I took a quick glance at my neighbor. “You haven’t touched anything on your plate,” I said to her, grabbing the only opportunity I might have to talk to her where Dutch wasn’t up my ass.
Her hands were balled into little fists, and she looked up in surprise, like she hadn’t even realized I was there. “Oh. You’re right,” she said, shaking some gorgeous long hair out of her eyes.
She picked up her fork and pushed scrambled eggs around on her plate. She still didn’t eat anything though, and deep inside a little part of me started to feel uneasy. I knew that faraway look her eyes wore, and it wasn’t there because something nice had happened.
Something was off.
“Miss, I don’t mean to be intrusive, but you look like… well, you look like something’s not okay.”
That was putting it mildly. She looked like she was about to go ballistic.
I guess I’d struck a nerve. Her back straightened and she looked around with wide eyes. Her fork fell out of her hand and tumbled to the ground with a loud clatter, causing her to jump.
She shook her head. Rubbing her temples, she nearly whimpered.
Okay, all was not well in this woman’s world.
“Here, you can have my fork. I didn’t use it, burgers are not fork food.” I said, handing her mine while trying to keep it light.
She looked up at me gratefully, and warning lights again went off in my head. How long had it been since someone had done something nice for her? Cripes.
And those eyes. Her gaze locked with mine, like she was desperately wanting to tell me something. I wasn’t sure what, but my cock twitched hello, too.
Down boy. This was not the time for him to be interfering. I’d cockblock myself if I had to.
She looked back at her plate, and then back up at me, as if she were trying to screw up the courage to say something.
Taking a deep breath, she spoke tentatively. “Um, I hope you don’t mind, but I overheard you and your friend talking. That you needed a housekeeper?”
“Oh. Yeah. You know someone? You can’t be asking for yourself. What do you do?” I asked. She definitely did not look like someone who cleaned houses. Her hands were soft, and her nails, while short and neat, were painted a perfect red.
I pegged her for a—
“Nurse. I'm actually a nurse. But I’m interested in your housekeeper position,” she said.
“What? Why?”
That sounded rude but I couldn’t help myself. She wanted to clean my house?
Actually, that didn’t sound half bad.
I could picture her running around in a little maid’s costume, bending over to dust off my—
There was a tap on my shoulder.
“C’mon,” Dutch said. “We gotta hit the road.”
Of course. I gave him the stink eye as I slid off my stool. “I know, Dutch. But hey, this lovely lady right here is interested in our housekeeping position.”
I pulled out some cash to cover both our bills, and laid it on the counter.
“My treat?”
Big player I was, spending a whopping ten bucks. Woo-hoo.
She smiled weakly, and looked at Dutch. “I overheard you guys talking. Hope you don’t mind. I’m um, looking for a new gig.”
She forced a pathetic little smile, and I swear it nearly broke my heart.
Dutch, on the other hand, looked her up and down. “Really? You want to clean for us? You don’t get paid much, pocket change really, but you do get free room and board, and our place is awesome.”
Her eyes widened, and I swear her face lit up in a heart-stopping smile. “Oh, yes, I’ll do it. That sounds great!”
Great? There was nothing great about cleaning up after four mountain men. In fact, I think you’d have to be an idiot to sign up for such a shit job, regardless of free room and board and nice views. When Dutch said pocket change, he wasn’t lying. Like, enough to buy lunch at this diner once a week sort of money.
“Well, cool. I’ll give you our number and we can set up a time to talk next week.” Dutch took a pen out of his pocket and began to scribble on a napkin.
She shook her head, frowning. “Oh, I can start right away.”
“Don’t you have to, you know, go home and pack or something?” I asked.
She looked to the end of the counter and then back to us. “Nope. Ready to go.”
At this point, alarm bells were going off in my head. Time to find out what the hell was up. I stepped close to her and lowered my voice. “All right. What’s your name?”
She looked up at me with those damnably beautiful green, pleading eyes. “Mari.”
“Okay, Mari. I’m Christian. This is Dutch. Now that we’ve been introduced, I want to say it’s clear that you’ve got some shit you’re dealing with. Care to tell us what it is?”
She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Yeah, right.
I hardened my voice a little, not mean but stern. “You’re nervous as hell, you keep looking towards the end of the counter, and you are ready to jump in a car with two strangers and go home with them. That isn’t normal.”
Her bottom lip shook. “Okay. Okay. See the guy at the end of the counter? The one with the backwards cap?”
The guy who kept looking over at us, with a pistol clearly stuffed down the back of his jeans? I’d been watching him since we’d walked the door. The motherfucker was clearly up to no good. “Yeah.”
Mari swallowed. “He’s trying to kill me.”
