confused.
“Yes, but do you think I’m going to meet the man vilifying me in a mini and garters?”
LUC watched Alyssa, fixated, the front of his jeans expanding, as she disappeared to the private upper level of Sexy Sirens. His head was spinning.
A double major? And a master’s degree? To say he’d had no idea would be a colossal understatement. He’d suspected that behind the woman’s sharp blue eyes was a lot of intelligence. The ambition surprised him. Business owner or not, that was a lot of education for a stripper.
But now she was also a restaurant owner.
Was Bonheur part of some life change/self-improvement plan? And what about her waitstaff?
Though it chafed him, Luc turned to Tyler. The bouncer stared at the empty stairs, his tongue virtually hanging out of his mouth. Luc knew the bouncer wanted her. Hell, despite Alyssa’s protests, he wouldn’t be surprised if they were lovers. But Tyler’s expression said he admired Alyssa, had feelings for her. Was it mutual?
A sudden pang of jealousy smacked Luc right between his pectorals. He fisted his hands. Could she actually love the mouthy slab of beef?
It didn’t matter. He had questions . . . and Tyler had answers. Whether Tyler and Alyssa were burning up the sheets or having an affair of the heart was none of his concern—even if it bugged the hell out of him.
“Where did Alyssa go to school?”
“Why the fuck do you care?”
Luc shrugged, playing casual. “Curious.”
“LSU, Lafayette campus. She graduated with honors, too. She’s smart in a way that’s so fucking sexy. It’s hard not to think with your dick when she’s around.” Tyler pierced him with a laser stare. “Isn’t that right?”
All too true . . . “And the waitstaff at Bonheur? Are they all in school and elected to wait tables?”
“Most. Every few months, Alyssa gathers the girls to talk about life after the pole. If they want to get an education, she helps them find tuition assistance and apply for scholarships. She encourages them to make more of themselves. A couple of the girls just want to keep better hours so they have more time with their kids.”
Wow . He hadn’t seen the caring side of Alyssa. This news surely brought her into a whole new dimension. “Couldn’t these women make more money stripping and . . . taking customers on the side?”
“Turning tricks?” Tyler raised a brow. “You’re damn lucky Alyssa didn’t hear that. She’d skin you alive and boil you in oil. That shit doesn’t happen here. Period. ’Course she can’t stop a dancer willing to entertain customers after hours and off premises, but she usually ends up firing them since they’re often trouble.”
The answer floored Luc. Educated and principled? Had he failed to see past their scorching sex and her short skirts to the woman underneath?
As much as he hated to admit it, yes.
But did it matter? As much as he wanted her, he couldn’t take her. She wasn’t a mommy candidate. He couldn’t even see her as someone’s wife . Alyssa would be impossible to tame, and Luc wanted a woman who would be content to stay home and focus on children. He didn’t see her as that type.
But her values went deeper than he’d believed. She worked damn hard and deserved a break.
“You said Primpton is out front?”
Tyler smiled tightly. “With all the local press. Someone needs to stop this prick. She doesn’t need him, especially now.”
“Because the restaurant is opening soon?”
“That, and her mother. Alyssa just hasn’t been the same since the woman died.”
Died? “When?”
“Two weeks ago. Damn shame.”
Though they still lived in Florida, and Luc didn’t see his parents often, they talked frequently. He loved them very much and would be devastated if something happened to them. Certainly, he’d be in no shape to open a new business.
“They were close?”
“No.”
Tyler’s answer was both automatic and adamant. And his face said he refused to say any more on
Henry James, Ann Radcliffe, J. Sheridan Le Fanu, Gertrude Atherton