Any Time, Any Place (Billionaire Builders #2)(10)
“You misunderstand.”
She lifted a brow. “Hard to misunderstand that one.”
He gave a slow smile. “I want to get my hands all over your bar, darlin’.” He stroked his palm gently over the surface where worn wood was hidden beneath a glass top. “I want to restore it back to its original glory.” He paused. “What’d you think I meant?”
Annoyance flickered over her face, along with something else. Dalton hoped it was disappointment, but he figured she’d deny it. “My bar is fine the way it is.”
“I disagree. This is an antique, a rare art form.” Already he ached to examine the wood, find its strengths and weaknesses, make it great again. “This cheap gold trim was added later. The wood is chipped and peeled, and the glass top surface should be a crime. It’s tawdry.”
She tilted her head in concentration. “Tawdry? How is a practical glass top tawdry?”
He gave a mock shudder. “Another convenient, cheap addition that takes away the beauty of the piece. I could do amazing things for you. Make this bar the crowning centerpiece of the entire restaurant.”
She tapped a finger against the full curve of her lower lip. He fought back the urge to snag her hand, open his mouth, and suck. Nibble. Swirl his tongue around until she looked at him with need and not distance. He shifted on the bar stool and felt his jeans scratch against his erection uncomfortably.
“It would be too expensive,” she finally said.
“I’ll give you a deal. You can even pay in installments. You know I work at Pierce Brothers, and we’re the best in the Northeast. You won’t regret it.”
He thought she’d agree, but a flare of anger lit her eyes and she stepped back. Her voice stabbed at him like icicles, sharp and frozen. “I said no. I don’t need your help or your brothers’. With me or my bar.”
She walked away with a withering look, and Dalton wondered again what the hell he was missing.
chapter four
Raven had the dream again.
She was walking down a road, sun drenching her body, a bunch of wildflowers fisted in her hands. Contentment stirred within as she followed the familiar path, listening to the calls of birds and enjoying the light tug of wind in her hair. She was part of her father’s paintings, in a still, serene place she liked to visit when life got stressful or she needed clarity.
A squeal of brakes echoed in the air, along with twisting metal crashing into metal. The flowers dropped from her hand and she began running, faster and faster, sensing with every step that she was nearing a terrible truth that would destroy her.
But she couldn’t stop. She ran until the breath tore from her lungs in painful gasps, and she skidded to a halt in front of the horrifying scene unfolding before her.
Fire burning bright and melting metal. The explosion of glass and the stench of burnt rubber and oil rising in a fury of smoke. Her father’s beloved face appeared through the broken window, screaming her name as the flames ravaged him alive. Raven sobbed and tried to run to him, but her feet were stuck to the ground and she was unable to move. His hands reached out, clawing frantically, and finally she was free and rushing toward him.
Seconds before she reached the car, a woman’s face appeared beside her father’s, her mouth twisted into a terrible smile. She grabbed Raven’s father and dragged him back, screeching like a demon, her words echoing over and over in a terrible mantra that Raven would never forget.
“He belongs to me, not you! He belongs to me! Me, me, me, me . . .”
Then the car exploded, and Raven watched her father burn.
She woke up with her pajamas stuck to her damp skin and her heart beating erratically. Gulping in breaths, she tore off the sheets and jumped out of bed, trying to calm herself. Crap. The nightmare had haunted her after the funeral, until she’d been forced to see a grief counselor by Aunt Penny and given a range of pills to cut her anxiety and help her sleep. She’d literally felt on the brink of a nervous breakdown, unable to process the sudden loss of the one man in the world she loved and trusted. After two years of doctors and burying herself in her room, she’d turned to a different type of distraction to stop the nightmares. A wild ride of destruction that had built like a snowball and morphed into an avalanche. There’d been boys and sex. Drugs and alcohol. She’d dropped out of college, telling Aunt Penny she wanted to see the world, but most of her journeys included bunking with strangers, getting high, and waking up with men she didn’t remember.
Until she realized life was whizzing by and she’d done nothing to claim her space.
Her father’s words haunted her from beyond the grave.
“Baby girl, always remember we’re given a responsibility in this life to claim our space. You can decide to fill the world with beauty and kindness, or laziness and self-destruction. Choose well.”
In a matter of weeks, she’d decided to get her shit together. She came home, got a job in a restaurant, rented a studio apartment, and registered for online classes. She mended her relationship with her aunt and swore to beat the demons. She made peace with the past and forgot about solving the endless mystery of why her father ran off with a stranger. And finally, the nightmares stopped.
Until Dalton Pierce appeared.
Raven pushed her hair back and made her way into the kitchen. She wouldn’t be going back to sleep for a while, so she might as well make coffee. The silence of night closed around her until each clink of the coffeepot and bang of the cabinet hurt her ears. Maybe she should get a cat. She was used to solitude and usually enjoyed it, but lately she’d gotten itchy. In the past, itchy meant danger, and a downward spiral in the search for an adrenaline rush. Now she had a business of her own and responsibilities. Maybe in the past year, she’d shut herself out of too many possibilities. Like a real relationship, not a quick tumble in the sheets and a wave good-bye in the morning. She was finished with bad boys and charming Peter Pans. She wanted a man who was a fellow business owner, or someone who was getting tired of chasing tail and felt ready to settle down. The idea of doing Match.com made her wince, but she might need to force herself to explore all options. She certainly hadn’t met anyone worthy in her bar, since most of her customers treated her like a sex object or a buddy they could confide in. There’d been no time in the past year to think about a relationship, because My Place was an obsessive, jealous lover. Now maybe it was time to widen her scope. Do more than work twenty-four hours per day or collapse on the couch bingeing on Netflix on a day off. Meet someone who could make her laugh, challenge her intellect, and not be a total jerk.