white button-up shirt to be tempting. The rest of her was small. Dainty. Almost fragile.
When she turned, presenting him with a view of her face, he sucked in his breath. Her bone structure was small. Delicately rendered. High, prominent cheekbones, almost as if she were underweight, and a small chin. But her eyes. Jesus, her eyes. They were enormous in her otherwise small face. A brilliant shade of blue. Shock blue, like looking at ice. They were startling against the jet black of her hair.
She was mesmerizing.
Then she hurried away, her arms straining at the weight of the tray that held all the dishes she’d cleared from the tables. His gaze followed her across the room until she disappeared through the door for the kitchen staff.
“Not your usual fare,” Ash murmured beside him.
Jace broke from his reverie and turned to see that Ash had already finished his dance with Mia. A brief look toward the dance floor told him Gabe had reclaimed Mia and that the two were once more solidly glued together. Mia’s eyes were alight with joy and laughter, and some of his earlier tension eased. She was in good hands. And she was happy.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jace said, an edge to his voice.
“The chick bussing the tables. Saw you checking her out. Hell, you were practically undressing her with your eyes.”
Jace frowned and remained silent.
Ash shrugged. “I’m game. She’s hot.”
“No.”
The denial came out more emphatic than Jace would have liked. He wasn’t even sure where the emphasis came from or why he was suddenly tense.
Ash laughed. “Loosen up. It’s been awhile. I’ll go work my charm.”
“Do not approach her, Ash,” Jace growled.
But Ash had already sauntered away in the direction of the kitchen, leaving Jace standing there, fingers in tight fists at his sides. How the fuck was he supposed to explain to his best friend, a friend he regularly shared women with, that he didn’t want Ash within a mile of this one?
Chapter two
Bethany Willis rubbed her palms down her worn pant legs and briefly closed her eyes, swaying as she stood in front of the basin containing all the empties she’d collected from the ballroom.
She was tired. So damn tired. And hungry. The best part of this gig—besides the fact it was cash paying—was the food. She was allowed to take leftovers, and judging by the amount of food bustling in and out of this place, there was going to be plenty.
Rich people always did things in excess. There was no way the number of people invited to this party justified the amount of food and booze being fronted. She mentally shrugged. At least she’d get a decent meal, even if the stuff was too fancy for her palate.
There’d be enough for Jack too.
A wave of sadness engulfed her and just as quickly, guilt. She had no business feeling this way because Jack had come back around. He did that. Disappeared for days and then reappeared, usually when he needed a place to crash, a friendly face. Food. Money . . . Especially money.
Her chest squeezed because she knew what he did with the money he asked for even as he hated to do so. He never looked her in the eye. Instead he dropped his gaze and he’d say, “Bethy . . . there’s this thing. I need . . .” And it was all he’d say. She gave him money because she couldn’t do anything else. But she hated the way he said “Bethy.” Hated that nickname when it had once been one she adored because it had been given to her by someone who cared for her.
Jack. The only person in the world who’d ever tried to shield her from anything. The only person who’d ever given a damn about her.
Her brother. Not by blood but in every way else it counted. He was hers just like she was his. How was she supposed to ever turn her back on him?
She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
There was a sound at the side door, the one that opened to the alley where the trash was taken out. She glanced up to see Jack leaning against the frame, his head tilted back so he could glance down the alleyway. That was Jack. Always one eye on escape. He never went into any situation unwary and without his escape route planned.
“Bethy,” he said in a quiet voice.
She flinched, knowing why he’d come. She didn’t say anything and instead reached into her pants pocket