by Jo Leigh
“It’s nothing. He just—” She sighed, pausing to sort out how much she wanted to admit. “He knows about my exam tomorrow.”
“Tommy still hasn’t called?”
Cassie knew better than to attempt constructing a whole sentence. It wasn’t so much that she feared every cuss word she knew would likely come out, but that she might burst into tears. Instead she kept her head down, knowing Lisa would get it.
“I wish I could handle the place by myself,” Lisa said, the sympathy in her voice not helping Cassie remain stoic. “Sometimes I can, but not tonight.”
“It’s okay, really.”
“I should pull Lou or Spider from the back. They drink enough, they should know how to bartend.”
“No.”
“Use me.”
Cassie and Lisa looked up at the same instant.
John stood directly in front of them on the other side of the bar. “Let me cover for you, Cassie,” he said, the softly spoken words affecting her in startling slow motion.
If she didn’t know better she would’ve sworn he’d touched her. Cupped her cheek, brushed a kiss across her lips, stroked his hand down her back. “What?”
“Please. Let me do this while you study.”
Damn him if he was what ended up making her cry. It was bad enough that the customers had seen her go all gooey with John. Crying was out of the question. She was the one who came to other people’s rescue. It was always her riding in to make everything right. She never needed anyone’s help. She carried the world on her shoulders just fine. Problem was, she couldn’t tell him to go away because her voice wouldn’t work.
“Your book is right here,” Lisa said, and moved the pile of rags. She waited for Cassie to respond, then gave up on her and said to John, “She can study in the storage closet right back here. It’s small but big enough, and she has earbuds to block the noise. If you need her she won’t be far.”
“She won’t be disturbed,” he said, so convincingly even Cassie believed him.
He came around to their side of the bar, which snapped her out of her trance. “No. You can’t do this.”
“Why not?” He picked up a clean towel and threw it over his shoulder. “Hey,” he said to Lisa, who’d slipped past him to return to the floor. “Will you handle the register?”
“Absolutely.”
Damn it, he wasn’t listening. Neither of the coconspirators would look at her. Though everyone else in the place seemed to be doing both. She gave a general glare in a sweeping arc, and by then she was able to face John with a good head of steam to steady her.
“John,” Cassie said deliberately, “the answer is no. You don’t know how to mix drinks.”
“Says who?” He glanced around at the occupied tables. “Lots of beer drinkers. So that’s easy. As far as cocktails go, tonight everyone’s drinking either gin and tonic, tequila sunrises or hard liquor...neat or on the rocks.”
“No, they’re not.” Cassie tried to yank the towel off his shoulder, but he caught her hand. “I’ve had orders for piña coladas, rusty nails and—”
“From this moment on, those are their choices. Or they can talk me through a drink I don’t know. It won’t kill anyone.” He smiled and squeezed her hand, low, where no one could see. “Most of these guys in here... They’re your people, Cassie. If they knew the tough spot you were in, they’d want to help.”
“They’re paying customers,” she muttered.
His strong muscled chest was right there in front of her, only a few inches, and she had the sudden and horrifying desire to bury her face against him. If she moved closer he’d put his arms around her. She knew he would, and she could hide from all her problems. If only for a few minutes.
“Come on,” he said gently and picked up the book, holding it out to her. “Get crackin’.”
Lisa chuckled. “I like him,” she said, then left with her loaded tray.
“You can let me go now.” She looked pointedly at the hand engulfed in his, and he released her. When she turned, she saw that Gordon and his crew weren’t thrilled about what had just happened. “Some of those guys might give you a hard time.”
“I thought we agreed I can take care of myself.”
She smiled up at him, ordering herself not to get lost in those warm brown eyes. Not to fool herself into thinking this was anything more than him being a nice person doing a nice thing. “Thanks,” she said in a steady voice, then melted a little when he winked.
* * *
“THREE GIN AND TONICS, two vodka tonics, tequila rocks and don’t forget the lime wedges this time,” Lisa said. “Also, two more—never mind. I’ll get the pitchers started.”
She scooted around to his side and jumped right in, positioning the pitchers under the tap before moving over to the sink and turning on the faucet.
“I don’t know how you two keep up,” he murmured, careful to keep his voice down. Cassie was holed up behind the door just a few feet away, and she’d already ducked her head out twice in the two hours since he’d been playing bartender.
“Well, Cassie’s fast and we’ve worked together a long time, but tonight is extrabusy, plus—” She let out a short laugh. “I don’t know if I should tell you.”
“What?” He concentrated on carefully filling the shot glass, then dumped the gin over the ice in the tumbler. He couldn’t free-pour like Cassie did. The liquor cost would go through the roof if he tried that. “Tell me what?”
Lisa watched him pour the next shot, clearly trying not to laugh. “This isn’t brain surgery. Don’t be so precise.”
“Yeah, well, it’s going to be my head Cassie bites off if I mess up her profits.”
“Don’t worry. Cassie is more generous when she pours. The customers are used to stronger drinks. I’m surprised they haven’t complained. Though they’ve been distracted...” She cursed when she saw the pitchers overflowing and hurried to turn off the tap.
“Okay, here are the gin and tonics.” He stood back. “Oh, shit, wait.” The lime wedges. Where the hell had he put them?
He groaned when he remembered he didn’t have any more cut up. He was supposed to take care of those kind of things in his spare time. Right. As if he’d had a single extra minute. His mouth was dry, and he was so thirsty he’d drink jet fuel at this point.
The door creaked open to the left behind them...Cassie, of course. “Do you need—?”
“No,” John and Lisa said at the same time.
“Fine.” She shut the door rather loudly.
They exchanged grins, then Lisa said, “Our problem child.”
“Third time now. I hope she’s gotten the hint.”
“Um, you don’t know Cassie.”
No, he didn’t. Not as much as he’d like. At what point he’d arrived at that conclusion he wasn’t sure, but he’d seen red when he found out Tommy was in the wind when he knew his sister needed him. He got out the bag of limes and cutting board. Had no idea where he’d put the knife.
Lisa seemed to pull it out of thin air, then waved him away when he reached for it. “Make the vodka tonics. I’ll cut up enough for these drinks, deliver them, then come back and finish.”
He envied how fast she worked. “Thanks for helping me out.”
“Hey, you’re the one helping. Cassie deserves this. She deserves you.” Lisa paused, frowned, sent him a sidelong look. “Someone like you. Hell, you know what I mean.”
John let the comment go and uncapped the vodka bottle. “So, would you say a shot and a half would be about right?”
“Jesus, flyboy, just pour.” Laughing, she picked up her tray, balancing the two heavy pitchers and drinks in one hand. “Be right back.”
A woman of her word, Lisa used the next lull to cut up limes. He figured he’d hit the bonus round when she started washing glasses. “You’re good for business,” she said, glancing over at him with a sly smile.
“Okay, I’ll bite. How so?”
“You asked earlier how we keep up. We get slamme
d sometimes at the end of the month and the middle...you know, around payday. Nothing Cassie and I can’t handle. But tonight, everyone’s ordering extra. They’re trying to keep you humping, see how long it takes for you to blow a fuse. And then there’s a few who just want to annoy the crap out of you.”
“Gee, let me guess who.” Gordon, who hadn’t liked him from the first, gave him a small nod. John held back his grin, even though he’d take that gesture for the compliment it was.
Lisa followed his gaze. “He knows you’re doing this for Cassie. That’s major points right there.”
A giant bear of a man with an impressive beard and endless tats had come from the pool tables and slammed an empty pitcher on the bar hard. “No wonder service is so shitty. You two standing here gabbing like old ladies. What the hell do I have to do to get a refill around here?”
John had been ready to suck it up and apologize, when Lisa said, “Try shutting up for starters.”
Customers at the tables laughed. So did the big guy.
“Damn it, Spider.” Lisa grabbed the pitcher and inspected it. “You could’ve broken this.”
“Where’s Cassie?” Spider asked, frowning at John. “She’s prettier than you.” With beefy hands, he gripped the edge of the bar, arms wide, his round belly pressed against the wood while he studied John’s face. “Though not by much.”
That got another round of laughter.
“Funny. I didn’t know it was open-mic night.”
John heard the storage closet door open, and turned to see Cassie peeking out. “Everything’s fine,” he said.
“What was that loud noise?” She saw Spider and rolled her eyes. “Was that you causing trouble?”
“Cassie.”
At John’s stern tone, she sighed and closed the door.
“Before you get in his face,” Lisa said, drawing the man’s angry glare away from John, “you should know he’s doing this for Cassie. She’s back there studying for an exam. Your buddy was supposed to be working this shift.”
“Where is he?”
“Who knows?” She set the filled pitcher in front of him. “He won’t answer Cassie’s calls.”
Spider’s brows furrowed and his irritation with Tommy seemed legit. He went back to sizing up John, the mischievous gleam entering his eyes hard to miss. “Our girl is more than a bartender. She knows her stuff,” Spider said. “Dude, you got some big shoes to fill.”
John snorted a laugh. “You going anywhere with this?”
“See you, boys.” Lisa picked up her tray, and as she slipped to the other side of the bar, she whispered to John, “His bark’s worse than his bite.”
Spider picked up the pitcher and drank from it as if it were a mug. He wiped the foam off his beard with the back of his arm. “Where’s the cheapest gas in town? You got five seconds.”
John folded his arms across his chest. “The Pilot on Craig.”
Rearing his head back, Spider eyed him with suspicion for a moment, then said, “No shit?”
“Nah. That’s what I heard Cassie tell someone the other day. For all I know they could’ve doubled the price by now.”
Several customers thought that was pretty funny. So did Spider. “You’re all right, pretty boy, you’re all right,” he said, nodding, and then took his pitcher with him back to his pool game.
A guy sitting at Gordon’s table yelled, “Hey, barkeep...”
John looked over, saw everyone’s grins and waited for the smart-ass question he figured was coming.
“The Cheyenne exit is closed for construction. What’s the quickest detour to get downtown?”
“I know this one.” While he answered, he took up where Lisa had left off, washing glasses and mugs, and letting them dry on the rack.
For the next hour, different customers shot out random questions. He replied truthfully to the ones he knew, responded to the absurd queries with the silly answers they deserved. It was all in fun and made the time fly. Lisa had clued him in on the betting pool the regulars had started the minute he’d taken over for Cassie. Evidently him lasting twenty minutes was the long-shot wager.
Since he’d disappointed them, they’d started a new pool. Now they were betting on how long it would take him to break down and call Cassie for help. Fine with him. They were ordering drinks by the case. He just hoped they tipped Lisa and Cassie accordingly.
“I have a question.”
John glanced up from cutting limes and into the flushed face of a short blonde. If she’d been sitting with one of the groups, he hadn’t noticed her. She looked young, and he wondered if he should card her. “Yes?”
“I’d prefer to talk to Cassie,” she said, her voice lowering.
Ah, he got it now. Someone was hedging their bet. “She’s not available.”
“It’s kinda important.”
“Sorry, it’s me or nothing.”
“What about Lisa? Where is she?”
“Taking a smoke break. She’ll be back in ten minutes.”
“Oooh.” She seemed genuinely distressed, biting at her lip, her cheeks growing pinker. But he wasn’t fooled by her act. “It’ll only take a few seconds.”
“I’m not calling Cassie out here, so if you really need something, I suggest you spit it out.”
She took a deep breath. “The machine in the ladies’ room is broken. I need a tampon.”
John blinked, stared at the woman for a moment, then looked over his shoulder. “Hey, Cassie.”
Everyone, without exception, laughed. Even the bald guy who dug in his pocket and had the twenty promptly plucked from his fingers. A side bet, obviously.
“You’re good,” he told the grinning blonde, who then turned and bowed to her audience.
Behind him, he heard the storage door creak...at the exact moment the front door opened.
It was Tommy.
A little unsteady, he looked as if he were drunk. Or barely awake. He stopped just inside, panning the room, his smile growing with the infectious laughter. When his gaze came to John, all humor left Tommy’s face. “Get the fuck out from behind my bar.”
13
ALERTED BY THE SUDDEN silence after laughter that had made her grin, Cassie dropped her pen as the words came through the door.
Her entire chest felt as if it had imploded. Her fury at Tommy was only equaled by her concern. The last thing anyone needed was a fistfight in the middle of the bar. But knowing her brother and his hair-trigger temper, it could happen.
She was off her chair in an instant, barely noticing her book fall to the floor. Once the door opened, it was like staring into a nightmare.
“I’m helping Cassie,” John said, his voice low and serious. She could hear the razor-thin restraint. “She’s in back. Studying.”
Before Tommy could respond, she stepped out, keeping her distance from John. The situation was too volatile and her goal was to stop things right now. The bar was packed, and Tommy... One look at him told her he’d been drinking. God, she wanted to strangle him. But later. “I’m right here,” she said. “Everything’s fine. Thank you, John, for lending a hand, but we’ve got it covered now.”
His shoulder muscles flinched, as did his jaw, but he never took his eyes off Tommy. John’s arms were loose at his sides, his body ready for anything.
Tommy wasn’t nearly so grounded. His rage made his face a dull, dangerous red. He’d worn his prosthesis, but everything about him was unsteady. Fisted hands were halfway raised, and she could tell he was working himself up. “You goddamned officers think you can do anything you please. Walk into a man’s bar and take over. Thinking you’re better ’an me, better ’an all of us. What the hell are you doing in here anyway? Slumming? I saw that Corvette of yours. Too good to park in the lot, huh? Don’t want anyone mistaking you for one of us. God forbid someone thinks you’re enlisted.”
“Tommy,” Cassie said, as strongly as she’d ever said anything in her life. “Stop it. Now.”
“You think you can get into my sist
er’s pants by helping her at the bar? You think she’s stupid? You’re so obvious it’s pathetic. Well, I’ve got news for you. She wouldn’t look at you if you were the last man on earth.”
“That’s it,” John said, tossing the towel from his shoulder to the bar. “You want to know what I’m doing here? Picking up your slack, that’s what. You knew Cassie needed to study, but you couldn’t be bothered to come in to your own goddamn bar and give her a break. I’m doing what you should have had the decency to do. She’s got one more test, one more. And you couldn’t even return her phone calls.”
Tommy took a step toward the bar and almost lost his balance, but two of the regulars jumped to grab him. “Let me go,” he said, his voice quavering with anger.
The men didn’t. Thank God. Cassie took her own step closer to John. She touched him, low, her hand covered by the bar. “Please,” she said, keeping her voice down. “Please, just go.”
“Get off me,” Tommy shouted. “You happy now, Cassie? Now you’ve turned my friends against me?”
“John. I can’t do this. You need to go. I’ll be fine.”
When he looked at her, the struggle was so clear, she wanted to comfort him, but this wasn’t the time. Tommy had to calm down. He could seriously hurt himself or someone else. He’d already humiliated himself to the point where it made her sick.
She took hold of John’s hand and squeezed it as she walked him to the end of the bar, letting go as soon as it would have been seen. But she continued on with him until he was at the front door. “Thank you,” she said, as softly as she could. She didn’t touch him at all, but she prayed he understood that she wanted to. Badly. “We’ll talk later. I appreciate everything you’ve done.”
Tommy started ranting behind her, and John looked over, ready to charge in, but she put a hand on his chest. His heart was beating so fast it echoed her own. “Please.”
He sighed. Nodded once. Then walked away.
Cassie forced herself to face her brother. It wasn’t easy. She loved him, she did, but this was...
He stared at her as if she’d betrayed everything he’d ever held dear. As if she were responsible for all the bad things that had happened to him.
