Page 54 of His Old Lady

"Swear on it, Faye."

"I want to believe that," she whispered.

"Besides, you're the only one I know who has the talent to run the place."

Her gaze flickered, and her mouth drooped. "Why did you have to say that and ruin everything?"

He straightened, grabbing her hands and pulling her to her feet. "Let's call it a night. We're both dead on our feet, and the bar opens in two days. I'll follow you home."

"You don't have to."

"I want to." He opened her car door.

She held up her finger for him to wait and moved toward the building. "I need to grab my purse."

He lit a cigarette while he waited. The times she showed how sensitive she was were the times he wanted her all to himself. Any of the men inside would jump at making her feel better.

That was his job. Tired of keeping her at a distance, he wanted nothing more than to show her how much he wanted her in his life.

Faye returned and slid into the driver's seat. He tossed his cigarette butt and shut her door, slapping the top of the vehicle to signal for her to take off, and he'd follow.

The hour-long trip, only interrupted by four cars going the opposite direction on the interstate, gave him time to clear his head. Faye would need to deal with him every day at the bar.

What turned out as something for her, he had to admit the decision to hire her had to do more with him, wanting to keep her in his life. But, he wanted more.

Yet, the closeness lately only beat in the fact that he needed to stay away.

There was a time the simple thought of taking her and treating her like his woman had sickened him.

Then, something had changed.

He wanted her more than anything, and he'd taken his frustration and anger out on her. He hadn't treated her right. He hadn't treated her the way she deserved.

And, she'd taken everything he'd given her as rejection.

Nothing was further from the truth.

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