Break Away (The Moore Brothers Book 4) Page 3

  Cole shrugged and reached for his towel. “I don’t do girlfriends.”

  “Well, then, the girl I ran into leaving your apartment this morning didn’t seem too happy with you.” Lilah pushed her sunglasses up onto her head. “Did you know we’re neighbors?”

  “You don’t say?”

  “Yep. I’m in 3B.”

  “Right next door, then.” Cole dropped his towel onto his chair and had a seat.

  “Yep,” Lilah said, popping the p at the end of the word. “Which is how I ended up being given a very important message from some yowling redhead. Apparently, you can feel free to go to hell.” Lilah couldn’t help but smile as Cole shook his head.

  “I don’t know what part of ‘I don’t do girlfriends so you better be cool with that before you come over’ she didn’t understand.” He ran a hand through his wet hair and stretched out on the lounge chair, his body taking up its entire length. “Last night was just a bit of fun.”

  “I don’t think she had quite the same idea.”

  Cole hit her with that vivid smile of his. “She didn’t seem to have a problem with it last night. Seems there was a lot of thanking God and.”

  Lilah rolled her eyes. “Oh. So you’re a player. Good to know.”

  “Why? You interested in taking a ride?”

  Lilah was appalled. “Hell no. I like my men with a little integrity.” She took the time to infuse as much disdain and disgust into her voice as she possibly could and turned away from him, pulling her sunglasses back down over her eyes. What an ass!

  “Sure you do, sweetheart. You just keep telling yourself that.”

  Who the hell did this guy think he was, talking to her like that? Just because he was chivalrous enough to help get Ellie’s rust bucket started yesterday didn’t mean he could just be a complete and total asshole today. Did women really fall for this? Is this how he ended up with that redhead in his bed last night? If so, then she totally deserved waking up to an empty bedroom this morning.

  Part of her wanted to call her brothers and tell them what a class-A jerk this Cole Bennett was. One of them—hell, probably all of them—would be more than willing to come out and remind him how to treat a lady. But, not only was she supposed to be out on her own and not relying on her family, but it really wasn’t like Cole had done anything to actually hurt her. He was just an ass. An incredibly good-looking ass, if you were into that whole rugged and world-wise look.

  Which Lilah, apparently, was.

  She spent the rest of the time at the pool totally annoyed by the fact that he wouldn’t leave. Here she was, trying to relax and feeling more than a little awkward because she was stretched out in the lounge chair next to this gorgeous asshole who just propositioned her. This gorgeous asshole who ‘didn’t do girlfriends’. This gorgeous asshole who kept commanding her attention, just when she thought she was tired of thinking about him, her thoughts would start spinning with the strange combination of battery jumping hero, sun-brown skin and blonde hair, and that poor angry redhead, staggering down the sidewalk all disheveled and furious.

  You interested in taking a ride?

  Hell no, answered her mind, her scruples, her self-worth. FUCK YES! Screamed her traitorous body.

  Lilah was not interested in frivolous anything. One night stands were not in her vocabulary. But lying here by the pool, her eyes and thoughts continuing to stray back to Cole’s strong body, his high cheekbones and broad jaw, the weather-worn crinkles near his eyes, and Lilah found herself wondering what it would be like to be with such a manly man.

  Would he take her? All rough and dominant? What would it be like to have those work-tough hands scraping across her body? Would he let her ride him? She got stuck thinking about what it be like to look down and see him underneath her. His eyes, so stormy and expressive. What would they look like, burning up at her as she writhed on top of him? Lilah shivered as a wave of pleasure rode through her body and damn if she didn’t get just a little wet.

  The thing was, she wasn’t going to be living in this apartment forever. She would live here long enough to prove to her brothers that she could survive on her own and then she would return to her comfy house on her parents’ property. So, if she did go ahead and have a one night stand with Cole Bennett, it’s not like she would run into him time and time again and embarrass herself. And if she went into the whole thing knowing what she was getting into, well, he wouldn’t be using her so much as she was using him. Or, really, they would be using each other, right?

  “You’re thinking about it aren’t you?” Cole’s voice interrupted her thoughts and her eyes flew to his.

  “Thinking about what?” she asked even though she one hundred percent knew what Cole was talking about.

  He smiled, this slippery little smile that sent another wave of desire fluttering along in her lower body. “You know very well what I’m asking.” And then, he did something Lilah found simultaneously appalling and hot as all hell.

  Cole Bennett reached down between his legs, grabbed his dick, and gave it a little squeeze. Her jaw dropped and she couldn’t help but stare. What kind of man did something like that in public?

  “That’s what I thought,” said Cole, rich laughter turning his voice into molten chocolate. “Tell ya what, princess. You know where I live. You just knock on my door and I’ll give you the ride of your life.”

  Lilah’s jaw worked, opening and closing as she tried to find something to say—the bitchier the better. But for whatever reason—maybe because she was busy fighting down the surge of lust clenching in her belly, maybe because she had never, not in all her life been spoken to like that, maybe because a big part of her was ready to take him up on the offer right here and now—Lilah never found anything to say. She just stared at him as he gathered his things and left, chuckling to himself the whole time.

  Asshole, Lilah thought at his back as he sauntered off towards the gate. She decided right then and there that no matter how much her body was all for a one night stand with Cole Bennett, there was no way in hell she would give it to him. She was, after all, the Lilah Moore and she deserved so much better than a cocky bastard who had the nerve to walk away from her, shaking his head and not even bothering to hide the fact that he was laughing

  Cole Bennett could go fuck himself, because she wasn’t going near him, not if her life depended on it.

  4

  Fuck Mondays. Fuck mornings. Fuck getting up before the sun even started to think about pulling itself above the horizon line.

  Cole Bennett poured himself another cup of coffee and grabbed his keys off the counter. It really wasn’t Monday’s fault that he had stayed out too late last night. He was a big boy and knew that his three thirty alarm was going to go off no matter how late he stayed up and he had been the one who decided to stay out anyway. If this day sucked, it was his own damn fault, Monday or not.

  Despite the early hour, the air was already thick with humidity and oppressive heat. Today was going to be a scorcher. Cole patted his chest pocket to check for his sunglasses and then locked the door behind him and ambled towards his truck, coffee in hand.

  That rusted up Neon that belonged to his neighbor was parked next to him again. Did she get that battery replaced? She didn’t come across as the kind of girl who knew what to do when her car broke down out in the wild, which was strange because by the looks of it, this particular car had been breaking down on the regular for some time now. It’s not like she didn’t have experience with that particular problem. Who knows? Maybe she was just dumb.

  Cole climbed into his truck, slid his coffee into the cup holder, and patted the dash after he shut the door. “Mornin’, Samantha,” he said. “You ready to get this party started?” Cole had bought the truck with his own money the day he turned sixteen and promptly named her. His grandpa had always said that you treat your cars like you treat a woman and they’ll take care of you in return. Cole wasn’t so sure about the woman side of that advice, but he took damn good care of hi
s truck and he would bet a whole week of sleeping in that Samantha ran better than that Lilah’s Neon.

  He checked the time as he hit the road. Four fifteen. He had more than enough time to get to the marina and get Victoria—his trawler—set up so she was ready for the day. Tommy and Stan were sure to be late; it was a rare day when they showed up early enough to be of any use before it was time to push off from the dock. It also meant that he had plenty of time to call his mom and check on her before she got to work and was too busy cleaning toilets to check her phone.

  “Hey, Ma,” he said when she picked up.

  “Hey yourself. You’re up and moving early this morning.”

  “The shrimp gods were angry last week. Spent more on fuel and supplies than I earned pulling in the nets.” That was just the honest truth of shrimping nowadays. Cole knew he was the last of a dying breed, holding onto a dying profession with tooth and nail and a stubbornness that had been bred into him and passed down through generations of Bennett men. Well, most Bennett men.

  His mom made a noise into the phone, half derision, half affirmation. “Ain’t that the way of it,” she said.

  “You good?” asked Cole and braced himself for the answer.

  “We had a weekend,” she said, her voice heavy with implication. “Your dad went on a real bender. Been drunk since Thursday and angrier with every passing minute.”

  “Did he hit you?” Cole held his breath, waiting for her response.

  “Nah. He hasn’t had the strength to hit me in a long time. He’s just mean as…” She trailed off, searching for the right word. “Well, mean as your dad on a four day bender.” She tried to laugh, but there was too much sadness and resignation in it to sound even remotely funny.

  Cole clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He wanted to tell her to leave the bastard, but years of experience told him that conversation wouldn’t go well and he wasn’t in the mood to make this morning any harder. “I’ll be swinging by after we get back in, probably sometime late afternoon. Got some money for you.” He paused. “For you, Ma. Not for him.”

  “He’ll probably be passed out by the time you get here. He won’t even know I have it.”

  Cole sniffed. He was not a fan of his mother having to sneak around like that, but that was something else he couldn’t change. “You guys good on food? What else can I bring?”

  “It’s bad enough I have to take your money, son. You don’t have to buy us food, too.”

  “Okay. Understood. Now, answer the question. Do you have enough to eat?”

  She said she did but he was sure that was pride talking. He made a mental note to pick her up a pint of ice cream and a bucket of chicken. He would tell her he was too hungry to wait until he got home and she would see right through it, but at least he would know she had a decent meal.

  “So the shrimping was bad last week? Your grandpa would turn in his grave to hear a Bennett man say that.”

  “As bad as it was for me, it was worse for everyone else. Grandpa’s luck on the water trickled right on down to me. I think I’m one of the last guys out there making a living off what I bring in.” If you call living in an apartment, driving the first and only vehicle I ever bought myself making a living, he thought, but didn’t want to say. As much as it felt like he didn’t have enough, his mom made do on way less.

  “Your grandpa always said Bennett’s were made for the water.”

  “I think Dad would beg to differ.” Cole’s dad had hated the idea of taking over his dad’s shrimping business so much that he did everything in his power to make sure the company would fail. The only reason Bennett Shrimp still existed was because Cole had made it his life’s work to save his grandfather’s legacy.

  “Eh. I think part of the reason your dad drinks is because he’s spent his life avoiding the water. Well, that and he’s just an ornery asshole.”

  Cole heard the little crack of emotion in his mom’s voice and his heart stuttered. “You sure he didn’t hit you?”

  “I’m fine, son,” she said in that way of hers that meant the matter was closed for discussion.

  Cole stayed silent for a moment, fighting the words that were bound to come tumbling out of his mouth the minute he tried to say something. The words he had said a million times. The words his mom never seemed to hear.

  “You know you can leave any time you want,” he said, despite the fact that he knew she would just shut down. “You can come stay at my place.”

  “I’m not putting you on the couch in your own damn home.”

  Cole’s eyebrows hit his hairline. This was the first time she hadn’t instantly shot down the idea. “Who said I was the one gonna sleep on the couch?”

  His mom chuckled, a real laugh. “Leave it to the son of Maxwell Bennett to put his own momma on the couch.”

  Of course, he wouldn’t put her on the couch. He would clean up his room and maybe even get her a new comforter. Maybe some extra pillows. Women loved pillows, right? He could even move his clothes down to the coat closet. It wouldn’t be permanent, just long enough for her to get her feet back underneath her.

  She sighed through the phone and he could hear all the familiar finality he didn’t want to hear. “You can keep on offering and I’ll just keep turning you down. I know you’ll never understand, but I have my reasons.”

  Cole could just see the defiant lift of her chin, the little blast of fire in her eyes.

  I understand Stockholm Syndrome just fine, he thought and considered saying it to her. Again. But, he really didn’t want to be one more thing wrong in her day, so he just kept his mouth shut.

  “Okay, Ma,” he said instead. “I understand. Well, I mean I don’t understand, but I do understand that I’m never gonna understand.”

  His mom laughed, a breathy thing that sounded too close to tears for him to endure. He grimaced and swallowed against the tight little lump in his throat.

  “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, you hear that Cole Bennett?” And this time there was no ignoring the crack in his mother’s voice, the rush of emotion she was battling down and probably praying he actually would be good enough to ignore it.

  “Geez, Mom,” he said, answering her prayers. “I’m real sorry to hear that.”

  5

  Fuck waiting tables. Lilah tried to wipe a stray lock of hair back off her forehead, using just her forearm. This had to be the hardest way to make a living of all the jobs in the whole damn world. She was constantly forgetting something, constantly getting flagged down by people who needed more to drink, or more ranch, or, you know, silverware. Her feet ached, her clothes stank like grease and food, and she felt close to tears at any given moment of her day.

  She had the distinction of being the only waitress at Lou’s Diner who needed more than three days with a trainer. And by more than three days, that meant almost two whole weeks. It’s not that it was hard, it was just … busy. She was constantly running late, running behind, getting interrupted by someone needing something from her. It’s not that she couldn’t understand what she needed to do, that part was simple enough, it was just that she couldn’t keep up. She had never moved this fast and had this many things to do at once in her whole entire life.

  And damn if her tips didn’t show it. While the other servers were busy stuffing thick stacks of dollar bills into their aprons, Lilah was most likely to get stiffed. So, not only had she had to buy these ugly black sneakers, and several pairs of black pants and white button up shirts—after the rust bucket broke down on her again and she had to pay to have it towed and to put a new battery in the stupid thing—but on top of it all, she wasn’t making much money. Long story short, her bank account was dwindling and she wasn’t putting money in as fast as she was taking it out.

  Today had been another day of pure hell. She had thought Lou’s Diner was just some little hole in the wall, a place that served bad food and had more empty tables than full on any given day. Boy, had she ever been wrong. Appar
ently, Lou’s Diner had some of the best food in this stupid town and people flocked here, filling the tables. They had a waiting list most nights. And the servers here were top notch, biting off witty remarks to familiar customers while they buzzed around the place with an efficient energy that Lilah actually found herself envying.

  They didn’t have bits of hair stuck to their foreheads. They didn’t forget to put silverware down for a new table. They didn’t forget who got what food or leave customers sitting for half an hour waiting for checks.

  Lilah stared at the tray filled with way too many drinks that she had filled just a little too full. It looked heavy. She slid it off the counter onto her waiting hand, using her forearm to balance and help distribute the weight. She straightened without spilling even a single drip of liquid and smiled as she turned to head out to the waiting customers.

  And ran straight into Christy-Anne, one hell of a bitchy waitress.

  Lilah stopped in her tracks and had one moment of terror as she saw the drinks sliding down towards her. There was no way she was going to wear that many layers of Coke, not on her last clean white button up shirt. She purposefully tilted the tray away from herself and managed to unload six full glasses of soda right down Christy-Anne’s front.

  “What the fuck!” Christy-Anne screeched as the plastic cups bounced on the hard tile. “God damn it! You clumsy…” Christy-Anne screwed up her face and blew air out her nose.

  Lilah imagined her like an angry bull, snorting smoke and pawing at the ground and couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “I’m really sorry,” she said, swallowing her laughter as Christy-Anne’s face turned a violent red.

  Christy-Anne pulled her soaked shirt away from her ample chest and blew one more angry breath through her nose before she stomped off towards the manager's office. Lilah wasn’t sure if that little incident had made her night better or worse, but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling as she refilled the drinks and raced back out to her waiting customers. She got stopped twice by people needing things on her way to serve the drinks and once on her way back and by the time she came to a stop at the serving station, she could only remember one of the things she was asked for and didn’t have the foggiest clue as to which table wanted it.