Don't Look by Alexandra Ivy

Author:Alexandra Ivy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-08-19T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Nash was enjoying a deep, alcohol-induced sleep when the pounding on his door shattered his dreams. He groaned, pulling the covers over his head. What sort of monster disturbed a man before noon on a Monday? There was a law against that, wasn’t there? If there wasn’t, there should be.

He tried to recapture the darkness that had offered him a temporary peace, but the pounding continued with a ruthless determination. Whoever was outside wasn’t going to leave.

“Christ.” Climbing out of bed, Nash pulled on a pair of jeans he’d tossed on the floor and headed through the cramped front room. He was currently stuck in the renovated garage behind his mother’s house. If she heard the commotion, she’d scurry across the backyard to poke her nose into his business. “Keep your pants on. I’m coming,” he yelled, his head pounding.

How much had he drunk last night? A full bottle of vodka? Pulling open the door, he winced. The morning was gloomy with fat gray clouds hanging low, but it was still bright enough to make him narrow his eyes.

“Morning, Nash,” a short woman with a bright red coat wrapped around her full figure said as she brushed past him.

“Shit, Chelsea.” He slammed shut the door and whirled to face his unwelcome visitor. “Do you know what time it is?”

She shrugged. “It’s almost nine o’clock.”

“On a Monday.”

“I came by after lunch yesterday. You said you’d be here.”

Nash had a vague memory of Chelsea cornering him at church. As if he was going to discuss their sex antics in front of his mother. Stupid bitch.

“I was at the Bait and Tackle fixing the toilets.” He shoved his fingers through his tangled hair. It wasn’t a lie. He’d spent hours choking on sewer gas before he’d managed to unplug the clogged lines. “That damned place is sucking the life from me.”

She unzipped her coat and shrugged out of it. No doubt to show off the cashmere sweater that hugged the luscious swell of her breasts. With a casual motion she threw it on the threadbare chair that was piled with empty pizza boxes. The entire place was a pigsty, but he didn’t have the energy to clean it, or the interest. Maybe it was time to invite his mom in for dinner. She’d take one look around and start scrubbing.

Chelsea studied him in confusion. “I thought you loved the bar?”

“I love being a bar owner.” His lips twisted. “I hate owning a bar.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

He snorted. His fleeting attraction to this woman had nothing to do with her brains. A good thing, since she didn’t have any. “Not many things make sense to you.”

She stuck out her bottom lip in a childish pout. “There’s no need to be mean.”

“This is how I am at nine o’clock on a Monday morning.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist. As if protecting herself from a coming blow. “We need to talk.”

Nash groaned. The only thing worse than being hauled out of his bed when he was nursing a hangover was being harassed by a jilted lover.

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