by Janie Crouch
And then, as a big middle finger back from him, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to actually eat it.
She and Peter had never been big on celebrating birthdays. According to him, they were just another day. No more important than any other day.
But somehow, this day that had shifted her into the last year of her thirties seemed different. Made her feel older. More isolated. More unsettled.
Thirty-nine wasn’t one of those birthdays someone thought about often. If she had thought about where she’d be on her thirty-ninth birthday, it would not have been alone in a shared state college office in Wyoming.
She slid her hand toward the box, but stopped, cursing herself when she couldn’t open it and demolish the treat inside.
On her thirty-eighth birthday, she and Peter were already divorced, so she’d celebrated with her colleagues over a shared glass of wine. It had lasted an hour before they’d all gone on their way.
But she didn’t have even that much this year.
Blinking back tears, she stood and slipped on her jacket. Damn it, she wasn’t going to stay in this office alone, focusing in on how sad her life was. It was Friday night, she would take herself out to eat, then maybe go to the great Eagle’s Nest and have a glass of wine.
It would be nice to have someone to celebrate with, but she hadn’t really made friends yet. She could call Riley, but she wasn’t ready to explain all the details of her failed life.
There was Lexi, but she hadn’t given any indication that she’d like to be anything more than Quinn’s boss.
Baby was the only other person she’d talked to, but she hadn’t seen him since that first day. She thought maybe she would after he’d been so vehement about wanting to know her name.
Should she really be surprised that she’d read his interest wrong? She had no business running around with a guy half her age, or somewhere around there, anyway.
She glanced at the bakery box again. Thirty-nine. Damn it. This was going to be the year she got it all together. She decreed it so.
She would treat herself to dinner, then to a glass of wine. She didn’t need to surround herself with strangers in order to celebrate. She would celebrate by herself.
And she would damn well eat this cupcake.
Chapter Four
What did you call a week where you’d flunked out of college again, and then someone almost killed you while you were rappelling down the side of a cliff?
Shitty.
And that was exactly the week Baby had had.
So here he was, avoiding all his friends and family. Avoiding anyone who might be concerned that he was struggling with his near brush with death during the Wild Wyoming Adventure Race a few days ago.
Nearly plummeting to his death had, in fact, been a little scary. But for the grace of God and a bad case of wilderness diarrhea, there might have been a Baby-shaped splatter on the bottom of a ravine.
It had really been Riley Harrison’s—the famous Phoenix—reflexes that had saved Baby. Rightfully so, since the person who’d tampered with the rappelling equipment had been trying to kill Riley. But still, too close of a call for anybody’s liking.
Regardless of being caught between Riley and a psychopath, Baby had actually enjoyed himself during the race. Pushing limits was what WAR—or the Wild Wyoming Adventure Race—was all about. Basic survival, mental toughness, and physical abilities.
And it meant being in the wilderness he loved and had grown up in. No damned paperwork or emails or failing college courses hanging over his head out there.
He’d take killers any day over stacks of correspondence back in real life.
But unfortunately, all that stuff had been waiting for him this morning when he’d gotten back. He’d ignored most of it. It could wait until he was in a better frame of mind.
But the email from his new literature professor wasn’t one he could toss without reading, so he’d forced himself to get through it. It had taken him a shit ton of time to figure out how to phrase everything in his first email to her, asking for a chance to redo some of the assignments he’d messed up with Mr. Lewis.
Her response included a lot of unnecessary words, but he’d finally figured out the gist: No.
She didn’t care that Mr. Lewis had been a terrible instructor who’d rarely been available for questions and communicated exclusively via email, which hadn’t helped Baby at all.
Taking an online course in literature—one of the three classes he needed to pass in order to finish his bachelor’s degree—had been a last-ditch effort. He’d tried taking the course traditionally a few semesters ago, but he’d failed then too.
Failed. Something that happened each of the three times he’d tried to take the required literature class. Failed English 101 twice.
He’d made it through his math and science classes with no problems. Physics? Like second nature to him. His instructor had said Baby could’ve taught the class.
But courses based solely on reading and writing? They currently brought his college-degree plans to a screeching halt.
What were you thinking, Pop? Why the hell did you have to make everything so complicated?
But there were no answers from the dead garage owner.
Between the race that had almost killed him and the college classes that definitely would, Baby wasn’t interested in drinking and celebrating with his Oak Creek friends tonight.
Everyone would be at the Eagle’s Nest and expected Baby to be there to join in the fun. But not tonight.
Tonight, with his failures hanging all over him, he couldn’t stand to be around the people who knew him best—the same people who didn’t actually know him at all. So here he was at Bandits, the not-quite-so-upstanding version of the Eagle’s Nest, about fifteen miles south of town off Highway 191.
He wasn’t exactly sure what he was hoping to find here. He just knew what he wouldn’t find here: close friends.
The lighting was dim inside Bandits, the air a little stale. Baby had spent the entire past week outside, so a little dim and stale suited him just fine.
Classic rock blared from the bar speakers—Van Halen’s guitar licks setting the vibe. A large bar ran along the south wall, booths along the back edge, a couple of pool tables near the bathrooms, and a small dance floor—already crowded with a group of women and a few couples.
Baby didn’t smile at anyone as he made his way over to the bar and ordered himself a boilermaker. Josh, a bartender Baby knew casually, poured the shot, then the beer, before he dropped the shot glass into the beer. Baby drank them both while Josh was still in front of him, then nodded at the man’s raised eyebrow, silently asking if he wanted another.
“I’ll start you a tab.” Baby had another boilermaker in his hand a few seconds later. He took this one at a slightly less reckless pace. There wasn’t much point in getting rip-roaring drunk. Bandits might not be his normal hangout, but most of the people in here, including Josh, still knew who Baby was. If he got shit-faced, somebody was going to call Finn, Zac, Gavin, or any of the Linear guys to come get him.
That was the problem with small town life. Everyone always had your back, whether you wanted them to or not.
Plus, drunk wasn’t going to change the fact that he might have lost his chance to own the Oak Creek Garage. All he needed was to finish these three classes, and he’d have his bachelor’s degree. But he was down to his final semester to pass them all. If he hadn’t been able to complete them individually, how the hell could he do them all in one semester?
Baby ran his fingers through his hair. What had Pop Owens been thinking with that fucking will? Requiring Baby to get a college degree in seven years in order to receive ownership of the garage?
He knew why. Because Pop Owens had believed Baby could get the degree. He had wanted to push Baby to be the best version of himself.
He took a sip of his drink. His best wasn’t going to be enough.
When Baby didn’t complete his degree, Oak Creek Auto would g
o up for sale. Nation Value Automotive would be first in line to buy it, offering way more money than Baby could.
Baby wouldn’t have to buy it at all if he could finish those damned college classes. And he’d do that if—
“You look like you need something stronger.” Josh walked by on his way to deliver two beers to the couple at the end of the bar.
Baby took another sip. “I’m not much interested in working for Nation Value Automotive.”
Josh’s brows furrowed. “Nation Value moving into Oak Creek?”
“Maybe,” Baby muttered. “Because I’m a dumbass.”
Josh wisely moved on to some other customers. Baby sighed and turned to the side, leaning his elbow back on the bar so he could see what was going on around him.
Why the hell was he here?
There were people he could talk to, but he didn’t want to talk. There were a few guys playing darts he could probably join. A few others playing pool in the other corner, along with a couple of women he knew from town. Now that the beat had picked back up, there was a group of women dancing, a couple of whom were making no qualms about trying to get Baby’s attention and get him out on the dance floor with them. Normally he would join, but not tonight.
He finished his drink slowly, hoping it might contain the answers he was seeking. Some way to get himself out of this.
Big surprise, it didn’t.
It had been a mistake coming here, he finally admitted. He signaled Josh so he could pay his tab. There was nothing here for him. He’d hang out another thirty minutes or so to make sure he was sober enough to drive. Then he’d go home—where he should’ve stayed in the first place. He’d get a good night’s sleep, let his body recover from what he’d put it through during WAR.
He leaned back to slide his glass toward the bar and that’s when he saw her.
Quinn, the waitress.
He hadn’t seen her for nearly a week, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t thought about her. He’d spent quite a bit of time wondering if she’d gotten any better at waiting tables since that god-awful first day.
But hell, if she didn’t look just as out of place in the small corner booth here as she had looked waiting tables at the Eagle’s Nest.
Was she still wearing those endearingly practical low-heeled shoes? Probably. They’d undoubtably go well with the tailored black trousers and tasteful cream blouse she was wearing. Her hair was still up in that tight bun—pulled so severely, he had to wonder if it hurt her head.
It made him feel a little perverted, but lying in his sleeping bag at night on the race, it had been thoughts of easing her brown hair out of that bun, letting it fall down her back, and running his fingers through it over and over that had captured his thoughts.
Okay, and maybe a little more once he got that hair down from the bun.
Josh saw where he was looking. “Guys been trying to sit with her all night. She ain’t open for business.”
For the first time all day, Baby felt a genuine smile on his face. “Of course, she’s not. She’s too good for any guy here.”
Josh raised an eyebrow. “That include you?”
Baby rolled his eyes. “She’s especially too good for me.” But that didn’t mean he was going to leave her to drink alone if he could talk her into something otherwise. “What is she drinking? White wine? Some sort of import?”
“Tequila shots.”
Oh hell. He couldn’t help his smile.
“You know her? I haven’t seen her around.”
“She’s the Eagle’s Nest’s new lunch waitress.”
Josh grunted. “She’s not the type we normally get around here. I give it another hour before her polite ‘no’ doesn’t keep the hounds at bay anymore.”
Probably not what the older man wanted to worry about on a busy Friday night.
“You won’t have to worry about it.” Baby got out the cash to pay his tab.
Josh handed him back his change. “Am I going to have to worry about you?”
“I’m not going to push it if she doesn’t want my company.” God knew he’d come in here to drink alone, so he understood the appeal. “But I’m going to make sure nobody else pushes it either. I’m just going to make sure the lady gets what she wants.”
And he hoped like hell that was him.
Chapter Five
“Mind if I join you?”
She was already shaking her head no before she looked up at him. Baby didn’t blame her. In the time it had taken him to settle up with Josh and then order the other drinks he’d decided to use as bait, another guy had sauntered over to Quinn’s little booth, vying for her attention. She’d turned him away.
“Thank you, but I’m really trying to—” Her brown eyes met his and he saw the flare of recognition in her eyes, followed by embarrassed pleasure.
He liked to see both of those things. She remembered him. And she was affected by him, at least a little bit.
The demons that had been riding him all evening suddenly seemed far away.
“B–A–B–Y.” She spelled out his name with an adorable little slur. “Baby.”
He shot her a smile. “Q–U–I–N–N. Quinn. Would you mind if I sit down?”
She gestured her arm out to the booth seat across from her. “Are you a waitress here?”
He chuckled. “Nope.”
“That’s good. Because if you were, you’re a pretty bad one.” She pointed at his tray with the multiple drinks as he slid into the booth across from her. “I didn’t order any of that stuff.”
“You didn’t have to. I brought the Baby assortment. Guaranteed to help in whatever stage of drinking you’re at.”
She studied the tray with the six different beverages—two of each kind—like it was a science experiment and she was in charge of dissecting it.
“I don’t know what those are,” she said solemnly.
He picked up the two smallest glasses from the tray and set them on the table. “Two shots of Roca Patron if we’re trying to ramp up the party.”
He slid the two slightly taller glasses in front of the shots. “These are Palomas, also tequila-based, but with some other yummy stuff in there if all we’re trying to do is keep the party going at a steady pace.”
She slid lower in her seat to stare at them. “Ooh. I like the pink, it’s so pretty.”
As soon as she said it, she popped her hand over her mouth, and her brown eyes shot up to his almost in trepidation, like she expected him to mock her.
He just smiled. “I’m glad you like it. Josh, the bartender, liked them, too.”
Josh’s exact words had been ‘damned prissy pretty princess drink,’ but close enough.
She nodded solemnly. “What are those? They look dangerous.” She pointed to the last two glasses.
He winked at her. “Those are plain water. In case your party has already gotten out of control and you need to cool it down completely. You are acting a little wild, Quinn. Josh might call the cops on you if you’re not careful.”
Her eyes narrowed like she couldn’t quite decide if he was teasing or not. He just kept smiling. She eventually dropped her gaze to stare back at the table. Baby handed the tray to a waitress as she walked past, then propped his elbows on the table.
Aerosmith blared through the bar’s speakers, but it wasn’t too loud over in this corner.
“They look like a bunch of soldiers, don’t they?” she asked. She had lined up her five shot glasses—two empty—around a small white cardboard box with a Fancy Pants Bakery label on it, almost as if they were guarding it. The six glasses he’d added to the table looked like they were attempting a siege.
He raised an eyebrow at her. He still didn’t know what she was doing here in this dim corner booth alone. “Going to drink any of your soldiers, or do you want to try one of mine?”
She eyed the Palomas again, and he slid one toward her. “Go ahead, he’s here to see if there’s any chance for the opposing sides to negotiate.”
She sm
iled and raised the drink to her lips, eyes growing wide after the first sip. “That’s delicious.”
“Yeah? Pretty and delicious.” He wasn’t talking about a damned drink.
“I normally drink Cabernet Sauvignon.”
“Of course, you do.” Everything about her fairly screamed fancy wine. “I’m surprised you like the Palomas if you normally enjoy such a dry red.”
She took another sip of the pink cocktail then leaned in and whispered, “I don’t really like Cabernet Sauvignon. It’s too dry. Doesn’t taste good.”
He leaned in too. “Then why do you drink it?”
Brown eyes blinked at him for a long moment. “It’s not pink.”
He wasn’t sure what that meant. “No...definitely not pink. But I’m glad that pink soldier tastes good.”
She nodded, leaned back, and took another sip. Baby took a sip of the water. He wasn’t sure exactly what was going on in that head of hers, but he wanted to make sure he was able to take care of her, no matter what state she was in.
“Why aren’t you at the Eagle’s Nest?” she asked. “I heard you’re a regular around there.”
“I wanted something a little different tonight. Sometimes it’s nice to be somewhere where nobody expects too much from me.”
She nodded. “Expectations. I understand that.”
“Not to mention, I literally got back this morning from a local race—the Wild Wyoming Adventure Race. It was filled with all sorts of drama, and I needed to get away from that for a minute.”
She looked down at shot glasses in front of her. “WAR.”
“You’ve heard of it?” The endurance race was pretty well known in extreme athletes circles, but he wouldn’t have taken her for a fan.
“Yeah, I’ve heard the name before.”
There was more she wasn’t telling him, but he decided to leave it alone for now.
“What are you doing here? I would’ve thought you might’ve made some friends at the Eagle’s Nest to hang out with.”
She grimaced again, and he bit back a curse. Shit. Had she gotten fired? He hadn’t been around since that first day. “Not that you have to hang out at the Eagle’s Nest if you don’t like it there anymore,” he added quickly.
