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  Ally grinned and walked toward the back. She moved through the kitchen, enjoying the smells of the prep and the hum of activity.

  She’d worked a few jobs before. Before her mom had gotten sick, she’d worked in the local fast food place. That had been pretty nasty, though she’d enjoyed the camaraderie. She’d worked two jobs after high school, saving every dime she’d made for four years. After Ronnie had gone into the service, she’d felt odd about leaving their mom alone for too long. She’d changed over to working part time for the church.

  She pushed out of the back door and took a deep breath. Where had all those years gone? Why couldn’t her mother have passed on before she knew Ronnie was gone? It seemed kinder. But the universe hadn’t shown a hell of a lot of kindness to Ally’s family.

  With a heavy heart, she opened the bin and dumped the trash in. It would be dark soon and time for dinner service. For a few hours she could lose herself in work and not think about all the problems she needed to solve.

  Macon Miles wasn’t who she’d thought he was. Somehow she’d made him a monster in her mind, the one who survived when it should have been Ronnie. He’d taken her brother’s place. She knew in her rational mind that wasn’t fair, but it was how she felt at the time.

  Macon was a big bear of a man. He was also well educated and, if rumors were true, he came from a wealthy family. She’d met his brother. Adam Miles was elegant and well spoken. They were the types of men who married women with college degrees and fancy careers and social connections. Three strikes and she was out. He was exactly the type of man she should shy away from because he would never get serious about a girl like her.

  So why did her eyes trail toward him constantly? What was it about those big, strong hands molding delicate treats that made her daydream about impossible things?

  Macon wasn’t her type. Not even close. She didn’t really have a type now that she thought about it. She’d only dated a couple of guys seriously and they were all willing to look past her shady family history. It wasn’t easy to grow up in a small town where everyone knew about her father’s crimes.

  Ronnie hadn’t cared. She could remember the first and only time she’d tried to run away after Carla Rowe had taken her in. Ronnie had run after her, still in his pajamas. He was a gangly kid. All arms and legs and big sad eyes. Everyone teased the hell out of him, but he’d sworn if she was leaving then he was, too. She was his sister, after all. He couldn’t let her go alone, but he’d asked her to reconsider because the next night was mac and cheese night. He loved mac and cheese.

  Another deep breath quelled the rising tide of emotion. She didn’t need this. Ever since that day in the cemetery, it always seemed close to the surface, as though her subconscious knew that her other tasks were over and now it was time to deal with all that ugliness that lay beneath.

  Well, it wasn’t over. She had to stop dreaming about Macon Miles and find out the truth. If there was one thing she’d learned it was that even the sweetest of surfaces could hide something nasty. Soon she’d have enough money saved to hire the private investigator again and she would try to get the real reports, try to force them to tell the truth.

  She was simply keeping an eye on Miles in the meantime. She wasn’t falling for him. Nope. That would be stupid and she wasn’t stupid.

  She turned, ready to go back to work. Ally gasped as she came up against a hard chest.

  “Hey, I was hoping to catch you alone.” Timothy stared down at her. He was a good half a foot taller than she was. He didn’t move back or give her any space at all.

  She felt the hard metal of the trash bin at her back. God, she hated being crowded. “I need to get back to work.”

  His hand came up, blocking her from moving to her left. “I think they can spare you for a few minutes. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

  He was a perfectly made man with movie star good looks. Tim had fashionably cut blond hair. His face was quite lovely, but she’d always seen the hardness beneath his pretty exterior. He was a man who sneered instead of smiled, who only seemed to find humor at the expense of others. She’d heard him making fun of Macon when he stumbled one day, calling him a one-legged wonder.

  Yeah, she didn’t like Timothy. Her instincts told her to fight. She should push the asshole back and tell him she would rip his balls off if he touched her again.

  But he was important here at Top. He was a European-trained chef and she was an easily replaceable waitress. She was well aware of how the world worked. If he wanted to, he could likely get her fired in a heartbeat. Sean would be sweet about it, but he couldn’t take an unskilled laborer over a man who studied in France. From what she’d heard, he’d given Timothy a nice signing bonus when he’d agreed to work at Top. Sean was invested in this man. She had to be careful.

  She inched to her right. “That’s nice, but some other time. Deena needs me to help out with setup.”

  His other hand came down and she was trapped. “I think she’s fine. She can certainly spare you for a few minutes. I’ve been watching you.”

  Yes, she was well aware. She’d been able to feel his lecherous stare like a spider crawling slowly across her skin. “I can’t imagine why.”

  He moved in closer, until he was close enough for her to smell the liquor on his breath. God, she hated that smell. “I think you can.”

  Her stomach dropped. As much as she liked her job, she wasn’t willing to let this idiot paw her over it. “Not really. I need to go back inside now.”

  He didn’t move an inch. “I think you’ve been sending out signals.”

  Why did guys have to be jerks? “The only signals I’ve been sending out are for you to back off.”

  His lips curled up in that sneer he was always sporting. “So you want to play hard to get? I can understand that as long as you understand that the ending is going to be the same. I’m more than ready for you, sweetheart. Let me have a taste.”

  She was done. It was time to fight her way out. She brought her hands up, pushing against his chest. “Let me go.”

  He pushed back, proving how weak she was. “I will. Once I’ve got what I want.”

  Tears started to blur her vision. She hated this feeling. So weak and useless. Pathetic. “Let me go and I won’t tell Chef what you tried.”

  He chuckled but it was a nasty sound. He pressed his body to hers. “You really think Taggart is going to listen to some two-bit whore over me? You’re a dime a dozen. He can replace you in a heartbeat.”

  She hated that word. What she hated even more was the way some men used their strength against women, as though being bigger gave them rights. She brought her knee up as hard as she could, but she was too close. She caught his thigh and it only seemed to make him madder.

  His right hand tangled in her hair, pulling and making her scalp ache. Pain sizzled along her skin, making her grit her teeth. “You’re going to pay for that, bitch.”

  And then she could breathe again. Timothy was gone in a flash and she heard a strangled shout before her eyes could process what was happening in front of her. She fell back against the Dumpster, only barely managing to stay on her feet.

  Macon was here. He’d pulled Timothy off of her, but it seemed he wasn’t satisfied with breaking them apart. He punched Timothy squarely in the gut and the older man hit the concrete. “You want to pick on someone your own size, asshole? Or do you get your kicks off raping women?”

  Her hands were shaking, her whole body aflame with shock. They weren’t alone in the alley anymore. It seemed like the entire staff of Top had come out to witness her humiliation. Tears poured from her eyes. They would all know what kind of trouble she’d gotten into. They would probably side with the man.

  “The bitch wanted it,” Timothy managed to squawk, holding his gut. “She asked me to come out here for a quickie. I’m going to sue the fuck out of you, you one-legged freak.”

  “Did he really say that?” Eric grinned. He was standing next to one of the line cooks, a big g
uy named Drake.

  Drake shook his head. “I think so. Go on, Macon. Beat the little shit to death with your prosthetic.”

  “He doesn’t need two legs to kill you, asshole,” Eric said. “He could do it with no legs and one hand tied behind his back. I suggest you shut your trap.”

  They weren’t reacting like she’d expected. There were no pitying looks her way. Eric gave her a reassuring smile.

  “Let Macon handle it,” Drake said, nodding her way. “The big guy can take care of this. Don’t you worry.”

  Macon ignored everyone, choosing to put himself between her and Timothy. He didn’t crowd her, didn’t back her into a corner, simply offered himself as a wall against the man who’d tried to hurt her. “You okay?”

  “Yes,” was all she could manage.

  “All right, let’s break this up. We’ve got service in less than two hours.” When Sean Taggart barked an order, every man snapped to attention. She’d heard rumors that Taggart had been a Green Beret. She believed them. The blond god of a man stalked out of the back door, gesturing for everyone to head back inside. He was six foot three, a bit shorter than Macon, but there was no question who was in charge. Chef Taggart had led men into battle.

  He was also probably about to fire her.

  Damn, but she’d liked this job. It wasn’t fair.

  When everyone was gone, he looked down at his pastry chef. Sean stepped up and reached down, giving Timothy a hand up. “Are you all right?”

  At least the crowd was gone. There would only be a couple of people to watch her get fired.

  Timothy’s eyes narrowed as he allowed Sean to help him up. “No, I’m not all right and I have to insist that you fire that asshole. I was taking the girl up on her offer when that meathead came out and went berserk. I want the police out here. I’m having him arrested for assault.”

  Oh, god, she was going to get Macon arrested. She couldn’t stand that thought. He’d tried to help her. “It wasn’t Macon’s fault.”

  Sean turned her way, one brow arched. “Really? Macon didn’t rearrange this guy’s intestines?”

  She shook her head. She had to cover for him. “I did.”

  Macon stepped in front of her again, as though protecting her from both men now. “That’s utterly ridiculous. It was me, boss. He was…”

  Sean held a hand up. “Don’t. I don’t need an explanation.”

  “The cops will,” Timothy said.

  “Yes, and if you call them, I’m going to give them one,” Taggart said before turning around and kicking Timothy squarely in the balls. Timothy groaned and fell back to the ground. Taggart turned back to her. “That is how you kick a guy in the balls, sweetheart. You gotta have a little space between the two of you and then you have to visualize your foot actually going into his body cavity. That way you put some power behind it. Don’t forget that for next time. Miles, you all right?”

  “I’d feel better if he was dead,” Macon admitted.

  Taggart gave him a sure smile. “He’ll wish he was tomorrow.”

  “He’s going to call the cops.” Ally was still shaky. Sometimes cops didn’t believe victims.

  Taggart winked her way and pointed to a security camera placed above the back door. “He can and then he can explain why he was trying to rape an obviously unwilling woman. But he’s not going to call anyone because if he does, I’m going to let Miles here take out his frustrations on him.” Taggart took a knee beside the moaning Timothy. “Because if he tries to call the cops, I’ll show him what we do to assholes who attempt to molest one of my female employees. Here’s a hint. It’s not pretty. We’ll give him a Taggart special. My big brother has been dying to murder someone ever since his club blew up. Miles, take her inside and finish up your prep. I’m going to have an exit interview with this guy. Can you handle a promotion?”

  Macon stilled, as though processing his good fortune. He nodded slowly, but there was a satisfied gleam in his eyes. “I can do it.”

  “Good because that’s the last time I hire some dude from France.” His eyes trailed to her. “Can you handle her? She’s shaky.”

  “Yes, Chef. I’ll take care of her.” Macon reached out a hand.

  She wasn’t getting fired? She wasn’t getting fired. The knowledge seeped into her like a warm blanket. She really should have tried harder. She would have liked to have been the reason Timothy had turned that peculiar shade of purple.

  She looked at that big hand of Macon’s. It was callused and rough and it had defended her. Maybe he’d been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but it seemed like years in the Army and hard work in the civilian world had toughened him up. He wasn’t the guy she’d thought he was.

  “You don’t have to be scared of me, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “Let’s go and I’ll get you a drink and you can settle down. He’s not going to hurt you. No one’s going to hurt you here. Not while I’m around.”

  She put her hand in his and the minute that massive slab of flesh closed over hers, she felt warmer, stronger than before. Safer.

  She followed him inside, her fingers tangling with his.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “That wind is picking up,” Sean said as he stepped out into the alley. “Has anyone checked the weather?”

  Macon hadn’t worked at another restaurant, but he was fairly certain most head chefs didn’t take out the trash. Sean dumped the bag and let the lid close with a crash.

  “We’re under a watch until two a.m. Both tornado and flashfloods.” It wasn’t raining yet, but there was a heaviness to the air he didn’t like. Dinner service was long over and the rest of the staff had done their jobs. It was just him and Taggart and Ally.

  “Okay, let’s clean up and then I’ll come in and do the books tomorrow. I don’t want to risk getting cut off. The road into our neighborhood floods sometimes and I don’t want Grace and Carys alone if we’ve got tornados to worry about.”

  “I’ll do it.” It seemed a shame to make the man come in on his day off when Macon didn’t mind. “I wasn’t doing anything else tonight anyway.”

  Except maybe talking to Ally. Since that moment he’d opened the door and realized she was in trouble, something had taken root in his chest. She needed someone to look out for her. She’d made a single, pitiful attempt to protect herself, but he hadn’t missed how her eyes had slid away after he’d clocked Timothy the Ass. She’d expected to get fired. She’d been surprised when it didn’t work out that way. She would have walked out with her head hung low if Taggart hadn’t proven to be the man he was.

  “Are you sure?” Taggart asked. “Because I was really looking forward to the day off. My stepsons are in town and I’d like to spend some time with them. I would owe you, man.”

  He shrugged. “If it gets really bad, I’ll sleep on the sofa in your office. I’ve slept worse places. And besides, you don’t owe me a thing. I appreciate how you handled Asswipe today.”

  Arms crossed over his big chest. “Yes, about that…I was planning on talking to you. Now seems as good a time as any. That girl is in trouble.”

  Well, Eric had warned him. He’d already made his decision. He’d made it the minute she’d put her trembling hand in his and laced their fingers together. He was an idiot but somehow she’d become his in that moment. “I’ll take care of her.”

  Taggart’s eyes narrowed and Macon was reminded of a dad looking out for his daughter. Taggart gave a damn about his employees. “Really? How much care are we talking about?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not declaring my love for her or anything. I barely know her. I’m attracted to her. It’s not simply physical. I like her. She’s a sweet kid.”

  “She’s twenty-six. She’s not a kid. And she’s got some issues. I think she thought I was going to blame her for the incident.”

  Macon nodded. “Yeah, I caught that, too.”

  “Look, I’ve talked to Adam. I know you’re not completely settled in. If you want, I’ll find a way to take her home with me. S
he can stay in our guest room.”

  What was left unsaid was the fact that she wouldn’t stay there for long. He’d been training at Sanctum for a few months now and even he recognized that Ally would likely enjoy D/s. It was all there in the way she deferred to those around her, the way her eyes slid away the minute someone she admired put some bite in his or her tone. As a long-term Dom, Sean wouldn’t have missed any of that. Sean would introduce her to friends who would pick up on the highly submissive streak she had and before Ally knew it, she would be some well-meaning Dom’s sub, taken care of and protected.

  Fuck that.

  “I said I’ll take care of her.”

  Sean’s lips curled up and he chuckled. “Damn, that’s quite a look on your face. Okay. You’ll take care of her. Let me know if you need anything. And service went well tonight. You did a great job.”

  All his doubt came back, needling him. “I don’t have the education Timothy had.”

  Taggart shook his head. “You’ve got the skill. Practice a lot. Send anything you work on over to my brother’s house. Ever since the twins were born my brother drowns himself in sweets. Seriously, he’s getting fat. Fatherhood is putting a nice spare tire on the old boy. Big Tag is going to mean something totally different soon.”

  Were they talking about the same Ian Taggart? There wasn’t an ounce of fat on that man. He was all muscle and sarcasm from what Macon could tell. Ian was his brother’s favorite sparring partner. They could trade jibes all day long.

  “Will do. I’m really thankful for the opportunity, Chef.”

  Sean put a hand on his arm. “Make the most of it. If you think you’re in over your head, let me know. I’ll be honest, I would rather go with you than find someone else. You’re family. So we’ll cook what you know for a couple of weeks. Practice at home and we’ll expand the menu. We’ve got strawberries coming in Thursday. A big case of them. I’ll expect something good.”

  His mom had a great recipe for strawberry pie and shortcake. He could tweak it, elevate it. He could make a shortbread cookie and whip his own cream with an infusion of vanilla that would truly show off the flavor of the berries.