Worth More Than Money (Worth It 3)

“You good to work?” Trey asked.

“Yeah,” I said, as I stuck the cash in my apron. “I’m good to go.”

“If you don’t want to carry that kind of cash around you all night, you can lock it away in the safe back here. And I’ll keep an eye on you tonight. You know, to make sure he doesn’t do anything else.”

“Thanks,” I said.

But I knew it was an empty promise. It always was with Trey. He wasn’t going to do anything about any sort of nonsense if it brought him in money.

Money.

It was always about money with people.

I had no idea how I was going to make it through the rest of the night. I tightened my apron and zipped the pouch up, making sure no one could snake their hands in there and take my hard-earned money. After putting up with all of Gray’s verbal abuse, I sure as hell earned that wad of cash. I walked back out to a load of beer orders for men sitting at my tables, but not one of the orders were for Gray.

Good.

That meant I didn’t have to serve him just yet.

I popped open the beers and filled the mugs, then loaded a few shots onto my tray. I carried them around and divvied them out, grimacing and forcing a smile whenever a man tapped me on the ass. I hated every second of it, and the fact that Gray was staring me down made me hate it even more. I felt like a piece of bait being dangled. And I could feel his scrutiny from across the room. I picked up empty mugs and beer bottles and made my rounds, making sure no one needed any food or refills or anything like that.

And all the while, I tried to keep my mind off Gray.

Off the shrouded man in the corner eyeing me like a hawk.

Chapter 13

Grayson

Sitting at the sticky table in the corner, I watched Michelle while she worked. I needed to go back to my hotel room. I should get out of there and leave all this shit behind for good. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Where the hell had that horrible comment come from anyway? What kind of an asshole had I turned into? It just flew off my tongue before I could stop it, but I wouldn’t apologize for my disgust. Michelle was so much better than this place. Did she not realize that? Did she not understand that she could literally get a damn job anywhere she wanted?

Why the hell was she stuck getting slapped on the ass in a damn dive bar?

I needed to go apologize for my rude comment. I was being an asshole and, honestly wasn’t acting any better than the likes of Andy. I needed to be better. If I stood a chance of figuring out whether the child was mine or not, I needed to not drive her further away.

After all, she’d already run several states away because of me.

It had been simple enough to find her. Way simpler than it was to forget her. And seeing her again made my cock shoot hard instantly. The way that shirt had clung to her tits. The way her face glistened with the sweat of her hard work. What I wouldn’t give to massage the ache of a long day in a smoky bar away with my tongue. The second I had laid my eyes on her, my body screamed for attention. Beckoned to have her pressed against me.

I was under her spell. A spell that seemed relentless.

Shaking my head, I crossed my arms over my chest. I sure as hell didn’t need to be having that kind of a reaction to her. There was still the chance that child wasn’t mine. But even the thought didn’t deter me from wanting her. Didn’t deter me from wanting to mark her as my own and slam into that body of hers until she remembered who she belonged to. I watched Michelle rush around, bussing empty mugs and bottles while being harassed by the men in that bar.

Yet, she somehow retained her innocence.

She still looked beautiful. Still doe-eyed and bright with light. Even though the chance of her being the sneakiest manipulator of them all was still

there, I wondered why she would still be putting on the act. I watched her for twenty minutes before she acknowledged I was there. And, in her defense, I slipped in with the express purpose of being unseen. In the absence of knowing I was there, she still looked innocent. Absolved of all wrongdoing and more determined than ever.

Why keep up the act if the man the act was meant for hadn’t been there to witness it? Was she trying to keep her hometown fooled?

Or did I have it all wrong?

I was affected by her. Physically and emotionally. I’d never felt so vulnerable and so wanton for a woman before in my life. And I hated it. I hated it and I loved it and I cursed it and I cheered it. I wanted to scoop her into my arms and whisk her away to a better life, and I wanted to sit her down in a doctor’s office until she succumbed to the idea of a paternity test.

I wanted to drag her away from it all and take care of her, while still wanting to scream at her and ask her why she did it.

If she did it.