The Way to Steel

PAXTON

Too slutty?

Nah.

I had on a maroon, thigh-length T-shirt dress that crisscrossed down into a low-cut V-neck. I paired it with velvety black knee-high boots, grabbed my purse, and headed downstairs.

Daddy peeled his eyes from the blaring TV screen to glance in my direction. “And where are you off to?” he queried.

“A date.” I could see the veins in his neck throbbing a violent purple.

“With who?”

As much as I wanted to torture him by saying that seductively dangerous biker’s name, I fessed up.

“Oleander MacDermot, from high school.”

He sighed with relief as he relaxed his eyes back onto the screen.

If he only knew what was happening tomorrow...

“He’s a nice kid,” he said matter-of-factly.

Yep. Plain, boring, depressing as fuck. Connor had a point.

I was halfway out the door when Daddy caught me mid-departure. “Your mother and I were wondering how long you’re gonna stay?”

My eyes narrowed in on him. “Sick of me already?”

“Honey, we just wanna know what’s going on with you,” Mamma chimed in. “Do you need money?”

I sighed. “Look, I don’t know how long I’ll be here or what the fuck I’m doing with my life. I have a little money left from the sale of my house—”

“You had a house? Why did you sell it?” The shock echoed in his voice.

“Because I bought it with my ex-fiancé, Evan, and I left him, so I let him buy me out for a fraction of what I paid in to get my name off all the paperwork. And I lost my job because my boss’s husband made a pass at me and I told her, so she ruined my career. All of my so-called friends hate me, and I still can’t manage to put the pieces of my shattered life back together. Need any more info?”

I sounded annoyed, but it actually felt good to finally get some of that burden off my chest.

Truth was I was still pissed off. I was pissed at Nadia, my ex-boss, who’d been by my side through thick and thin since my freshman year of college. I was even a bridesmaid at her wedding.

Her husband had always made small advances toward me, like pretending to accidentally brush my ass when he moved past me to the fridge. But this had been different.

When someone pins me against the wall, gropes my breasts, and pushes his erect pencil dick against me, you better believe I’m going to call them out.

I told her gently in private, and she publicly dismissed me, as did everyone else I’d known.

It took a lifetime of hard work and dedication to build your reputation and just seconds to have it taken away. I had been tossed out of my own world, broken and humiliated.

“Oh, baby,” Mom muttered, on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Dad added.

As if saved by the bell...or the car horn, a white pickup entered the driveway. “Anyway, that’s Ollie. Feel free to kick me out whenever.” I bounded outside and jumped into Ollie’s truck.

As Ollie reversed, Daddy came through the front door and motioned for me to roll down the window.

I complied, not knowing what to expect.

“I’m truly sorry, Paxton-Rose,” he said. “This will always be your home, always.”

Much to my surprise, I was genuinely touched. I could see the sincerity in his eyes but still felt conflicted. I could never forget or forgive what he’d done to me and Mamma.

Walking in on him with that woman forever upended what I thought home and family meant.

Ollie jumped on the awkward silence, “Don’t worry, she’s safe with me, Sheriff.”

And with that, he shifted gears and zoomed away from my white-picket-fence nightmare.

At least Ollie was in a good mood.

“Darlin’, you look beautiful,” he chimed.

All I could do was feebly smile as he reached into the back seat and handed me a bouquet of roses.

I hated flowers.

I hated the fact they shriveled up and died after a few days.

I hated that they reminded me of death and how men thought this was the way to a woman’s heart.

I dismissively placed them on my lap and was only too happy to get out of the car and leave them behind, unceremoniously.

Before we left the car, I’d taken one last glance in the side mirror to check my makeup when, lo and behold, I saw three gleaming motorcycles roll into the restaurant parking lot, one ridden by Connor Steel.

Oh my God…he didn’t...

When he parked, he made no attempt to hide the fact that he was staring right at me.

The way he looked at me with his piercing eyes made me feel giddy. This was no coincidence.

As the blood rushed to my cheeks, I turned away from my date so he wouldn’t see me smile.

Ollie scowled at them as he escorted me inside the quaint Italian restaurant. We were seated at a table for two when Connor and his biker crew walked in and grabbed seats at the bar, not far from our table.

His gaze never wavered.

I had to admit I found his boldness more than arousing.

Ollie noticed Connor and his boys watching us too. I could tell by his continual shifting that he was growing increasingly uncomfortable.

“Ollie, just ignore them,” I gently guided. “What do you feel like eating?”

“Well, I was thinkin’ about the mussels. I hear they’re an aphrodisiac,” he said with a grin.

I wanted to throw up in my mouth.

“Actually, I’m allergic to shellfish,” I replied, foiling his seduction tactic.

As Ollie continued listing off our choice of entrees, I saw a bowtie-clad bartender hesitantly approach the group of men in leather jackets.

“Hi, y’all. What can I get you?” he asked as he set out coasters in front of the out-of-place patrons.

“Three Jacks on the rocks,” Connor replied nonchalantly.

I continued to stare at Connor as the bartender poured drinks.

Connor coolly sipped his liquor, watching me as if undressing me with his eyes. At least, that was what it felt like...

It was what I was doing to him.

It was only then that I noticed Ollie had been talking.

“What?” I replied innocently.

“I said ya looked real nice tonight,” he replied.

“Oh...uh. Thank you,” I said, fully aware I was still being watched.

“So how ’bout the chicken?”

“Chicken,” Connor scoffed under his breath. “I’ll have the yellow-bellied pesto,” he said mockingly to his boys, who laughed.

Ollie heard the jab and was quickly losing his confidence.

“Chicken sounds good,” I said, trying to reassure him.

“Great. Two chicken risottos please, darlin’,” he ordered from the waitress I hadn’t noticed standing there.

We sat there in awkward silence while I kept furtively glancing toward Connor and his two companions.

Seriously, Pax! Concentrate… you’re on a date with Ollie.

It was like having an angel and devil in the same room. The angel in front of me and the steel-eyed devil tempting me from nearby.

“So, darlin’, those tattoos?” Ollie began. “Do they have any significance?”

“Well, I was actually in a really bad fire a few years back. I saved a mother and child from a burning building and decided to cover the scars with ink.”

He fumbled in shock. “Oh my God, really? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Ollie, I’m just fucking with you ’cause we’re friends. Relax.”

“Friends… right,” he said grumpily.

“I just got one tattoo in college, liked it, and kept getting them.”

Jeez, the banter definitely isn’t strong in this one.

The rest of the evening didn’t pan out much better. Ollie continued to try to make small talk but just kept stumbling over his words, obviously wary of our audience, who were now sitting at a table near us.

While I couldn’t help feeling thrilled at Connor’s presence, I was starting to feel really bad for Ollie. So I excused myself and made my way toward the ladies’ room, motioning for Connor to walk his well-defined ass in my direction.

He strode over with a shit-eating grin on his face. When he was near, I grabbed his jacket and pulled him into the restroom, bolting the door behind us.

“Are we gonna fuck now?” He smirked. “I’ve never gotten laid on someone else’s date before.”

‘Don’t you have anything better to do than torment poor Ollie?”

He laughed. “Oh come on—”

“No, you need to go home. It was funny at first, but now you’re just being cruel.”

“All right all right, we were just having a little bit of fun—”

“Fun? You intimidated him on purpose and are being an absolute jerk about it. If you keep pulling this shit, you kiss our date tomorrow goodbye.”

“Whoa! Who said anything about kissing? I just met you!” he said with a grin. It took every inch of willpower I had to not smile back.

“I’m serious.” I glared.

“Say no more.” He then walked to the door and unbolted the lock. “Enjoy your dry toast,” he said with a smile as he made his exit.

God he was gorgeous.

***

Two games of bowling later and it was time to end this date.

“I’m glad yer back,” Ollie said as he parked in front of my house.

“I’m not back back. I won’t be here for much longer,” I confessed.

“Why would you wanna leave?” he said, seeming genuinely hurt.

“Because this town isn’t for me. I don’t want to be stuck living some mediocre life. It’s one of the reasons I left in the first place.”

“It wouldn’t be mediocre if you had the right person in your life,” he said, edging toward me.

“Ollie you’re a great guy, but I don’t think we’re right...for each other. Thanks for the dinner. I had a nice time,” I said, exiting his truck.

“You think Connor’s right for ya?” he asked, getting out and following behind. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Paxton. Like you’re something to eat. Half our night was ruined because of his lot. I saw the way your eyes kept drifting to him.”

Shit.

I’d been called out, and now I was feeling guilty.

He walked up to me with a tender look in his eyes.

“Paxton I’d never hurt you, or make you cry, or cheat on ya. I am the type of man you deserve, not some ex-con. I like ya. For everythin’ you are. I really do.”

He leaned in for the kiss, but immediately, I dodged it.

He looked beaten as he pulled away. I felt awful, but could I really learn to love someone like Ollie?

“Go out with me tomorrow night?”

“I can’t, Ollie, I’m sorry.” And I really was sorry.

“Just consider me, okay? Know that I’ll be here whenever ya need me.”

I felt awful about ending things on this note. He really was a sweet guy. “Maybe… maybe we can go out again another time?”

“Later this week?” he prodded hopefully. I nodded my head in agreement, and with one final smile, he hopped back into his truck and drove away.

He was probably right. I could be happy with someone like him if I tried.

He was the epitome of stability. He could give me the house at the end of a cul-de-sac, the white picket fence, the two-point-five kids…the picture-perfect family that every girl wanted, right?

But every time I thought of giving Ollie a chance, an image of Connor would loom in my head. How wrong he was for me, how dangerous.

But I was undeniably attracted to him and felt a strong pull toward his raw magnetism.

Damn Connor and his hunky biker thing.

Ollie or Connor? Some ordinary, but reliable dry toast? Or rich, dark chocolate that soaked through to the core, so deliciously wrong that maybe…

Just maybe it was right?