Free Riding the Thunder by Deborah MacGillivray Page B

strolled over, placing an empty tray on the stack at the end of the counter. She flashed a fake smile and through her teeth said, “Jerk alert.” Going to the fountain, she drew a Big Red and then grabbed a Snickers bar. “I’m taking my break. Let Rhonda earn her keep.” With that, she retreated into Asha’s darkened office.
    â€œHow about some service?” Faulkner growled.
    Rhonda tended to ignore people that dared seat themselves. With a perfect arched eyebrow, she glanced at Asha and frowned in distaste. Asha gave her a faint nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rhonda went to take his order.
    Asha glanced at Jago. He caught her staring and winked. When she pretended to ignore him, he leaned over to the jukebox’s wallette and flipped through the selector. Pulling change from his pocket, he dropped a quarter in the coin slot and pushed the red buttons. The room filled with the slow sexy sound of the Shirelles’“Baby It’s You.” “
It’s not the way you smile that touched my heart
. . .”
    Asha’s heart slowed to a deep thud that seemed to match the beat of the golden oldie. She was barely able to ring up the next check and set up the charge card. So caught in Jago’s net, she jumped when Faulkner tossed his water glass across the room.
    â€œWhat the
hell
is this?” he roared.
    Asha started toward the table; however, Liam beat her there. “You got a problem,
Mont-a-gue?
” Placing both hands on the table, her brother leaned forward and glared.
    Faulkner’s face turned a motley red. “Someone put salt in the damn ice water!”
    â€œLiam.” Asha touched his elbow softly. After a second, her brother stepped back with a faint nod, recognizing she was the owner of the restaurant, not him, and thus it was her right to handle the problem. “Mr. Faulkner, is there some trouble?”
    â€œSalt! Someone spiked the ice water with salt!”
    â€œI saw Rhonda draw the water. She didn’t put anything in it. No one but you has touched it since,” Asha informed him in an even tone.
    â€œYou telling me that
I
put the salt in the water?” he snarled. He started to rise from his seat, hesitating as his eyes flicked to Liam standing behind her, and then to Jago, who materialized at her elbow. Sam stuck his head out the swinging door, a heavy metal spatula in his hand. Ashasighed. Men and their time-honored code of protecting their women.
    â€œI didn’t put salt in my own damn water,” Monty insisted. Asha spread her hands in the air. “I didn’t accuse you of that, but since you broke the glass I cannot check it now. I’ll bring you another.”
    â€œThere better not be salt in it,” he threatened.
    Asha calmly got a glass of ice water and set it before him.
    In a flashback to that bloody crocodile, the disturbing man moved before she could blink. Deceptively fast for a man whose debauchery had taken its toll upon his body, his hand caught her wrist in a vise grip. “You won’t always have those young bucks standing behind you, missy. Remember that.”
    Asha met his eyes lacking any spark of humanity, only that air of a predator that killed because that was how he was created. “You don’t scare me, Mr. Faulkner. I carry a Colt Python. You ever come near me, I’ll start with your knees and shoot my way up without hesitation.” For emphasis she smiled, formed her right finger and thumb into a gun and shot him.
    â€œLet go of the lady—
now
,” Jago growled from behind her.
    A surly look crossed Faulkner’s eyes, but Asha saw he was backing down. Bullies always did when they couldn’t shove people around. They were only strong when they had someone weaker at their mercy. The man swallowed hard.
    Faulkner bluffed it by rising in the booth. “Or you’ll what,
Fancy Pants
?”
    Suddenly, the jukebox turned on and Ray Peterson’s voice sang