand, I deliver the drink to the businessman at my table.

They’re both stiff and quiet, staring at each other. It’s tense. My simper is plastered on as if I can’t tell. As if it’s not suffocating being within ten feet of them. If I had to guess, the negotiations aren’t going well. “Do you two need anything else?” My voice is too bright, a little too loud, but it seems to shake them out of it. The mood lightens slightly as I stand at the side of the table, the tray tucked under my arm.

One of them smiles and laughs a little, sipping at his drink.

The other, the man who’s downed his White Russians without taking time to taste them, slides his hand onto the small of my back. “Maybe some …”

My spine stiffens and without my conscious consent, my gaze is ripped away to the black door. As I take a small step back, the man blinks, seeming to take in my dress for the first time. He yanks his hand away like I burned him. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“It’s okay,” I reassure him, although everything in me is on high alert.

His hand barely touched me, but it was more than obvious and I know Declan watches. The last thing I need is for Declan to be upset. I don’t know exactly what happened the first night, what set him off, but I don’t want that again. I wonder if the man knows what happened the other night. “My apologies, sincerely.”

“It’s fine, really.” I play it off and swallow down any fear. The color has already drained from the man’s face. It’s even more obvious because of his dark suit. Both men seated at the table are dressed in what appear to be expensive suits, custom tailored to their frames, but both men are rough around the edges. There’s nothing smooth or charming or … well-bred about them. They’re gangsters, is what they are.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“No. You’re perfect,” the second one says. Now he’s making a point to smile at me, leaning back in his chair to put space between us. “We’re all good.”

With the anxious bundle in the pit of my stomach, I flee to the black door.

I head down to get the sprinkles. Down those hard iron stairs. At the bottom I pause and take stock of my options. There’s Declan’s red door, down one part of the hall, but which room is the back room?

Fuck. My head’s a mess and I didn’t bother to ask which room is which. The last thing I want is to open the wrong door. I should have asked Mia for specific directions. Not that anyone is here, I remind myself.

It’s not like I’m going to walk in on anyone. Ridding my clouded head of the apprehension, I pick the first door I come to. I’ll find the damn back room myself.

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