“Hey, so how’d it go with Lexi?”
My eyebrows rise. “You know her?”
“Sure, they come in here all the time.”
“Ah,” I mutter under my breath because it hits me that if they were here right now he wouldn’t have said that. He’d have told me instead:
Sure they’re right over there.
They’re right behind you.
She’s wondering where you are.
“So, how’d it go? She just have you give her a ride home?”
I cock an eyebrow, interested in the fact that Ralphie didn’t assume I slept with her. Good sign. It means she’s not normally taking guys home.
“Yeah,” I shrug, “I just drove her back to her place. Made him think she was coming home with me to get him jealous.”
“Man, that guy was pissed,” Ralphie laughs, “Lexi really nailed him. I loved every second of it. What an asshole! Cheating on a girl like Lex? God, what an idiot!” Noticing an empty glass pulls him back to work and leaves me ruminating over this information. From his eyes he’s got a crush, and I don’t blame him.
I lift the menu but don’t see the words.
Yep, can’t stalk her apartment complex.
That’s not how you treat a Cocker.
But I definitely want to see her again. Can’t deny it now that I’m sitting here even when I knew I was so fucking tired I should be in bed after this rough week.
Yet here I am.
On the same barstool.
The only one available.
So fucked up.
Ralphie comes over. “You getting somethin’ to eat, Gage?”
“Yeah, lemme get a…” I set the menu down. “cheese Impossible burger and chili fries.”
He pokes at his computer to send my order to the kitchen, asking, “You get her number?”
A smile flashes, one he doesn’t see. By the time he turns around I’m stoic, as usual. “She’s in love with that guy.”
Ralphie plants his hands on the bar, gazing at the memory of her beauty. “I gotta say, first time she walked in here, my heart stopped beating. She’s got this fantastic mix of class and brass that I just can’t get enough of it.”
“Ever do anything about it?” I ask, guessing the answer is no from his wishful smile.
“I tried. She politely set me straight.” He locks eyes with me. “And by politely I mean she said, That’s real sweet, Ralphie, but it’s never gonna happen.”
I snort a laugh, “Seriously?”
“Yeah.” He taps the bar and walks off, calling back, “Only made me love her more!”
Chuckling to myself since I can picture her saying it — the sweetness on her smile combined with the knife of her tongue — I turn around to do what I came for, even though I know it’s fruitless. When a man is pulled, he’s got to act on it.
It’s Thursday.
People prepping for the weekend.
Only two tables empty — and one has yet to be cleared from the patrons who just left.
No Samantha.
No Zoe.
And no Lexi Cocker. I dig my phone from my back pocket to look up Ralphie’s Mustang to see about parts, what it’ll cost him to fix. I’ll give him a good price as I give all my friends. Can’t do it at cost since my time is as valuable as anyone’s else’s. Nobody should work for free.
A grumble in my stomach welcomes the food, and I dig in, halfway through by the time Ralphie comes back to hang out at this end of the bar. Place is jumpin’ now, and it’s gonna get busier since the weather is so good.
He grabs one of my fries and eats it.
“How is it?”
“Fucking amazing.”
We both look toward the bathrooms as a guy shouts, “Get out here, Gina!” banging on the door.
From the other side comes a muffled, “No! You can’t do this to me!”
A different female voice adds from behind the splotchy-painted wood, “Just go home, Dave! Leave her alone!”
He growls, “Stay outta this, Melanie!”
Ralphie walks out from behind the bar, “What’s the problem over here!?” and I follow as backup, jumping off my barstool and taking a chili-covered fry with me.
The whole place is watching.
Dave jams his finger into unforgiving wood. “She took my fucking wallet!”
Ralphie tries to open the door but it won’t budge. “You girls holding this shut?”
“You bet your ass!”
He shakes his head and turns to me. “Can’t kick it open. If I hurt them they can sue me.”
“That’s a backward problem.”
Ralphie mutters, “Tell me about it,” pulling out his phone and dialing the police.
“Give me my fucking wallet!” Dave yells, banging on the wood.
A third female voice shouts, “She’s not gonna give you your wallet, Dave, so you’re shit out of luck, buddy!”
I cut a glance to the crowd silently munching their food and drinking beers as if a movie is taking place in real life.
Ralphie and I lock eyes, both of us wondering the same thing: Gina has two friends as backup. What’s the story? It’s not a normal robbery. They all know each other.
What the fuck?
As he talks to the police department, I ask Dave, “Why’d she take your wallet?”
Staring at the door like he wishes he could break it, Dave grumbles, “I broke up with her tonight.”
I head back to my food.
It’s gonna get cold.
Can’t have that.
I’d say about three quarters of the joint follows my lead, the other one-quarter still interested in the useless threats and nonsensical bullshit. Trouble is, girls are crossing their legs wanting to pee, and this place doesn’t have unisex bathrooms — the urinals don’t smell so great.
But Gina, Melanie, and whoever the third friend is, only care about one thing.
Typical heartbreak combined with admirable friendship loyalty.
Soon afterward, a cacophony of shuffled weight makes me aware the police must’ve arrived, drawing the collective attention of all present.
I glance over my shoulder, right cheek full like a half-committed squirrel, to watch two cops stroll in — one enormous and bald, the other…
Wyatt Cocker.
My chewing slows.
He’s focused on the bathroom, but his gaze slides over to me and holds. I feel the recognition, but he’s not sure where or why, yet, so he walks to my friend.
“Ralphie, what’s going on here?”
Dave thrusts his arm toward the barred door. “Gina took my wallet after I broke up with her!”
Wyatt’s big, bald partner speaks a low rumble, the kind you feel in your chest like sub-woofers. “Did you hit Gina?”
“No!”
“Did she hit you?”
Dave balks, “No! She just took my fuckin’ wallet and won’t give it back.”
Gina’s voice comes through the wood, “He took more than that!”
Wyatt holds up his hand. “Washington, let me handle this. Hey, Gina, am I to understand you got your heart broken?”
There’s silence.
Total.
Complete.
Everyone waiting.
He continues, “…so you decided to steal his wallet to make him stay here and pay more attention than he was paying? So he would literally pay?”
I swallow and frown.
Wyatt’s wiser than he looks. That was a quick jump yet he nailed it.
The door opens and a feminine hand juts out, ransom no longer wanted. “Here.”
Dave falters and takes it, “Thanks,” before he trudges off toward the back door.
Gina appears — this dark-haired slip of a girl — and shouts with both fists pointed at the scuffed floor, “You didn’t say you’re sorry!”
He spins around. “For what?”
Shaking she’s so mad, Gina snaps a disappointed, “Forget it!”
Dave stares at her, and walks ou
t of her life. Maybe forever. I wouldn’t know. But it’s not a fun ending for the crowd to enjoy, and the despondent feeling is palpable.
Ralphie exhales another night of unpredictable bartending and tells the cops, “Lemme buy you guys a beer.”
Wyatt and Washington head over, the latter rumbling, “I wish we could take you up on that,” as the former locks eyes with me while Ralphie nods and strolls off to help customers who finished their drinks during the drama.
Wyatt Cocker has an easy humor in his eyes that makes me like him instantly. “You have that red Bronco, don’t you?”
I turn on the seat to face him. “That was me, yeah.”
“You were with my cousin.”
“I took her home after—”
“—I know. My brother and sister told me about it when I walked in. Saw the douche, too.” Wyatt shakes his head, muttering, “Can’t believe that’s the guy she’d been hiding all these years.”
“Hiding?”
Meeting my gaze, he notes that behind my feigned casualness I’m genuinely curious, and his brown eyes narrow on me.
I bet that, as a cop, Wyatt’s probably learned how to read people since most lie to him.
“What’s your name?”
“Gage Holbrook.”
He’s sizing me up, Washington waiting next to him until Wyatt says, “Hang on a sec.”
We both watch as he walks off, tapping away at his phone.
What’s he doing?
I glance to Washington, but he’s in the dark, too, with an amused smirk like his partner is unpredictable and that’s part of the fun.
Wyatt scans the crowd like he’s searching for something — or just biding his time. Suddenly his phone lights up and he inspects the message. Tucking it back into his pocket, he strolls up. “Nice to meet you, Gage.”
They leave with me wondering what the fuck was that about?
Chapter Twelve
GAGE
“A nother beer?” Ralphie picks up my empty one. “You nursed this bad boy pretty good.”
Over the loud conversations I tell him, “One’s enough. I gotta go home.”
“Already?” comes a female voice on my right. Ralphie’s eyes light up as Lexi mounts the empty barstool beside me with an all-too-casual smile. “I just got here. Keep me company? Ralphie, can I get a Transmigration draft?”
“You got it, Lex,” he grins, tapping the bar and glancing to me, wondering what’s up with us.
Ralphie also delivers a new bottle of mine without asking again.
Since Lexi and I haven’t said another word to each other yet, he unloads his curiosity with nothing else to stop him, “You come here alone?” There are ulterior questions in his eyes: Why would she do that? Where are her accomplices? She here for Gage?
I’m wondering the same things as I hold my ice-cold bottle, her presence melting it more by the second.
Lexi smiles, “Samantha’s on her way, Ralphie,” adding with an innocent lift of cherry eyebrows, “Why so curious?”
“No reason. I was just askin’,” he stutters, heading off to help customers that probably don’t need him. Even with her feigned innocence it was clear she saw right though the guy.
I lift my bottle. “To meeting again.”
A quick lip-bite awakens my cock, followed by a smile that awakens the rest of me. “To meeting again.”
She’s so fucking beautiful. That knowledge of her worth is why her appeal is so strong. Self confidence is a potent ally.
“What’re you smiling at?” she asks.
“You.”
Licking beer from her fingers — in a practical way, not like she’s the star of some porno — Lexi drives me absolutely crazy.
You’d never know it from my face. Reach into my pants and a different story will be told.
I’ve got my hand wrapped around the base of my bottle, watching her. Finally I smirk, “Your sister’s not coming.”
“Yes she is!”
“I said no lies.”
Lexi’s mischief remains even as her shoulders drop. “Fine.”
“You come here alone a lot?”
“If I did, Ralphie wouldn’t have asked me that!”
“Maybe you sneak in on his off nights.”
“No.”
“Have a few whiskeys.”
“No!”
“Sneak off to some other bars after this one, have about fourteen more until you do a face-plant in an alley.”
“Yeah right.”
“Have to call your sister, Sam, come pick me up!”
“Stop it!” she laughs, hitting my arm.
I cover my laugh with the bottle, taking a slow swig before drinking her in next.
“You look good.”
“Thank you, Gage.”
In a white t-shirt that reads Om This, light blue jeans, and those boots I took off of her last Saturday night, Lexi is even prettier than when she was more dressed up. I prefer this look — effortless and laid back.
“Where’d your curls go?”
“I tamed them.”
“Nothing about you is tame, Cherry.”
Her expression glimmers at the nickname, and the accurate observation. “You like that about me, don’t you, Crocodile?”
I chuckle, glancing down to the bar counter. “Maybe.”
“So…how was your week? What’d you do, besides miss me?”
“I didn’t miss you.”
“Thought you said no lies.”
I lock eyes with her. “It wasn’t ‘missing’ exactly.”
Her sparkling gaze traces my face, voice becoming intimate, “No, but it was something.”
I frown, eyes narrowing as I watch her take a sip, licking IPA residue from her lips. Felt like she meant that applied to her, too. Haven’t been able to get Lexi out of my mind since I dropped her off at church. Has she been thinking about me? Is that what she’s trying to tell me?
“Since you didn’t answer my question, I’ll go first,” she begins, turning toward the bar, both hands lightly on her pint glass. “This week has been pretty uneventful but good overall. I worked…” She points to her t-shirt.
“What is that?”
“Yoga studio.”
“Ah.”
“I saw a couple movies—”
“—At an actual theater?”
“Mmhmm. One was good, the other sucked. But we had fun anyway. I think the highlight of my week, though, was delivering good news to my boss. We had an uptick in profit thanks to an idea of mine.”
“Great week.” Glancing to the computer as Ralphie taps in someone’s order, I’m hoping she doesn’t ask about mine. I don’t feel like dwelling on what happened.
“What about you?” she asks.
Crunching my inner cheek, I bring the bottle to my lips, “What was your idea?”
She stares at me a moment, and decides to let me evade the question, launching instead into her story about webinars and marketing concepts, how her cousin’s wife had an aversion to it for all the wrong reasons and because she had a limiting concept that was holding her back.
I’m listening intently as Lexi thoroughly describes what she learned from online classes — and it all makes sense to me. Her excitement about it combined with clarity in explanation makes the story engaging. I’m staring at her the entire time, and she’s gotta be going for a good ten to twelve minutes.
As soon as Lexi finishes I compliment her, “You’re very smart.”
Her smile widens as green eyes gaze at me. “Thank you, Gage.” A self-conscious laugh bubbles out and she faces forward, lifting her pint glass, gaze shyly averted and it’s no act. “Nobody ever calls me that.”
“Your fire probably distracts them from the coals that make it burn.”
She swivels.
Blinks at me.
Smile gone.
I hold her look.
And wait.
Ralphie walks up, and turns back around, feeling something between us that he doesn’t belong
in.
I ask, voice deep, “Something’ on your mind, Cherry?”
“This,” she whispers, leaning in. I close my eyes as her lips brush mine, sending flames into my blood. Fuck this tentative crap, I think to myself as I cup the back of her head and kiss her, deeply, slowly, and not giving a fuck who’s watching. With our lips locked, Lexi slides off that barstool and climbs onto my lap with my help, legs straddled as we keep kissing.
A couple wolf whistles don’t break through. They’re in some far off world where other people matter.
Ralphie, good sport that he is, starts clapping and shouting, “You lucky bastard!” and that one cuts through but we ignore him, too.
Lexi’s got her fingers laced in my hair while my grip locks onto this sweet round ass of hers, soft breasts pressing into my chest as we kiss for one hell of a long time.
She pulls back to look at me from under hooded eyelashes, oblivious to anything and anyone but me. “Wyatt texted me you were here."
“I figured.”
“Why d’ya think he did that?”
“Did you ask him?”
“I just sent back a short, So?”
A laugh rumbles my chest, low and deep since sex is on my mind. “That’s all you wrote?”
“Yeah.”
“Guess that’s why he left so quick.”
“It didn’t make any sense.”
“And yet you’re here.”
She smiles, “Yeah,” pushing hair away from my eyes. “You have to work tomorrow, Crocodile?”
“Yep.”
“Me too.”
“Early?”
“Mmhmm.”
“They’ve got this great invention.”
“What is it?”
“Coffee.”
Lexi grins, “What a miraculous invention.”
I kiss her, murmuring against her wet lips, “Let’s go make some curls.”
Chapter Thirteen
LEXI
“Y ou keep a clean house,” I note as my index finger slides along the back of a brown leather armchair. Suddenly I’m lifted into the air, “Whoa!” cradled in Gage’s arms, carried upstairs as I watch him concentrate. “Why the frown?”
“You think mechanics are messy.”
“What? No, I…”
Mid-staircase I’m set down, both of us standing on higher and lower steps so I’m almost as tall as he is, but not quite. More eye-level though which I don’t know is a good thing considering I can better see from this position how pissed he is. “Why don’t we keep our supposed status-levels outside of my house?”
Lexi Cocker (Cocker Brothers Book 25) Page 7
