“Well, lookie there,” Peck says. He scoots over one stool and pats the one he just vacated. His eyes light up like a bright summer sky. “What’s happening?”
“Not much. What about you?” I ask.
“Oh, just having a beer. Watching the game,” he says, nodding his head toward the television above the beer cooler. “Also, kinda trying to flirt with the new bartender.” His face scrunches together as though he’s embarrassed.
I sit down beside him. “Yes! She’s super pretty and seems really nice. I love her for you.”
“Settle down,” Cross says. “He didn’t say he was marrying her.”
I press my elbow backward, and it lands in my brother’s stomach. “You stay out of this.” Taking a quick check down the bar to see Machlan’s gone, I look instead at Peck. “Navie, huh? Much, much better than Molly. I approve.”
“Now, let’s not go hating on my girl. I’m still marrying Molly someday,” he says. “I’m just testing out my flirting skills on Navie. I don’t think she minds.”
He gives me the cutest smile, the one I think of when I think of Peck. It’s adorable with a hint of disobedience that makes you want to hug him and hit him at the same time. It’s pretty charming, actually.
“No, I bet she doesn’t,” I say. “I …”
My cheeks flush as my gaze finds Machlan’s. He seems oblivious to the guy he’s handing a beer to. His chin is dipped ever so slightly as he narrows his eyes as though he’s unsure if he’s seeing things—meaning me—correctly.
My heart skips a beat. Then two. He nods absentmindedly to the patron who just took the beer and ignores the money being flashed his way. As he stalks his way toward me instead, it skips a third.
The unknown buzzes through my veins. The glow of the pink flamingo lights hanging above the antique mirror that frames the liquor bottles gives him a warm, roguish glow. The hottest thing, besides my cheeks, is the way he looks at me.
One hand cups his chin, his fingers working back and forth over his mouth as if he’s trying to hide a smile. His eyes are trained on me so intently I squirm in my seat. Desire pools in my lower belly. My stomach topples over itself, unable to steady against the fire coming from his gorgeous eyes. My palms dampen.
Breathe, Hadley.
“You ready for this?” Peck cracks beside me.
“Ready for what?” Cross asks, looking up from his phone. “Oh, shit.”
“Incoming in five … four … three … two … one … liftoff,” Peck whispers, bringing a bottle of beer to his lips.
“Hey, Mach,” I say, hoping to take some of the wind out of his sails by speaking first.
He plants both palms on the bar. Hard. His gaze lingers on me for a few long seconds before he rips them away and plops them on my brother. “Really, Cross?”
“We were just coming in to say hi,” he says.
“Hi,” Machlan deadpans. His fingertips strum against the counter, a sound I only barely hear over the roar of the crowd.
He extends a finger toward my hand, and I hold my breath, thinking he’s going to touch me. The longer we sit, the more the edge of frustration wavers off his face.
“I can’t take this,” Peck says. “Somebody say something.” He looks back and forth between us. “Fine. I’ll go. What a great game. I have no idea who is playing, but I’m for the green team.”
I snort. “I thought you were for the Navie team.” My shoulder bumps his. “Get it? Navie. Navy.”
Peck laughs. “So witty tonight, Ms. Jacobs.”
“Yeah, I try.”
I also try super hard not to whip my gaze right back to Machlan, but I fail. It’s like he can order my body to do what he wants from the other side of the bar. Like I’m Pavlov’s dog—he dangles the treat and I start salivating. It’s unfair, really.
“I need to get out of here,” Cross says. “Kallie just sent me a text that she’s home, and you know …”
“We know,” Peck groans. “Kallie is home, and you’re pussy whipped. Congratulations.”
“Fuck off, Peck,” Cross says atop my laughter.
Peck just shrugs.
“So you guys are going?” Machlan asks. He looks at my brother, then at me, then drags his eyes back to Cross. “Is that what I heard?”
“I don’t know about Hadley …”
Machlan stands tall. His posture is on point as he looks at Cross. “Oh, I do. Trust me, Cross. A case of blue balls is gonna hurt a whole lot less than the knot I put on your head if you leave her here.”
“Asking me to take her home would go a lot smoother if you do it nicely,” Cross counters.
“Excuse me?” I start to get off the stool but stop when Peck rests a hand gently on my forearm. Shaking him off, I sit back down. “I am right here and perfectly capable of making a decision on where I want to be tonight. Thank you. Both,” I add, looking over my shoulder at my brother.
“Excuse me, but I have a business to run tonight. If I don’t pay attention to what’s happening in here, it’ll all fall apart. Thank you. Both,” Machlan says, unwavering.
He’s dropped the bite in his tone a few decibels. There’s a certain level of sternness in his words, but something that might be the beginning of a plea too. I start to respond when a shriek breaks out from the back.
We all jump as the sound breaks from near the pool tables. Voices rise over the music and the other customers’ chatter. Instinctively, I grab Peck’s arm.
I can’t see what’s happening over the crowd of people, but my heart pounds out of control. Machlan wastes no time jumping on top of the bar in front of me.
Any vulnerability I might’ve seen in him today is long gone. He stands like a soldier, looking menacingly down at an unidentified person in the back.
He looks tall and dark and sexy as fuck. And even though I’m latched on to Peck for protection, my body is wound around Machlan.
“Darren!” His voice booms through the room. Everything stills. If it weren’t for the music playing through the speakers, you could hear a pin drop. “That’s your one! One more time and you’re gone. Got it?”
Machlan watches something, or someone, intently before hopping back to the ground. Slowly, the noise level picks back up. I might start breathing again too.
Peck and Cross both say something. I’m not sure to whom. I’m too busy melting into a puddle of goo under Machlan’s gaze.
His face is flushed from the situation, but it only makes me want him more. It gives him a little unruliness to his otherwise contained appearance.
“Look, Had. If you’re here, I’m gonna be watching you.” A ghost of a smile flirts with his cheeks. “If I’m watching you, I’m not watching them.”
I bite on my bottom lip to keep from breaking into an ear-to-ear smile.
“I have an idea,” Peck chimes in. “I’ll watch her.”
Machlan rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t trust you to watch my dog.”
He tips his empty bottle Machlan’s way. “You let me help close the bar the other night.”
“So?”
“So that establishes a certain level of trust.”
“He has a point,” Cross says. When Machlan shoots him a look, he points a finger his way. “What are you gonna do, Mach? Tell her she can’t stay? Good luck with that.” He pats me on the shoulder. “I’m going home to my girl. You guys can do whatever you want. Peck, you’ll make sure she gets to the apartment, right?”
“As long as Machlan doesn’t kill me.”
I lay my head on Peck’s shoulder. “You protect me from the boogeymen in here, and I’ll protect you from Machlan.”
“Who’s gonna protect you from me?” Machlan’s eyes twinkle as he says the words.
My jaw hangs open in a very unladylike fashion. I can’t pick it up. I can’t speak, but I am grateful when Cross does.
“Can we not?” my brother asks.
Machlan turns to address someone shouting his name from the other side of the bar. He holds up a finger and turns back
to Peck. “Don’t let me down, Peck.”
“Have I ever let you down?”
“Don’t ask that,” Cross and I say in unison, making everyone laugh.
Machlan shakes his head and starts toward the guy yelling for him.
“Can I get another beer?” Peck shouts his way.
“And I need a drink, please,” I say before Machlan is out of earshot. He just shakes his head harder.
Cross leans in and tells me he’ll call me tomorrow. He and Peck have a hushed conversation before Peck turns back to the television and Cross turns toward the door.
My attention naturally turns to Machlan.
He has a bottle of a clear-colored liquid in one hand and a glass with ice in the other. His biceps flex as he moves behind the bar, pouring and mixing and shaking things together. The longer he stands in one place, the more people gather. It appears as though he’s telling a story because the patrons seem to hang on his words. It’s a very different Machlan than I’m used to seeing.
I’ve seen him control a room. He keeps a solid grip on every situation he’s in. It’s no surprise that he’s the go-to guy when someone in his family needs a favor. Those are the situations he’s most comfortable in. That’s the role he likes to play. But seeing him like this—not only in control and comfortable, but relaxed, maybe even enjoying it, on a whole other level, is fascinating.
“Hey, Hadley!” Navie’s voice draws me out of my spy-fest. “Can I get you something?”
“Please, for the love of God, order water,” Peck groans.
“Did I miss something?” Navie laughs. Her giant gold hoop earrings catch the light and twinkle. “Why do you have to order water? Oh, my God! Are you pregnant?”
“No, no, no. Nothing like that.” I let out a single laugh as I look up. My gaze is snatched out of the air by Machlan’s. He lets it settle over me, lets my body temperature spike to the point of explosion, before pulling it away and back to the bottle in his hand. “I …” I stammer, clearing my throat. “Just … can I get a water?”
“Sure.” She digs in the cooler under the bar and pulls out a bottle. “Here you go.”
Forgetting all about the game on the television, Peck leans toward Navie. Her red lips part into a wide smile as Peck slides his beer bottle from hand to hand.
“What can I get you?” she asks in a much softer, sexier tone than she used with me.
“I could really use another beer.”
She leans closer to him. “Is that so?”
He nods, grinning wildly. “Unless you’d like to dazzle me with some drink making skills.”
“Oh, I have lots of dazzling skills. The problem is figuring out which to show you first.”
Whether he folds under the pressure or loses his cool, I don’t know, but he starts chuckling. His cheeks are as pink as Navie’s shirt.
It’s her turn to smile like an idiot, and I can’t help but feel like I’m intruding. Just when I start to get up, I see Molly and sit right back down.
“Hey, Peck,” Molly says, coming up to the other side of Peck. She pointedly ignores Navie as though she’s not even there. “How are you, baby?”
I flinch, pulling away from the two of them and look at Navie. She looks surprised at the intrusion and at the term of endearment. I hold out a hand to motion for her to wait. That there’s more to this story than lets on.
“I’m good.” Peck sits back in his chair and focuses on Molly. “How are you doin’ tonight?”
“Good.” The sweetness drips off her words like poison, like the fake sugar known to cause cancer. You can feel the tumors grow with each breath she takes. “Just saw you up here and thought I’d say hi.”
Rolling my eyes, I look at Navie. Molly glances quickly at Navie, too, and then bends toward Peck. Her boobs nearly drop to Peck’s lap as her buzzed eyes set on me like I’m the enemy. “Well, hello, there, Hadley Jacobs.”
“Well, hello, there, Molly.” There’s no love in my tone.
There’s no love in the look she shoots me either. She turns back to Peck, who is putty in her hands. “I wondered if you’d look at my car. I’m afraid to try to leave here in it without someone taking a look at it.”
“Oh my God …” I groan.
“What’s it doin’?” Peck asks, oblivious to anything but the girl in front of him.
Molly angles her cleavage toward Peck. “It’s moaning and the ground was all wet underneath it when I got here.”
“Sounds like a piece of shit,” Navie mutters.
I can’t help but laugh, but she’s not talking about the car. And she’s not wrong either. Molly glares at the two of us before going back to work. “Think you could take a look, Peck?”
“Yeah, of course.” He stands and takes the last pull of his beer. “Sit right here, okay? Don’t get up.”
“Are you seriously going outside to look at her car now?” I balk. “It’s dark, dude. All you’re gonna see is the game she’s playing.”
“Be nice,” he whispers. “I’ll be right back.” With a pat on my shoulder and a quick glance at Navie, he follows a smug Molly out the door.
Navie’s jaw drops as Peck walks away. “I have a feeling I don’t even want to know who that girl is.”
“Molly McCarter. Resident town slut and I don’t use that term lightly. I actually selected that word from my expansive vocabulary. It was the only one that fit.”
Navie giggles. “Please. Tell me more.”
I take a sip of water, ignoring Machlan’s stare. “A whore just sleeps around. I have no problems with that. But a slut acts inappropriate, unconcerned with little details like marriage or prior commitments. She’s in it for the drama and attention, not the sex.”
“Love the description.” She looks at the door. “Hate that Peck is out there with her. He seems like a good guy.”
“He’s a great guy. And he’s in here flirting with you, and she can’t take it. She usually ignores him, which is sad, but he’s better off for it, actually.”
She grabs two beers from the cooler and hands them to a couple of guys at the end of the bar. “Does he like her?”
The question is poised as if it was an afterthought. Being that I’ve tried to pry information out of people almost my entire life about Machlan and hoped they didn’t catch on, I catch on.
“He has this crush on her. It’s more like a kid with a puppy than an adult relationship. It won’t last.” Shaking my bottle at her, I throw out an idea. “He just needs someone else to rewire his brain. He can do so much better.”
“I’d do him better.”
“You know what? I like you.” I laugh.
“And I like you.” She glances over her shoulder. “And so does my boss.”
Following her line of sight to Machlan, I catch him watching me out of the corner of his eye. He looks away. I don’t.
Despite the handful of people clearly waiting on his attention, he pauses in front of an old man. The man seems to be fumbling over his words. His finger is crooked with age, and he jabs it toward Machlan with a smile on his face.
Machlan keeps his body square to the old man. He nods his head, smiles at various points, and even laughs a couple of times.
My heart warms just watching him. How he gives so much of himself to these various people is beyond me. I’d be pulling my hair out by now.
“He’s a good guy,” Navie offers.
“Yeah. He is.”
“How long have you known him?”
I settle back in my chair. “Since I was fourteen. I moved here with my father and brother, Cross, when my mom died.”
She nods and then looks over my shoulder. “Okay, then. Since you grew up here—who the hell is that?”
Twenty
Hadley
Woah.
There’s no confusion as to who she’s talking about. If the word stunning was ever supposed to be used to describe men, it was for these two.
They’re tall, fit, and definitely not from Linton. One has on a button
-down with the top two buttons undone, the other dons a polo shirt that shows off his physique. Their hair is perfectly imperfect with a nice, straight trim along the back of their necks and their fancy watches catch what little light there is overhead.
They laugh the kind of laugh that makes you sad you didn’t hear what was said. Their smiles make you jealous of the women in their lives. Their confidence reminds me of Machlan, but in a more polished kind of way.
“Know them?” Navie asks.
“Nope.”
“It’s my job to see if they want a drink, right?” Navie giggles.
“Yeah, if you can do it without giggling like a little girl,” I tease.
“What are we giggling about?” Peck slides into the stool in front of Navie. “What did I miss?”
“I’m not telling you anything since you let Molly order you around,” I say.
“I did not.”
“You did too.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Navie? Did he or not?”
She grabs an order pad and shoves it in the front of her apron. “I’m not getting into it. Instead, I’m going to get back to work.”
She walks away without looking back. Peck watches her in confusion.
I grab my water bottle and twist off the lid, but before I can raise it to my lips, a hard body is pressed behind me. I start to jump but stop when I smell the heavenly scent of Machlan.
My arms go weak as all the blood in my body rushes to my head. The bottle slips from my fingers, but Machlan catches it before it falls.
His breath heats the shell of my ear. “How do you feel?”
I nod, knowing I’m bending my neck for his use but unable to help it. A live wire running through my body both electrifies and freezes me at the same time. “Feels organic.”
Waiting for him to touch me is hard. Anticipating the zing of energy across my skin is frustrating. Not having it happen is infuriating. All I get is a little snicker as a response.
I turn to face him, but he steps away. With a wink that I feel between my legs, he rounds the bar.
Crave: The Gibson Boys, Book #3 Page 15
