Killian

by Ryan Michele

  Bri shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “You think he’s in jail?”

  Her head shook. “I have no idea.”

  Keeping a level head like my brother had always told me to do, I pushed back the anxiety trying to creep up. “All we can do is wait. We didn’t do anything, so I don’t know why our asses would be on the line.”

  It was true—we had nothing to do with the bust. With the new day and all the chaos out of my head from last night, I could see it more clearly.

  It still didn’t explain why Killian wanted me in his bed with him. There were many questions I wanted answers to, but alas, they wouldn’t get answered. Last night was a one-time thing. No way I’d be spending the night with him again.

  4

  Ellie

  The bar crowd was great. Drinks were flowing, music playing, and people mingling about. I fed off the energy of a busy night. While sometimes this also led to fights because testosterone-fueled men with a mix of alcohol and women in the audience made for a prime set up to see whose dick was bigger, I still loved a crowd.

  When I was young, my grandpa would bring me here, sit me on a leather-covered stool, and I’d listen as he talked with his friends and poured beer. There was always laughter and music. He loved this placea little too much, according to my mother. She felt her father loved the bar more than her, but she wasn’t there to hear him talk about her.

  I’d listen as he told his friends how great of a mom she was and how he was so proud of her. Once, I tried to tell her, but she blew me off. That was my mom, though. She was set in her ways, and changing her mind about anything was impossible. It was also a reason I didn’t speak to her much. It wasn’t worth the hassle. We weren’t close, but there wasn’t animosity between us either.

  I wanted this place to come alive once again, to hear the laughter and pool sticks making contact with the cue ball before sending another ball into a pocket. Just a bit of happiness for others to let loose. My memories were so strong here, and this place was part of me through and through.

  For seven years, this place had been my home away from home. While it wasn’t true that I loved this place more than the people in my life, it did hold a special place in my heart.

  Trying to bring the bar back from being uninhabited and in foreclosure wasn’t easy. So much time, energy, and tears went into making The Drunken Monkey what it once was. My grandfather’s vision. His life’s work. We had made some serious upgrades to the place, but it held a lot of that old-time bar feel.

  I was proud of this bar.

  Greeting people as I made my way to the back of the bar was a challenge because I knew almost all of them. They wanted to catch up, ask you questions, or just hang out. It was a tight rope to walk with people. To be friendly, but not spend five hours in a conversation about chili. Yes. That could happen and had happened here. Considering cooking was not my strong suit, it was painful.

  Making it to the edge of the bar, a smile crossed my lips. My bartenders were awesome. There was no other way to put it. Aiden was a beautiful brunette who could mix five drinks at once and never miss a beat. The guys loved her, and so did the women for that matter. It had a lot to do with her low-cut shirts. Add in her upbeat personality, and she was a keeper.

  Carter was my showman. He came to Brookeville from Florida where he worked in a bar on the beach. Why he came here and wasn’t on the damn beach I’d never know. I could almost feel the sand between my toes just thinking about it.

  He was so good at the theatrics part of making drinks. He could send a bottle shooting up in the air, catch it behind his back, turn three times all the while picking items up, then stopping and putting the drink together. In all the years I had been slinging drinks, I had to admit Carter was top-notch in skill. He knew the perfect pour to keep the customers happy and the bar making a profit. I had been through enough bartenders early on to know if a barkeep didn’t watch the pour, they could bankrupt the business. Every single drink was a science, and Carter was more than a mad scientist. He was like a circus ringleader, always in control while giving the best show.

  Carter was a sight. Everyone fought for a seat at the bar, just to watch Carter do his thing. The tip jar was always full by the end of the night.

  Nothing better than a register full and people having a good time. Business was good. No, business was great, and I counted my lucky stars for that. I didn’t grow up with money, but with great determination I pulled myself out. I wasn’t rolling in the cash, but I was comfortable. That was all I’d ever wanted. Just to not worry about the bills getting paid and food on the table. Simple.

  Cheers went up as Carter put the finishing touches on the drink and slipped it to an older woman. She handed him some bills while he winked at her, and she blushed different shades of red. Yes, he knew how to work it.

  Lifting up the hinged wood, I made my way behind the bar.

  “Hey, boss lady! How are ya?” Carter yelled over the music.

  “Good. You?”

  He winked, giving me his answer. While I wasn’t a showman like Carter, filling drinks was cathartic. It might have sounded strange, but getting a list of drinks, whipping them up, and setting them out was like a hot bubble bath. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my bubble baths, but doing the drinks centered me.

  Therefore, I got to work.

  The bar was crushed with drink after drink needing to be made. So much so, the hours went by like minutes and the crowd never thinned.

  Behind the bar, I danced to the music and belted out the lyrics to some of my favorite songs from time to time. Singing wasn’t my strong suit, but I couldn’t deny the pull to a good song. It was just a good thing the music was loud enough to drown me out. I didn’t care, though, because my job was fun.

  Life was too short to not have a good time. If you could make money having a good time, it was even better. That was how I felt about this bar. It wasn’t work; it was happiness.

  Around eleven thirty, the night got interesting.

  After filling an order with some of our top shelf whiskey, I turned around and lifted my arm to put it back on the shelf. The entire back of the bar was glass with only a few shelves. Sketched in the glass was The Drunken Monkey logo. I loved it.

  I turned around to the bar and stopped dead. Killian was sitting smack in front of me wearing a cocky grin. It was so damn sexy, I felt my nipples get hard. Thank God for padded bras. He didn’t need to see the evidence of the effect he had on my body.

  Next to him on either side were two other men, both looking at me expectantly almost like they knew me, but I hadn’t met either one before. Somehow with the men in front of me, the bar felt small. Like they swallowed the expanse of the place.

  “Hey,” I said, moving up to the bar and shaking off the power they all seemed to carry. I wasn’t a woman who easily rattled, hot men or not. “What can I get ya?”

  Those sapphire eyes pinned me to the spot, and I felt it like a physical blow. His gaze had an intensity that locked me in place. It took me a moment to shake myself out it.

  Pull yourself together, woman!

  As if sensing my thoughts, his grin widened, and it was a sight to see. The right side tipped before the left, and he gave the subtlest hint of his teeth as he smirked. Why did he have to be so damn hot? Why couldn’t he just come back looking like hell? And how in the hell did he know what I was thinking?

  “Bud,” said the man with sandy blond hair to Killian’s left.

  “Bud Light,” said the man on the opposite side with close cut brown hair.

  I lifted my chin to each, letting them know I heard them. I could feel Killian’s steady gaze assessing me. His eyes almost danced under the lights in the bar. I couldn’t help but wonder what was on his mind. On one hand, I didn’t like him trying to get a read on me, but on the other, there was this strange connection I’d had with Killian since forever. As hard as I may try, he always seemed to get me without any words. Whatever conclusion he came up with must’ve ma
de him good because he said, “Miller Light.”

  With the same chin lift, I turned to my task, pulling the bottles from the cooler and popping the tops. Setting the bottles on the bar, I added up the total and gave it to them. Killian said the three words I wasn’t expecting. “Start a tab.”

  This meant he was planning on staying a while. Under normal circumstances, this would not deter me from my tasks. However, the last twenty-four hours had been far from normal.

  Great. Just great. I couldn’t think clearly with him here.

  “Card.” I held out my hand as he reached in his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and gave me his credit card.

  I leaned in. “Thanks. There’s this kickass purse I’ve been looking at. It’s only five hundred dollars. You can afford that, right?”

  This was a total and complete lie. Never. Never would I spend five hundred dollars on a purse. More power to the people who would, but growing up the way I did, no thank you. I’d rather have that money sitting in my bank account or my house for a rainy day.

  To my surprise, he shrugged. “Whatever you want, beautiful.”

  Wait. What? Why on earth would he say that? Beautiful? Was he serious?

  “You tell women that, you’ll have them all stealing your credit card and buying everything they can get their hands on.”

  He chuckled, taking a swing of his beer then setting the bottle down. I waited with bated breath for the comeback, the reply. Except he kept his deep sapphire eyes locked on mine, and I felt my body temperature rise. Fighting the passion climbing inside me, I diverted my gaze to his cheeks, then his chin, and then to his neck as he took another pull of the beer. My eyes lingered a bit too long on his throat while he did this. It was sexy as all hell, and it made me want to taste that skin right by his Adam’s apple. There was something about the taste and smell of a man’s neck that turned me on tremendously.

  Killian crooked his finger at me, and as much as I wanted to tell him to fuck off—who the hell crooks a finger at a woman expecting them to come—I was too curious about what he had to say, so I did.

  “Only you get that shot.” His words sent a shot right to my core. The rasp in his voice, the underlying promise, and something I couldn’t quite discern had me frazzled to say the least.

  Mentally shaking my head, I got my wits about me again. I pulled away, rolling my eyes. He was so full of shit. No man gave any woman he wasn’t married to that kind of power.

  Dozens of women were sizing up the three men. Good, maybe this would occupy the men and give me the freedom from Killian’s scrutiny to catch my breath. Each of them would have a barfly on their knees in a second; if they so desired, that was.

  Giving him the universal answer of, “Whatever,” I turned around and set up the credit card for his tab. I may have taken a bit longer than needed, but that was only to get my shield in place. Killian apparently had this way of getting under my skin, and it needed to stop. Now.

  What I didn’t expect was for him to be staring directly at me when I turned back to the bar. His friends were talking to several women, but Killian wasn’t. No, he was locked on me.

  Marybeth, a waitress, brought up an order, and I grabbed the ticket and started to fill the orders. While Killian and I should probably talk about last night, it wasn’t going to happen. And it most certainly wouldn’t be happening here in my place of business. I needed to keep at it, stay distracted, and work. It was better to just chalk it up to a crazy night and let everything go rather than continue to throw fuel on the blaze heating up between us.

  “Ellie,” was called, and I knew it was Killian instantly. His baritone was seared on my brain and made my body alight.

  “Yeah,” I answered, keeping my head down and continuing to do my job. It was weird having him here. Sure we’d spent the night together, but to have him show up here was odd. But it wasn’t like me to not make idle chitchat. I talked to everyone who came in.

  “Ellie.” Killian's demanding tone had my eyes lifting. “Come here,” he ordered, and my eyes narrowed. He was going back to that macho shit he pulled last night. Uh-huh, no way.

  “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not a dog that will do as you command.”

  “Ellie,” he growled, and I felt it low in my core.

  After filling my drinks, I moved down to the end and asked, “Need another?”

  It was his turn to narrow his eyes at me. “No.” I shrugged, making a move to leave, except he reached over and grabbed my arm, stilling me. I looked to his hand and then to him, nonverbally telling him to let me go. He, of course, didn’t.

  “What?” I clipped, more bite behind the word than I’d intended, but what the fuck? He didn’t need to put his hands on me. Even if they were warm and strong.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked bizarrely.

  “Go? What do you mean?”

  His head nodded to Aiden and Carter, then back to me. “These two have it. Time to come home.” The casual way in which he said home almost had me taking pause.

  Instead, I laughed. It came out so hard my gut shook, almost doubling me over. He’d seriously lost his mind. One night was more than enough of his tough guy attitude.

  “Not happening.”

  “Then your house?” he said.

  “Hell no!” Where the hell did he got off thinking I was his business? I wasn’t. He ditched me this morning as fast as he could. Now he wanted me to sleep with him again. I had never been big on playing games, and I wasn’t about to start now.

  He chuckled deep and throaty. “You choose, but you’re next to me tonight.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Like I told you last night. I want you by me.”

  “So you can keep me safe?” He said nothing in response, and I waved my hand out to the crowd. “As you can see, I’m perfectly safe here.”

  “Choose, Ellie.”

  “Neither.”

  “Not an option.”

  “Why don’t you turn around and ask the dozens of women behind you. I’m sure they’d jump at the chance to be in your bed.” It was a bit of a low blow, but not horrible. I didn’t feel bad for it, yet part of me hoped like hell he didn’t turn around and do it. It was one thing to be in his bed. Another to hear about other women in his bed.

  “They aren’t you.”

  I looked up to the ceiling, but it had no answers for me. Running my hand through my hair, it all fell down my back in thick waves. “Look. I’m not sure what you’re playing at here, but let’s just forget last night and go with it didn’t happen.” Or try. I probably wouldn’t forget the feel of his body against me any time soon, and sleeping with him tonight wasn’t going to happen.

  “Baby, no matter how hard you try to forget, it won’t happen.”

  What a cocky asshole. Even if he was telling the truth, I’d never admit it.

  Growling wasn’t a sound I made often, but in this case, it ripped. “You…”

  A knock came from the end of the bar where Marybeth was holding up a piece of paper with orders. I held up a finger to tell her to give me a second and turned back to the aggravating man in front of me.

  “Killian, it’s not happening. Once was enough. I don’t like demanding assholes.” The force of the words didn’t faze him. He smiled. I did not and took off to make the drinks.

  Two hours later, I was actually ready to go home. Killian had stayed on that stool for about an hour and a half before leaving. I felt his eyes on me everywhere I turned. Aiden worked on his drinks, and I had hoped he’d take the damn hint. I thought maybe I had won this round with Killian Graham, but then again, I wasn’t exactly confident I could ever win anything with him.

  When the door closed behind him, the tension in my shoulders instantly relaxed. He was a very hard man to say no to. Not only because he wouldn’t let you, but because he had this magnetism that screamed for me to get closer to him. It was such a contradiction, and I needed to keep my headspace in check around him. So him finally leaving was a win. A wi
n I was going to take and hold onto with everything I had.

  Why did I have this feeling I’d be seeing a lot more of this man, though? And why was part of me excited to do so?

  5

  Ellie

  Flipping on the lights, my entry and living room came to life. Growing up, we didn’t have a lot of money to spend on things we didn’t need. I remembered my mom always asking me Is it a need or a want? whenever I asked for anything.

  Shoes were a need, but the sixty-dollar pair was a want, and I practiced that philosophy today. Don’t get me wrong, I still bought what I wanted, when I wanted. But in the back of my head I always made a conscious effort to think about the purchase.

  It was one skill my mother gave me that actually had an impact on my life, which was surprising.

  My childhood also meant I shut off every single light every time I left home. No need to waste the power and run up the bill. I was religious about turning off the light if I left a room, so the living room light wouldn’t be on for an extended period of time because I was more than ready to climb into bed. Porch lights didn’t get used either because why spend the extra when I knew how to unlock a door in the dark. Therefore, I entered my house in the pitch black before hitting that switch at the entry. Tossing my bag down on the kitchen table, I flipped on the lights in there too.

  My home wasn’t a grand showplace because I didn’t need or want that. It had two bedrooms, two baths, kitchen, living room, laundry room, basement and garage. It wasn’t one of those tiny homes you'd see on television or Amazon. Did you know they sold those things on there? Crazy, huh? But yeah, it was bigger than those. Only it wasn’t overly large either. In fact, I dared to say it was absolutely the perfect house for this time in my life.

  Cooking wasn’t really my thing. I could take it or leave it, and most of the time a quick burger at the bar did the trick. My kitchen had white cabinets on top while the bottom ones were painted an eggshell blue. The countertops were Formica, light cream, and in good repair. The appliances came with the place when I bought it. I scrubbed them like crazy and used them to this day.