The Pack Rule Number 1 No Mates novel Chapter 4

DRAVEN

“I didn’t miss anything,” I say with a roll of my eyes. Glancing around him at the back table, I can see Barbie staring at us with daggers in her eyes. “Your date looks thirsty,” I quip. “So, what can I get you?”

He glares, shoving himself forward to lean across the bar.

God he looks good in that tight white shirt.

“What did that Armani Moron give you?” He hisses at me, eyeing the small bulge in my pants’ pocket.

At first, I am a little confused, then I realize he is referring to Mister Hottie in the three-piece. “A twenty,” I answer, not really sure why. I don’t owe this fool any explanations.

His jaw clenches before he smiks. A deep dimple forming in one cheek. “What else?”

My eyes narrow at him, my gaze stuttering on the impatient line of patrons behind him. “Do you want something or not?”

“What else did he give you?” He asks again.

He couldn’t possibly have noticed the little folded paper with the phone number on it, right?

“His number,” I say to him softly as his silver eyes fall toward my lips.

He jerks backward, still staring at my mouth. “One hard lemonade and two shots of Jack,” he says. Then ripping his eyes to the left, he glares at Mister Hottie’s table.

“Coming right up,” I say, turning around to grab the ingredients.

I can feel him watching me and I do my best to focus. It was all I could do to keep my momentum going and not spill anything with the fire of his eyes on my back.

“Let me have it,” Domonic commands from behind me, causing me to laugh as I mix lemon syrup and vodka in a hot glass from under the shelf.

“I’m not done making it,” I snipe, turning back around.

He grins at me, going full dimple and swiping two fingers over his chin. Then, giving me a stupidly sexy look, he says, “I’m talking about the guy’s phone number. Not the drinks.”

I dite down slightly on my tongue to stop myself from bursting into giggles. “No,” I say smoothly, presenting him with his order. “Besides, his is only one of many.” And it’s the truth. In just the few hours since we’d opened, I’ve already made four hundred in tips and collected twelve different phone numbers. Ten from men and two from women.

Domonic glares at his drinks, shaking himself for a moment before taking them off the counter. “Have Bart meet me in the back room.” He slaps a hundred on the table – no number. “Keep the change,” he says.

Make that four hundred-seventy-five.

Then, without another word, he heads back to Barbie. Sliding back into his seat, I notice he was still staring at me as I charm my way through the next five patrons. In fact, each time I look up I am met with his heavy lidded gaze. But the dimples are gone. It seems the smile from before was given only so that I might grant him what he wanted.

But damn that smile is fire.

Bart slides up next to me so suddenly, I have to suppress a scream. “You scared me,” I snap, slapping his wrist.

He giggles, “Am I that hard to look at?”

“No,” I roll my eyes. “Your friend wants to see you in the back room.”

“My friend?”

“Me,” Domonic says, startling me and causing me to jump.

Bart catches my eye and we share a look. “Sure, thing Domonic.”

I watch as the two of them disappear down the hall toward the restrooms and into the office in the back. Seeing that they left the door slightly ajar, I scan the action around me. Satisfied that a moment away won’t be too terrible, I make my way toward where they disappeared.

As carefully as possible, I station myself between stacks of boxes just outside of the office door and listen.

“What the hell is she still doing here Bartlett?”

“Bartending. What does it look like?”

“You know I want her gone.”