“I’ll walk you out,” Alena said, falling into step with her. “I’m not like that. This restaurant really does matter to me. It does. It’s just that Pierce does too, and I’ve put him off so many times lately to get this business up and running. He’s been good about it . . .” She trailed off and rubbed the back of her neck, frowning as she said the last.

“Everyone’s entitled to a bad day, Alena. I’ve certainly had my share,” Zyah assured.

“Well, if you ever want a second job, it’s yours,” Alena offered. “I mean it. I could use the help.”

“Thanks. When I think my grandmother is safe, I’ll take you up on it.” She meant it too. She wasn’t someone who liked to sit around the house all the time. She was used to working long hours. And she didn’t want to brood about Player. It was going to hurt like hell when she had to let him go.

They were on the floor moving between tables now. The soft murmur of people talking, clearly enjoying their food and the atmosphere, appealed to Zyah’s sense of harmony. Somehow, Alena’s state of mind jarred the notes just a bit, so the melody was that bit off. Something wasn’t quite right.

“See that man sitting over there in the corner?” Alena whispered. “The one with the little boy who looks to be about two?” She indicated a very handsome man who was leaning toward a little boy with a mop of dark hair, wiping gravy from the child’s chin. “That man is trouble with a capital T. He comes in every week and sits at that table with his boy. And he’s nice. I know. I had Code check him out. Like the real deal. A good guy. He takes care of that boy by himself. The mother’s out of the picture. And he’s a firefighter. Works for the fire department. EMT on top of it.”

“Why is he trouble?” Zyah asked. They were at the double doors of the restaurant. The doors were thick and beautifully carved. She touched the wood and instantly knew Player had been the one to carve the doors for Alena.

“Look at Darby. Be casual about it. She’s Czar’s oldest girl. He adores her. The club adores her. And she’s looking at Mr. Firefighter. Mr. Dad. Mr. Super-Hot Guy.”

Zyah glanced at Darby, and sure enough she was looking at the man with interest. More than interest. “How old is he?”

“Unfortunately, not very old. He’s twenty-three. Had the kid when he was twenty-one. He’s smart and was already in school for firefighter, EMT and paramedic. He continues with his schooling. And he’s looking back at her. I can’t blame him. She looks older than she is. She works hard and she likes children. But Czar would kill him for looking.”

“You’d better give her that information,” Zyah said. “That wouldn’t be fair.”

“I do so love a good Romeo and Juliet story.” Alena sighed.

Zyah shook her head. She was afraid Alena might be taking that story a little too far herself.

EIGHT

Zyah sat in the armchair across from the bed trying to puzzle out what was causing Player to continually have such horrific, traumatic nightmares when his brain was slowly repairing itself. They were four weeks in. Four weeks. He was so much better. During the day, he was up and talking with her grandmother. Entertaining her. He was pale but getting stronger every day. His balance was still a little off. It wasn’t like he could go run races, but it was a brain injury.

Steele continued to come every day, but instead of twice a day, he was coming once a day. Zyah could tell the brain injury itself was mostly healed. Steele didn’t want Player overdoing anything. He wanted him up and walking around, with his brothers supervising. He liked him with Anat, outside when they could sit for small blocks of time, nothing strenuous. Player was stronger, there was no doubt about it, but the nightmares and horrendous migraines were as bad as ever.

Zyah hadn’t dared sleep in the guest room. She showered when she came home from work and just went straight to her bedroom, giving her grandfather’s charcoal drawing her traditional hello and pressing a kiss to her father’s intricate scrolled frame with two fingers before sliding into the chair beside the bed. Player always said the same thing.

“Not safe for you in here.”

She always said the same thing right back to him. “Not safe for you without me.”

He couldn’t exactly argue with her. They stared at each other in the darkness. Why did he have to be so damn gorgeous? Why did she have to like him so much? When she was in his head, there was nothing of the smiling man he gave to her grandmother. With the things she saw in his head, she didn’t understand how he could smile.

Tags: Christine Feehan Torpedo Ink Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net