attention. And, like he is subject to the same temptation, his gaze stalks me. A glance over my shoulder captures him staring at my backside, and a break from wiping a table spies him ogling my cleavage, a special thanks to Bleachers for my painted-on uniform top. Both times I pause, waiting for the moment when he raises his eyes and finds me returning his stare. He doesn't take a page from my playbook and play coy, no, Carter engages—cocking a brow and tipping his beer my way. This visual foreplay exhausts me. Each time he traps my gaze, my thighs clench until they ache. They haven’t worked this hard in a long time.
Unable to put them off, I work up the nerve to approach their table and place my body in their physical sphere instead of giving them head nods across the restaurant. "What time you off?" Finn asks as I pick up the empties from the center of the table.
Carter's head snaps toward Finn, his eyes narrowing. I cock my head, curious. "Why?"
"We're hitting up The Vault when we're done." Humor dances along with Frey's words as he meets Carter's gaze. There's an awful lot of narrowed side-eyes being tossed around at this table.
"You should join us unless you're closing," Finn finishes for his brother, his attention focused on me, as it has been all night.
I straighten and study the four men at the table. Finn and Frey nod with eager faces, Owen shrugs, and Carter chugs the remainder of his beer, his gaze pinned to the flat screen and the game playing.
"Oh, should I?" A chuffed laugh sneaks out of my mouth. The Vault may be a legitimate dance club, but the place is one extra shallow step up from standing on the corner. If someone enters in search of evening companionship, they will find said companionship. There are some decent places to dance outside town. Clean places. "Tempting as that sounds, I'll pass."
The twins' puppy dog frowns pull a smile from me, which seems to be their point. "Aww, lass." Finn's plea falls on my deaf ears.
"I suppose you're ready for your checks?" I ask, retreating from their table when Carter's murmured "fucking hell" jolts me and the twins' smirk.
The muscle in Carter's angular jaw leaps and I consider speaking. Hell, I consider meeting up with them at The Vault to see what happens, but Owen stands and steals my opportunity. "All right, let's leave this poor girl be," he says with a forced laugh while pulling his wallet from his pocket. "One check will do."
I plaster a smile and turn, deflated at the notion of these guys, of Carter, hitting up a club and picking up girls. That's their whole purpose for going. I'm not stupid.
I print their tab and grab a loaded tray of drinks for another server's table, so I cannot linger when I leave the check with Owen. Carter's eyes shift, his lips parting as though he intends to speak, but I nip that in the bud.
"Let me drop these drinks off, and I'll be back for the check." I leave with a high head, cognizant of his stare chasing me across the bar.
"I wondered when you'd stop by and see me," says a deep voice.
Lifting my gaze from the drink tray, I find myself standing beside the human wall from earlier. "Oh, fancy bumping into you," I tease and start calling out beers since I'm unsure who ordered what.
"Jessica Womick, right?" The Wall's fingers wrap around my wrist, keeping me near after setting his amber lager before him. A downfall of having bar height tables putting me on the same level as my customers.
I twist my arm from his grip. A steady pulse thrums behind my eyes at his tone; his voice is equal parts light and menacing. A sound familiar to my ears because men have made a habit of practicing it on me for years, and since I'm the daughter of the town tramp, I suppose the behavior is acceptable now.
"That's me." I conjure up a cheerful grin and assess the occupants around the crowded table while grabbing their empty bottles. Six twenty-something men, each with a broad chest and thick arms. Athlete types. I've spent eighteen plus years around football players, I recognize the kind. "Is that all for you?" I ask, ready to move.
The stockiest of the group snorts. "That's a loaded question." He elbows his buddy beside him, their eyes taking me in from the neck