Page 8 of Dodge

Back in the main room, he stripped completely. He always slept naked and preferred to go commando during the day. The sofa didn’t fit his large frame, and he struggled to find a comfortable position.

His head berated him over and over about letting Mallory into the small apartment. He supposed he could leave her there and go to the Lair for the night. The Lair was the Dragon Runners’ compound and clubhouse. As a full patched member, he had a room for his personal use and stayed there whenever he wanted. But it was late, his eyes were gritted with fatigue, and he didn’t want to ride that far. Plus, he didn’t trust Mallory not to snoop through his stuff and take something. She had before.

He punched the pillow and shifted on his back to stare at the ceiling. Fuck, why did I let her in?The plain white sheetrock had no answers. He finally fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

He wokeup in the dark to a mouth wrapped around his hard cock, sucking him deep. Teeth, tongue, and lips all worked together, seeking the most sensitive part of his head. A hand cupped and expertly massaged his balls. He barely made out the woman’s head bobbing over his middle. A flash of Fauna’s beautiful face appeared in his half-awake brain, and he groaned out loud at the pleasure building between his legs. His cock swelled larger as he got closer and closer to climax. Fuck, it felt so damn good, and it had been so long! His balls tightened and his lower spine sparked in brief warning that he was about to blow.

He reached a hand to the head working him. “I’m coming, sweet—”

Dry straw crisped under his fingers, not the springy soft curls he was expecting.

His mind was fully awake now. Mallory. Not Fauna.

But he was too far gone to stop. She took him to the back of her throat, and he let loose, shooting hard, crying out in pleasure and frustration. She swallowed everything he gave her, sucking him dry. He was wrung out limp when she finally released him.

He stayed silent. She draped herself across him, snuggling in, and his arms automatically closed around her. “Love you, baby. It’s so good to be home.” Her sleepy voice faded. “I’m gonna make it right this time. Promise.”

Dodge lay there under her lax body, her small breasts pressing into his chest. He was uncomfortable as hell, but if he moved, he would end up dumping her on the floor. Some men might do that. He couldn’t.

He stretched out his arm and snagged his phone. With Mallory lightly snoring, face down on top of him, he scrolled through his pictures until he got to the one of Fauna.

For several seconds he stared at it, his head full of regret.

“Let’s just consider this to be a fond memory of the one that got away, yeah?”

He closed his eyes, his mind filled with wishes that would never come true. He sensed a familiar tightening in his chest as if chains locked around him.

Then he pressed Delete.

CHAPTER4

“I have an idea for you.What do you think about owning your own place?” Anita sprayed and wiped off the dresser. She tossed her cleaning rag into the plastic bag to join the others. The door was open to the bathroom where I was working, and we conversed as we cleaned.

I tapped the brush on the edge of the toilet and flushed. “Not much. Why?”

“You met my sister, Connie, right? She and her boyfriend were talking the other night about some restaurant for sale he used to go to over in Bryson City. Some old woman owned it, but she’s in a nursing home, and none of the kids are interested in keeping it. Apparently, it’s been all but abandoned, and the family just wants it sold. Sounds to me like they’d take whatever offer they got to be rid of it.”

I dumped blue powder into the sink and started scouring the built-up toothpaste globs at the bottom. “What is it? Some little greasy spoon that serves burgers and hot dogs to tourists?”

Anita plugged in the vacuum. “Does it matter? If it’s your place, you can do whatever you want, right?”

I turned on the faucet and watched the mess gurgle away down the drain as Anita moved into the bedroom with the heavy machine.

“Think about it, chica.What else you got going here? Thatpendejoyou were living with has spread it around the city that you’re trouble. You’ve applied everywhere, and no one is calling you back. Even if someone hired you, I think you’d still be in the same spot—a secondary chef no one will take seriously.” Her ponytail whipped back and forth as she sighed and shook her head. “As far as women have come this century, there are still some places that judge you by what’s between your legs instead of what’s in your brain.”

She fired up the machine, and the noise negated any more conversation. Anita and her sister, Connie Martinez, were two Mexican American women who had their own housecleaning business. I’d met them at the Omni when they were hired as independent contractors once when the hotel had a worker shortage. Anita’s constant sunny outlook and positive energy drew everyone in around her, and she gave me a lot of support as Chase and I went through our rough patches. After the contract ended, we stayed in touch, becoming fast friends. When I left the condo with all my stuff, Anita was the first person I called. Her immediate response was to let me stay with her and Connie. Connie spent most of her free time with the boyfriend I’d never met, so I stayed in her room for now.

They were great house cleaners with a solid reputation. They had a small army of workers to take care of their many private clients and still had a waiting list. I helped since I’d been staying with Anita rent free for the past few weeks, but this was not my calling. Eventually, I would have to make a decision and move on.

I wiped off the granite countertop as thoughts crowded my mind.Own my own restaurant? Running an established kitchen as a chef is a lot of work. Turning one around is even more. Building one from scratch? I can only imagine it would own my life. Front of house, servers, sous chefs, maybe a bartender, and then there’s the menu, purchasing the supplies, equipment, decor, ingredients—it’s endless.“What’s the name of the place? Do you know?”

Anita grinned and yelled over the vacuum’s noise, “No, but it can’t be that hard to find.”

We did four houses, and by the time we got back to Anita and Connie’s place, I was ready for a shower and bed. They tried to talk me into going out to a bar for drinks and dancing, but I waved them off. Those two had more energy than I could keep up with. I wasn’t in bad shape, and perhaps I might have mustered up the stamina, but I needed some alone time to think.

It’s funny how cleaning houses all day made me feel dirty. After my shower, I put on my favorite panties and an old tank top and settled on Connie’s queen-size bed. I opened my laptop and googled restaurants for sale in Bryson City. A listing and picture for The Diner popped up. That was it. The Diner. No website or menu. Yelp had a generic listing for it, stating it was indeed a burger, sandwich, and hot dog kind of place. The three reviews were old and lukewarm but not disparaging. I figured that was both a plus and a minus. Not enough customers to leave bad remarks for a poor rating, but the point was just that—not enough customers.

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