Read Online Books/Novels:

Pile Driver

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Aria Cole

Mila Crawford

Language:
English
Book Information:

Daphne Madden finds herself trying to make ends meet by working at the local bar in the evenings, and picking up extra shifts at the coffee shop during the day. Because of her schedule, it leaves her without much time for luxuries like dating or a social life. When a customer gets handsy with her one night, an unlikely stranger comes to her rescue. It was only supposed to be drinks with his construction crew after a hard day on the job site. But Arkin Broderick finds himself helping a feisty waitress instead. His overwhelming need to protect her leaves him mystified and craving more. Neither of them were looking for love, but like lightning in the darkness, sometimes it shows up when it’s least expected. But no matter how perfect things seem, the past always has a way of coming back and making itself known.

Books by Author:

Aria Cole Books

Mila Crawford Books

Chapter One

Arkin

“Look at the ass on her. I swear if I could just get her alone for five minutes…”

“You’d what?” I took another deep swig of my beer. “Talk her pants off with your charming personality?”

I finished my beer, nodding to the server in question to get our table another round.

“Hey, I boil my ass off in the heat all day. A man needs a girl like that to come home to.” The newest guy on our crew wasn’t leaving me with a stellar first impression. As the foreman, I liked to get to know the guys I worked with, so usually I liked to take them out after work so we could blow off some steam and unwind.

“You gonna take her home to your double wide?” I laughed. “That place is such a fucking mess. A girl like that would take one look at it and run for the hills.”

Josh ignored me, eyes lingering on the curves of the young waitress. “Look at her, bending over for that bottle. She’s giving me a show, boys.”

I only shook my head. I couldn’t stand a guy who wore his stereotype on his sleeve. Cat-calling women wasn’t allowed on my crew—never was, never will be.

“Last round, and we should be heading out—dawn comes early if we want to try to beat the heat tomorrow.” My mind was still fiddling with the details of our latest job, preparing and laying the groundwork for a new business going in on the same block as this fine drinking establishment.

The server approached, our tray of half a dozen beers teetering precariously on her palm. Her eyes were trained on the tray, a look of adorable focus on her face as she weaved through the tables to reach ours. “Here you are, gentlemen.”

She quickly set the beers at the table, scanning us once, eyes lingering on me before she finally asked, “Anything else I can get you?”

I smiled casually, about to thank her for her time and request the check, when Josh, out of nowhere, spat, “Just your phone number, baby.”

Glass shattered on the ground.

Oh no, that motherfucker better have not done something.

The server’s formerly friendly face twisted into one of shock and then shame. She turned, hand sliding across her ass cheek in just the spot I imagined Josh’s big, burly fucking hand had landed.

He was already high-fiving one of the other guys, laughing as she walked away.

And I was already seeing red.

I jumped from my seat, sending the chair clattering across the floor behind me. My hands at his neck, I hauled him out of his seat—because no man would hit another man while he was sitting down—and cracked him across the head.

“You’re off my crew, you filthy fucking pig.” I shoved him down the narrow aisle between the rows of half-drunk customers. “You’d better hope I don’t catch you talkin’ to a woman like that again, or I’ll put your punk ass in the hospital.”

“Fuck you, Arkin. I hate being on your crew anyway,” Josh said as he rubbed his neck, eyes boring a hole into mine before he turned, shoving his way through the doors and walking off into the night.

“So…” One of the other guys lifted a beer to his lips and paused. “Does this make you a feminist now?”

The table hummed silently, the air charged with my irritation. “You have mothers, don’t you? Sisters? You want any asshole treating them like that? Now pardon me, boys. I’ve got to apologize to that young lady on behalf of that animal.”

I left my beer and crew in the dust, beelining through the crowd in search of the embarrassed woman my former employee had just run off.

“Excuse me,” I said with a nod, swerving around another young server before turning down a hallway and catching sight of a pair of red Chuck Taylor sneakers behind a curtain.

I’d recognize those sneakers anywhere.

“Phoning a friend for backup in here?” I snuck behind the curtain, hiding in the old-fashioned phone booth with her. Her eyes were startled and teary as she looked up at me. I dropped the curtain, shrouding us in darkness again, only a sliver of light illuminating her sad, tear-stained cheeks.

“Hey, I can’t tell you how sorry I am about that asshat.”

My words hung heavy between us.

I swallowed, measuring my next words, wishing she’d make this a little easier on me. I didn’t have a lot of experience with things like women and emotions.

“I, uh…” I stumbled for some way I could console her. “I don’t take well to men treating women like that. Not on the job, and not off.” I paused, swallowing down the urge to push a rogue strand of dark hair behind her ear. “I fired him.”

Her eyes slid up to meet mine under heavy eyelashes then. Something about us being crammed up in this little space together had me wanting to…protect her in some way. Shroud her from every fucking idiot in this bar.


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