Walking the Line Read online

  But first, I had to charm Ellie.

  Considering she seemed to hate me on sight, it could be tough. But I relished a challenge and when Kye had mentioned she had a spare room above the bar that she occasionally rented out, I knew what had to be done.

  Impress with my work ethic, rake in a stash of tips and appeal to her gentle side. If she had one. I’d never met a more prickly person. But the fact she’d given me a chance at a job when Kye had asked meant there had to be a softer side beneath the short spiky blonde hair, kohl-rimmed blue eyes, vivid red-slicked lips and black leather.

  She would’ve intimidated me once, that kind of brash, bold woman. But I was through being the perfect son who dated the perfect woman. I couldn’t be that guy anymore. Not for my family. Not for me. And there was something about Ellie that intrigued me on an intrinsic level. I’d felt sucker-punched in the gut when she’d first looked at me, all wary defiance, as if she expected me to punch back and would come out swinging.

  So I’d done what came naturally. Flirted. Kye had later mentioned I was lucky Ellie hadn’t kneed me in the balls on the spot. But Kye had also mentioned he’d never seen Ellie so defensive, which meant I’d crept under her guard. Something I intended on doing throughout my training, starting now, as I caught sight of her coming down the stairs tucked into the back corner.

  The first thing I noticed, she’d changed. Swapped the black leather pants and jacket for a red, skin-tight leather mini and a crimson bustier that pushed her tits up to create an eye-popping cleavage. The second thing? She hadn’t lost the scowl but my rock-hard cock didn’t seem to care.

  “What are you staring at?” She marched behind the bar, rested her hands on it, and glared.

  “You look incredible,” I said, the simple truth not garnering any change in expression from her. So I switched to charm. “Can’t a guy appreciate the beauty of a woman?” I didn’t add, ‘without getting his head snapped off.’

  “You’re full of shit,” she said, sounding utterly disgusted. “Now do you want to learn the ropes or not?”

  “I’m all yours.” I stepped around the bar to stand close. Close enough to smell an alluring fragrance reminiscent of the short stopover I’d had in Hong Kong: Oriental, mysterious, heady. “Do your worst.”

  She stiffened, her squared shoulders giving me another eyeful of that enticing cleavage. “Cut the bullshit flirting, okay? I’m immune.” She tapped her watch. “Save it for the customers, who’ll be arriving in less than an hour.”

  Rather than give in, I pushed myself up onto the bar, sitting on it so I could face her. “Don’t you like flirting?”

  “What do you think, Einstein?” Her withering stare would’ve shriveled the balls on a lesser man. But I wasn’t backing down. I needed to be in that room over the bar later tonight and that meant whittling away at her defenses, one quip at a time.

  She puffed out a long breath. “Look, it’s been a long week. You either want this job or not. Me? I don’t give a shit but Kye’s a good guy and he asked me to hire you as a favor.” She pointed at the beer kegs. “So you either get your arse off my bar and start showing me what you’ve got or you can piss off.”

  I’d like to show her what I had but then I’d be back to square one: no money and living in that hellhole hostel.

  Appearing suitably chastised, I slid off the bar and landed on my feet. “I appreciate the job. And Kye is a good guy, because for some unknown reason he took pity on an idiot Irishman this afternoon, not only preventing me getting bashed, but getting me this job too. So thanks.”

  Her response was a brief nod but I noted the softening around her mouth.

  “I’ve worked in pubs back home, so I’m used to pulling a pint or two.”

  At last, she looked at me, and she’d lost the mean glitter in her eyes. “Where you from?”

  “Cork. Ever been to Ireland?”

  For a second I swore I glimpsed sadness lurking in those big, blue eyes before she shook her head.

  “So you’ve lived in Sydney your whole life?”

  She hesitated, glanced away. “Came here in my late teens. Was a small town girl before that. Never travelled.”

  “Me either. This is my first trip and I only came here because…” I trailed off, not wanting to divulge the entire truth, because it’d make me sound like a sissy.

  “Because?” she prompted, staring at me with interest. At least I had her full attention.

  “Because my family wants to migrate here and my grandfather pulled strings to get me a turf management position as a way of testing the lay of the land.”

  To my astonishment, the corners of her mouth curved into a semi-smile. “You’re their scout? Checking that we don’t have kangaroos roaming the city streets?”

  “Yeah, go figure.” I smiled and for a long, drawn out moment it felt like we connected. “Lucky for you, I’m no boy scout.”

  Rather than bristle and shut down as expected, she rolled her eyes. “That pesky flirting is just part of your Irish charm, isn’t it?”

  I leaned in closer, buoyed when she didn’t edge away. “Is it working?”

  “Hell no,” she said a tad loudly and I laughed.

  “Guess I’ll have to keep trying then.”

  She held up both hands. “Please don’t.”

  “Nice to know you think I’m charming though.” I winked. “Gives a guy something to work on.”

  “The only work you’ll be doing around here is this.” She gestured at the bar. “I’ll show you where everything is, watch you pull a few beers, then throw you in the deep end.”

  “I’m up for it.”

  For the second time in as many minutes our gazes locked. Hot. Loaded. Potent.

  And suddenly, gaining access to the room upstairs was more than having a decent place to stay.

  It meant I’d be closer to Ellie.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ELLIE

  Working with Finn was hell.

  Pure, yanking-out-eyebrow-hairs-one-at-a-time, Brazilian-wax, torturous hell.

  Being understaffed, I’d had to work the bar alongside him tonight. So I’d been privy to his constant sexy smiles, his incessant flirting and the panty-dropping charm that seemed to come as natural to him as breathing.

  And while he did it with everyone, he seemed to focus most of it on me. I’d tried freezing him out, shooting death glares, even the odd name-calling. The result? He tried harder. What was worse, I actually liked it.

  I didn’t flirt. I didn’t encourage guys. I donned my armor every morning, from my foundation to the five ring piercings in each ear, and faced the world head on. That was another thing; when I’d walked downstairs earlier, the way he’d looked at me seemed like he could see beneath my deliberately chosen leather exterior to the real me beneath. It had disarmed me more than anything and I’d wanted to fire him on the spot.

  Kye had been right about the optimism thing too. I’d heard Finn say he’d had his money stolen by some chick at the backpackers’ where he was staying, had lost his passport and had his pockets picked, but then he’d waxed lyrical about Sydney and made the crappy stuff sound insignificant.

  The guy was one of those annoyingly chipper people who bounced through life with a permanent smile on their face, oblivious to the darker realities. I couldn’t stand that kind of blatant cheeriness. It grated. And made me want to shake some sense into him.

  But then Finn would turn some of that warm liveliness on me and for an all-too-brief second I’d forget the reasons why I’d morphed into a hard bitch and allow myself the luxury of basking in his all’s-right-with-the-world happiness.

  Eager to get the hell away from him, I slid the last bolt home on the front door. “I’ll pay you for tonight then you can leave out the back.”

  “Actually, could we talk?”

  Liquid warmth pooled in places it shouldn’t and I inwardly cursed my body’s reaction to his voice. “What’s up?”

  “Firstly, aren’t you going to commend me on
a stellar job?” He grinned like a proud little boy who’d mastered toilet training. “Several of those customers said they were moving on to other clubs but ended up staying here all night.”

  Annoyed that he was right, I crossed my arms. “And you think that’s because of you?”

  “Damn right.” He perched on a bar stool and patted the one next to him. “They enjoy my flirtatious charm as much as you do.”

  I frowned. “But I don’t.”

  “Liar,” he said, so softly my skin rippled with goose-bumps. “You love my charm.”

  I snorted and reluctantly took a seat beside him, only because my new three-inch heels had murdered my feet. “You can turn it off now. Your audience has left.”

  “Why don’t I turn it on instead?”

  Before I could blink he’d placed his hands either side of my barstool, effectively pinning me between the bar and his all-too-close body.

  Bamboozled by his nearness, the lust in his eyes and the intoxicating scent of hard-working male sweat and woodsy aftershave, I blurted the first thing that popped into my head.

  “I’m thirty-four.”

  “You look twenty-four.” He smiled and I resisted the urge to dip my finger into that captivating dimple. “My age, in case you needed more ammunition to keep me at arm’s length.”

  He was a decade younger than me? Jeez. Not that I had any intention of robbing a cradle, even a cute Irish one, but the fact we were ten years apart merely accentuated the divide between us.

  I dragged in a deep breath, immediately wishing I hadn’t when my lungs filled with him. “Move.”

  He leaned in closer. “Only if you ask nicely.”

  “Don’t make me hurt you.”

  It sounded childish, an empty threat that made him laugh.

  “Like to see you try, babe.”

  “I just bet you would.” I glanced away, irritated by the heat flooding my body and rising into my cheeks. “It’s been a long day, so could you please just shut up and—”

  “I’m staying.”

  “Excuse me?”

  There was ballsy and charming, and then there was certifiably insane. No way would I have a one-night stand with a guy I’d only just met; who happened to be my employee.

  “Kye said you had a room upstairs you occasionally rent?” To my relief, he leaned back, releasing me from my not-totally-unwelcome prison. “I’m low on funds and have a feeling any cash I earn from here will disappear as fast in that hostel where I’m staying, so…” He tried one of his signature smiles and damn if it didn’t melt me a little. “I was hoping you’d help me out.”

  If working alongside Finn had been hell, having him across the hall from me upstairs would be madness. But the longer he stared at me with those guileless eyes filled with hope, the harder it was to say no.

  Steeling my resolve against Irish charmers, I shook my head. “No.”

  His mouth quirked into a wry grin. “Need some time to think about that?”

  I paused and tapped my temple pretending to think. “Uh…the answer’s still no.”

  “It could be fun…” He leaned forward again and this time I laid a hand on his chest and shoved him backwards. “Or not.” He laughed, the deep reverberations reaching down to my soul. Where no man would ever touch again.

  “Come into the office, I’ll pay you, and you can go.” I tried to stand, desperate to escape our nearness, but his knees bumped mine and I ended up almost on the floor.

  “Okay, but not before this.”

  His arms shot out to steady me, then he hauled me closer. Close enough I could see his stubble was a shade lighter than his auburn-blonde hair. Close enough I could see indigo flecks in his green eyes. Close enough I could see a tiny scar on the outer corner of his right eyebrow.

  “Let me go—”

  He kissed me. Snatching my breath. Stealing my sanity. Sealing my fate.

  Because as Finn’s lips moved against mine and his tongue demanded entrance I was foolishly willing to give, I could think of nothing but the heat, the pleasure, the desire to experience this and so much more.

  Our teeth clashed a little. Our noses bumped. It didn’t matter. What Finn lacked in finesse he more than made up for with enthusiasm. I’d never been ravaged like this before, as if he couldn’t get enough. It was pretty damn intoxicating for a hardened cynic.

  I started to pull away but he wouldn’t let me, deepening the kiss until I was consumed. Unable to think of anything else but being in this moment, somewhat grateful to turn off the cold, hard, logical part of me and turn on the womanly desires I’d long suppressed.

  “Let me stay,” he murmured against my mouth, a second before his hand palmed my breast.

  I groaned at the same time reality set in, his plea serving as a douse of icy water.

  Of course that’s what the kiss had been about. A way of sweetening me up.

  God, I was such a fool, believing for a moment that this sweet, young guy could want me. I should know better by now but looked like my past mistakes had taught me nothing.

  I shoved and he released me, managing to look guilty and angelic simultaneously. “Get out.”

  “Not ‘til you agree to let me stay.”

  I shook my head, annoyed by the uncharacteristic burn of tears behind my eyes. “You’re a piece of work, thinking one lousy kiss would sway me to change my mind.”

  Confusion clouded his expression, before I glimpsed hurt. “That’s not why I kissed you.”

  “Then why did you?”

  “Because I’ve wanted to do it all frigging day, sweetheart, from the moment you strutted out here this morning.” He grabbed my hand and pressed it against his fly. Yowza. Impressive bulge. “I want you. And I’m sick of spending my life not saying what I really want because of what other people may think.”

  All too soon, he released my hand and I surreptitiously flexed my fingers at the loss of heat. “You won’t understand but being the perfect son, the eternal nice guy, gets you frigging nowhere.”

  Damn, he’d done it again, honing in on my weak spot without knowing. Because I did understand how being a good person got you nowhere. It’s exactly what had happened to me, why I’d left Dubbo to start afresh in Sydney.

  My Mr. Nice had crapped on me from a great height, leaving my dreams shattered and my life in tatters. Being naive, trusting and nice sucked, which is why I’d done everything in my power to be the exact opposite in my new life here. So why the hell was I contemplating taking a softer approach on this guy, just because I felt an unwelcome empathy?

  “Look, Ellie, you’ve been great to me today, throwing me a lifeline with this job ‘til I replenish my bank balance.” He rubbed a hand over his face, before eyeballing me with his too-honest stare. “You’re hot. That’s why I kissed you. End of story.”

  He pointed upstairs. “As for the room, consider it your good deed for the day, taking pity on a dumb schmuck who trusts too easily.”

  Hated to admit it, but his bluntness got to me as much as his charm. And a small part of me really wanted to believe he kissed me because of the underlying spark between us. I shouldn’t believe him, I wouldn’t, but what if for the short time he was in Sydney I could…

  “Already done my good deed for the day, giving you a job in the first place,” I said, my gruffness hiding how much I liked his refreshing honesty.

  He smiled and damned if I didn’t want to kiss him again. “Haven’t you heard? Do an Irishman a favor, you’ll have luck for a week. Do him another, and you’ll get really lucky.”

  I didn’t need to see the naughty gleam in his eyes to know how he wanted to get lucky with me.

  “You’re a pain in the arse,” I said, shaking my head, on the verge of admitting defeat. It must’ve shown, because he grinned like I’d handed him the keys to the Opera House.

  “And you’re the best.” He swooped in and kissed me on the cheek, before doing an Irish jig that had me laughing against my better judgment. “I’ll crash here tonight and get my
stuff in the morning.”

  “Technically, I haven’t said yes.”

  “But you want to.” He cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing my lower lip and I couldn’t have moved if I wanted to. “I like you, Ellie Finch.”

  As he lowered his head to brush his lips across mine, a little voice inside my head whispered, ‘I like you too’.

  This time, his kiss was soft and tender, over before it had begun, leaving me wanting more.

  “Go out with me,” he said, snagging my hand. “A date. Somewhere nice.”

  “Thought you were broke?”

  The corners of his mouth curved upward. “Romance doesn’t require a lot of dollars.”

  “Romance?” I snorted. “Maybe you were right about being a dumb schmuck.”

  “Don’t you believe in it?”

  I blew a raspberry.

  “I’ll take that as a no.” He chuckled and squeezed my hand, surprising me when I realized I hadn’t yanked away from him yet.

  “I don’t date.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Ever?”

  “Not interested.”

  “In guys?” he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.

  “In mess.” This time I succeeded in pulling my hand out of his.

  “It’s just a date.” He reached for me again and I sidestepped.

  “And my answer’s still no.”

  I headed for the back to lock up before he could undermine me further with those mischievous eyes and delectable dimple.

  “You know I’ll keep asking, right?” he called out.

  “Not going to change my mind,” I said, ignoring the way his taunting chuckles made my insides clench with desire and made me want to yell ‘hell yeah’ to any damn question he may ask.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  FINN

  I wiped down the bar, watching Kye hustle a drunk preppy businessman out the door.

  It had been his third eviction of the night and Ellie didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she had that adoring look most women had for heroic deeds. Yeah, like being an unofficial bouncer was so hard.

  Kye waited by the front door as the last two patrons, barely legal women who’d ingested too many Margaritas, tottered out into the cesspool that was Kings Cross at night.

  In the week I’d been here, I’d seen crowds stream along Darlinghurst Road, particularly between eleven pm and two am, when Ellie closed on the weekends. She’d casually mentioned the Cross had the highest murder and crime stats in the city and with some of the lowlifes I’d seen, I could believe it. What intrigued me though were the hip inner city types strolling alongside them, searching for entertainment, good food or a drink.