Dirty Sexy Saint (Dirty Sexy 1)

“Stop stirring up shit,” Clay said in a low, menacing voice he barely recognized as his own.

“Is that what I’m doing?” Levi asked, unfazed by Clay’s anger. “If you’d just talk about it instead of pretending it never happened, then maybe you’d quit hiding behind this bar and meaningless women.” Levi eyed him knowingly. “Better yet, maybe you won’t let the one worthwhile woman get away.”

Clay braced his hands on the edge of the bar and sent his brother a dangerous look. “Let it fucking go, Levi,” he said in his most threatening tone. “I don’t need a lecture, and our shitty past has nothing to do with any kind of relationship I have with Samantha.”

“No, it’s just holding you back from having any kind of relationship at all.” Levi sighed, the sound rife with frustration. “You don’t always have to be so damn strong for everyone, Clay, and you don’t have to carry the burden alone. If you remember, I was there, too.”

“I fucking remember everything, Levi.” How could he ever forget when the nightmares plagued him on a regular basis? It had been the worst night of his life, and that was saying something considering all the horrible things the three of them had endured as kids. He still had the physical scars to remind him every damn day what they’d gone through.

Clay exhaled a stream of breath that did nothing to ease the pressure in his chest. “Now that you’re done psychoanalyzing me, feel free to leave, because I have work to do.”

“Of course you do,” Levi said sarcastically as he slid off the barstool, clearly knowing he was being dismi

ssed. “Have a good night, Clay.”

Was his brother seriously wishing him a good night after tangling his emotions into a giant fucking knot?

Clay glared at Levi and flipped him the middle finger, uncaring that anyone in the place might see the rude gesture. “Fuck you for screwing up my night, asshole.”

“You’re welcome.” There wasn’t an ounce of regret in Levi’s eyes or expression. Mission obviously complete, Levi turned and strode out of the bar, leaving Clay alone with memories that were now raw and perilously close to the surface.

Chapter Ten

Samantha ate breakfast and washed the dishes, her mind preoccupied with Clay, who’d been gone before she’d woken up this morning. She’d thought what had happened in his office last night had been more than just sex, and she couldn’t help but feel disappointed at being alone again.

She had truly thought that things had changed between them. That he’d quit trying to avoid her. But she’d noticed a distinct shift in Clay’s mood after his brother Levi had left. He’d seemed angry about something, and even when she’d had a moment from her busy tables to ask him if everything was okay, he’d given her an abrupt “I’m fine” that had told her he was far from okay but whatever was bothering him wasn’t up for discussion.

So, last night she’d given him space, even though she hated the distance he’d created between them. After the bar had closed and she and the other employees were done with their light cleanup, she’d realized that Clay was in his office—with the door closed—which was equivalent to a loud stay away from me sign posted on the frame. Tara confirmed that she’d heard Clay and Levi arguing, and while Samantha wanted Clay to know he could talk to her if he needed a listening, non-judgmental ear¸ she instinctively knew that he wasn’t the kind of man to discuss personal issues or one to dissect his feelings with a woman. No, Clay was controlled and guarded, emotionally and physically. He was always there for other people and his employees, listening and caring about their problems, but in the short time Samantha had known him, it was apparent that Clay wasn’t comfortable when it came to opening up to others, and especially her.

It was incredibly frustrating, considering she wanted to know so much more about Clay Kincaid. He’d given her little tidbits of his past, just enough for her to know his childhood hadn’t been ideal. Unfortunately, he was excellent at deflecting any attempt she made to dig a little deeper in hopes of learning what experiences had molded him into the man he was today—one who was generous and reliable and decent, yet so emotionally guarded.

Last night, she’d come upstairs and had taken a shower, intending to wait up until Clay finally came up to the apartment. But the moment her tired body had sunk into his soft mattress and her head had hit the pillow, she’d been out. And by the time she’d gotten up this morning, he was already gone.

It felt as though they were back to square one, and Samantha refused to let Clay retreat from them, from her, after finally making progress with him yesterday afternoon.

She’d just finished drying the last dish when someone knocked on the door that led out of the apartment to the side lot, where deliveries to the bar were made, and where the employees parked their vehicles. She figured whoever was there, it had to be for Clay, but since he wasn’t around, she headed for the door.

She looked through the peephole and saw Katrina standing on the other side. Samantha unlocked and opened the door, happy to see someone she already considered a friend.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Samantha asked curiously, her gaze taking in the other woman’s outfit. She experienced a moment of envy at the way Katrina could pull off wearing a dark brown suede top that laced together in the front and made her look tough and sexy at the same time. The tight fit pushed up her breasts and made them look amazing. She had on a matching miniskirt and cute beige suede ankle boots with a nice-sized heel.

“I have a delivery for you,” Katrina said, flashing a smile.

“Me?” Samantha laughed, now even more confused. “I don’t remember ordering anything.”

“You didn’t. Clay did.” Katrina shook her head and waved her hand in the air, making those colorful butterflies inked on her arm appear as if they were taking flight. “Or rather, Clay told me what he wanted to do, and I did the ordering because there is no way he could have pulled this off on his own,” she said, looking very pleased with herself.

Samantha had absolutely no idea what Katrina was talking about, but she was definitely intrigued. She followed the other woman’s pointing gesture down to the parking lot, where two young, muscular men stood next to a small, nondescript delivery truck, waiting.

“Bring it all up here, boys!” Katrina called out.

For the next fifteen minutes, Samantha stood in the living room with Katrina while the guys brought up delivery after delivery of boxes and large-handled bags from Williams-Sonoma—a high-end store that sold the best of kitchen equipment and small appliances, professional bakeware, and specialty items. She was so stunned she was speechless. When one of the men carried in a big box with a picture of an industrial-grade stand mixer on the side, Samantha’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor as understanding finally dawned.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed, both shocked and elated by what Clay had done. He’d taken her dream of being a pastry chef and was helping to make it a reality.

“He bought all this stuff for me to use to bake, didn’t he?” she asked incredulously.

“Yep,” Katrina confirmed. “I wasn’t sure what, exactly, you would need, so I asked a consultant at the store to put together everything a new pastry chef would need to have in her kitchen, including all the ingredients you might need to do the baking,” she said, sounding as excited as Samantha felt. “You should be well equipped since I pretty much cleared out the baking aisle at the grocery store.”