“Yes,” he says without missing a beat. “Tell me more.”
I puff my cheeks out and let out a long breath. “By the time I was supposed to send in my college tuition for the first semester, I told my parents I didn’t need the degree for what I wanted to do. Instead of spending thousands of dollars on school, I wanted to put that money away and save for my own business. I honestly didn’t think it would happen as soon as it did, but when Paulie said he was selling The Bucking Bronco, I jumped on it. And in two months, he’ll fly off to Florida, and I will be the proud owner of McConaughey’s.”
His face is a mix of surprise and intrigue. “Why are you changing the name?”
“A few reasons. The Bucking Bronco does great, but there are new bars opening on every corner. The place hasn’t been updated in thirty-five years. I think a fresh look will bring in more people. I’ll still keep the essence of the bar, just with a new twist. Upgrade the technology, revamp the back room to create more of a lounge feel, and freshen up the bar area. Plus, it’ll be mine. I don’t want to just buy someone else’s success. I want to turn it into my own.”
“People will be impressed with your success, which brings me to my next question. Why didn’t you want Rory to know you are buying the bar?” he says. Then, he adds, “Your brother’s a terrible actor by the way.”
I snort, and it’s really unattractive.
I’m too busy being embarrassed when Adam asks, “Leah, does anyone know you’re buying the bar?”
“No,” I say quickly. I’m so used to only my family and Suzanne knowing about my plans. “No one’s allowed to know the bar will be mine.”
He blinks back in confusion. “Why?”
I bite my lip and think of the best words to explain it. “You’d be amazed at how much people tell bartenders. I need them to keep telling me what’s happening in town. It’s how I stay ahead of the crowd. How I control what’s happening inside the bar.”
“Bullshit,” he declares.
I blanch. “Excuse me?”
“That is total bullshit.”
I open my mouth in surprise and then turn my head in the other direction. He puts his hand on my chin and pulls me back toward him.
“Leah,” he says, his voice serious, his eyes burning with earnest, “why don’t you want anyone to know you’ll own the bar?”
I start to say something but realize it’s no use, so I answer honestly, “Because no one will ever take me seriously.”
“Why do you say that?”
“The same reason you don’t. Party-girl Leah owns a bar? People think I’m this flighty bar chick who likes to get down and have fun, no matter what. If they know I run the bar, they’ll trash the place and stop paying tabs.”
“I’d never let that happen.”
“Great. People love going to a place crawling with cops.”
I try to move away, but he opens his hand on my chin and snakes it up the side, bringing me back toward him and making me answer.
“Adam, I know my strengths, but more importantly, I know my weaknesses. Trust me when I tell you, the only way I will be a success is if no one knows the bar is mine.”
“That doesn’t sound like the girl I knew. My Leah breaks balls and tells it like it is. If someone were to stiff you on a tab, you’d get up on that bar and publicly shame them. If they trashed your place, you’d take a Louisville to their car.”
“I can’t have an ego anymore. My parents mortgaged their house, and my grandmother sold her bonds. I handed over every penny I had, and I have a colossal-sized loan to pay off. That’s why, at least for now, I want things to be this way.”
He breaks our eye contact and looks down, a stony expression on his face.
I rub my hands on my pants and give them a pat. “So, yeah, the bar is the love of my life. No room for romance. Not for a long time.” I take a breath because I have been talking way too fast. “Let’s talk about you. Heard your drug bust led to saving the life of a young kid. That’s honorable.”
“Three years,” he says, staring at the airfield. “I’ve been building a case against Nico for three years, and he’s finally been put away.” Adam appears to be thinking heavily. “I couldn’t be part of the undercover investigation because he knows who I am, but I was able to assist.” He shakes his head in disgust. “We taped his phones, followed him as he met with distributors. Each deal took multiple transactions, drivers, phone calls, and locations. The fuck didn’t drive because he’d jump from car to car. He sold our guys twenty thousand dollars’ worth of heroin in six months. Can you imagine how much product that is moving in and out of Cedar Ridge?”
He lifts his water bottle to his mouth and takes a long gulp. “I went to this house, looking for a kid who had been reported missing. When I got there, Nico was selling on the front steps. I called for backup, barged up those steps, and took him down.
“When the EMTs arrived, they rushed into the house. That kid came out on a gurney, and he looked half-dead.”
His mouth purses in, that strong jaw twitching on the side. I know what he’s thinking. It reminded him of Brad.
I lay my hand on his thigh. “You did it. You got Nico, and you saved that kid’s life.”
Adam nods. “I went to see him in the hospital. Nice kid. He’s going to do a treatment program, so I think he’ll be okay.”
“I’m proud of you,” I say, looking up into eyes that have just run through every emotion in the book with one story.
His hand rests on top of mine, the warm weight grounding me into this moment. In twenty-four hours, my world with him has evolved into a new universe.
He takes another drink of water and then looks over at me. “It’s late, and I have to be back in the morning. You ready to head out?” Adam asks.
I nod even though my body is screaming no.
“Sure. Hey, you never said where you would travel. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?”
“Capri, Italy. I hear they have magnificent sunsets.”
“That’s awfully romantic.”
“I’m a pretty romantic guy.”
He stands and then holds a hand out to help me up. I take it, and when I’m upright, he lifts his other hand to my face and brushes his thumb along my cheek.
“You had paint right there,” he says, a slight quirk to his mouth.
“You could have told me that earlier. God, I’m a wreck.” I grab the hem of the too-big T-shirt and hold it out. “I have to give this back to you.”
He lets go of me and starts collecting the blankets from the tailgate. “Keep it,” he says over his shoulder. “You look cute.” He gathers the trash and then jumps off the tailgate before helping me down.
We climb into the front seats.
I’m pulling my seat belt over me when I hear, “Leah?” I’m clicking the buckle when he says, “Next time you play Peeping Tom, make sure you put my mirrors back.”
My eyes close in mortification.
We spend the duration of the ride with a blush on my face and a smile on his.
chapter TWELVE
“All right, all right, all right!” I strut on the top of the bar, wearing my frayed Daisy Dukes, a bikini top, and a leather vest. Paired with cowboy boots and a hat, and I’m one Bucking Bronco cowgirl in full effect.
“I wanna see some sexy ladies on the bar tonight. Who’s ready to get on up here and dance?” I shout into the crowd.
I am bombarded with dozens of raised hands.
Paulie plays some Big & Rich, and the barbacks help some girls up, so they won’t trip. As the girls try to show off their goods, I’ve got a microphone, and I am getting the crowd to sing “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy).” I like to stick to either really popular songs or ones that are fairly old to ensure the crowd knows the words. There is nothing worse than a nonparticipating group.
A girl shimmies over and leans into me, so she can sing into the microphone. She reeks of perfume and desperation. I let her sing while keeping a strong hold o
n the mic. When she’s done, I hop down from the bar and walk over to an oversize speaker that is on the floor by the mechanical bull. Stepping on it, I have a new makeshift stage for myself. I like the oak bar, but sometimes, the girls get very touchy-feely when they’re up there. I’m all for a good time, but if we’re not friends, please don’t touch. It’s creepy.
I’ve got the crowd singing at the top of their lungs. The place is going wild when the front door opens, and in walks someone I wasn’t expecting to see—at least not in pedestrian clothes.
Adam’s presence makes me stop singing temporarily, but no one seems to notice.
They’re all filling the void as they chime in with the chorus.
With my wits regained, I go back to chanting the words and pretend like I don’t see him.
He’s standing against the wall by the front door, looking around the room. He’s done this before, but there’s something about the way he’s leaning on one leg with his hands deep in his pockets that lets me know he’s not here for work. His eyes are missing that scowl. In fact, he looks a bit lost.
The tables are all full, and every stool at the bar is taken. I stay where I am and continue working. After this, Paulie will pick another song, and we’ll host a competition on the mechanical bull. The prize is a free happy hour.
Thirteen people enter, and by the time I’m done hosting the competition and the bar goes back to normal, I am sweaty, and my throat is dry. I walk back to the bar and fill a glass with water, looking back toward the front entrance. While my breath relaxes, my heart drops a little. I raise the glass to my lips and take a drink.
I’m taking said drink and nearly choke in surprise at the sight of Adam at the far end of the bar. He’s talking to my friend Jessica. Yes, talking. Not interrogating. Not condoning. He’s actually sitting on a stool, drinking a beer, like a normal person.
I quickly spin around and check myself out in the mirror behind the liquor shelf. Christ on crutches, I look like a madam in a whore den. I mean, don’t get me wrong; I look good. Legs for days in the Daisy Dukes and a tummy I work crazy hard on to keep nice and tight. Even the tatas are nice and high, glistening a little. Let’s be honest; I rock this outfit. But, still, it is a little much.
I lean over and grab my makeup bag that I keep stashed behind the bar. I need some fresh lip gloss on this pout. I squat down on the floor, open my bag, and take a peek in my compact mirror. I run my fingers under my eyes, add a little powder, and spray some Bath & Body Works over myself. I pop up from the floor and glance over to where Adam is. Or I should say, where he’s not. He’s no longer at the bar, and he’s not standing by the wall.
My shoulders fall.
“Do you see the craziness that is happening on the dance floor?”
My head shoots up at Suzanne’s words.
“Hey,” I say, snapping out of my inner thoughts, “when did you get here?”
Suzanne is leaning over the bar, the excitement in her eyes making them wide and shiny. “Jessica is grinding it up with Adam. Like, they’re dancing. As in, Adam actually moves.”
If I were holding a glass in my hand, I’m sure it would fall to the ground right now. He’s dancing? With a girl? With one of my friends?
My head turns so damn fast toward the dance floor, and sure as shit, there’s Adam and Jessica. Her long brown hair is swaying from side to side with the movement of her body. They’re not touching, but they’re close. Too close for my liking. Her double Ds are one jiggle away from colliding with his chest.
I can feel my jaw hanging down from my face.
Jessica is a nice girl. She’s part of my crew. But she’s so not Adam’s type. She likes to ski, eats sushi, and runs half marathons for charities. She’s a teacher and fosters rescue dogs for fun. She’s really pretty and funny and—goddamn it, she’s actually perfect for him.
“That is the craziest thing I’ve ever seen. I didn’t even know she liked him,” Suzanne shouts from her side of the bar.
I walk over to her and raise my right shoulder up to my ear. “I think it’s a terrible match. She can do so much better.”
Someone is waving their money, trying to get my attention to make them a drink. I look over at the guy and take the order.
I’m shaking up a Kamikaze, a little too vigorously perhaps, as Suzanne says, “You have to admit it; they kinda make sense.”
I cast a casual glance over to the dance floor and feign indifference. Indifference? Ha! In that casual glance, I see Jessica’s hand running from the top of Adam’s neck, down his back and over his ass.
“Eh. I give it to the end of the song, and then they’ll never speak to each other again.” I pour the drink, pop open two beers, and take the guy’s cash.
When I turn back to Suzanne, her eyes are squinty, and her mouth is curled in this very odd way. She looks like she’s having a stroke.
“You like him.”
I lean back and blow air out of my mouth. “Who? Adam? Never.”
Suzanne is slowly nodding her head, still doing that awkward mouth thing. “You. Like. Adam,” she says loudly.
I lean over the bar and cover her mouth with my hand. “Will you shut up? There are a million people here tonight. And, no, I don’t like him. He’s uptight and boring and—”
“Incredibly hot,” Suzanne says as she takes my hand off her mouth. “You say it all the time. He’s hot, but he’s drab. I don’t remember exactly what happened, but you two used to be friends, and then, one day, you decided that no one was allowed to like him, talk to him, or even mention his name. Every time he walks in this bar, you freeze up. When you see him on the street, you start acting all funny. I thought it had something to do with Brad’s death, but it’s deeper, and I can’t believe it took me this long to see it.”
I hold up my finger to her face. “Stop it right there. I don’t like Adam, and that’s final. Besides, I told you, we called a truce. We’re friends now.” I take a beer from the cooler and pop it open. Putting the bottle to my lips, I take a sip and let the ice-cold brew cool down my body.
Suzanne’s brows are raised. “You only drink when he’s around.”
I stop mid gulp. Putting the bottle down, I give her a stern eye, “Sue, I mean it.”
“I won’t say another word. But you’d better get your emotions in check. You and Adam have been spending a lot of time together, and nothing can happen between the two of you. If you start dating your officer and word gets out then everyone will think he made this arrangement because you’re sleeping together. He could lose his job for that and you won’t get your liquor license. Everything you and your family has worked for—every dime you’ve saved, your parents’ house, your grandparent’s bonds—will be lost.”
She’s right. Not that I’ve put any thought into actually pursuing Adam. Maybe we had a moment in his truck, but even if we become the best of friends, nothing will change the one thing that binds us for eternity—Brad. I’m still the girlfriend, and he’ll always be the best friend. There are too many memories and even more regrets to ever allow us to move past that.
“You know what? I think Adam and Jessica make a great pair. We should push it.” My head is bobbing at an excitable rate.
“Glad you feel that way because they’re headed this way now.”
My head stops bobbing.
“Hello, ladies!” Jessica says as she moves through people to get to the bar. Her arm is extended back because it’s holding on to Adam’s as she drags him up to the bar.
Her skin is flushed, but her lipstick is still on her face. I can’t even bring myself to look at him. I turn away and take a few orders, focusing all my attention on making drinks. There is a handsome-looking guy with dark hair who is leaning his elbow on the bar and has a hundred-dollar bill in his hand. There’s a pretty decent-sized crew of guys behind him.
“Six shots of Jameson, a Jack and ginger, two Captain and Cokes, two Stellas, two Chimay drafts, and a Sam Adams,” he shouts his large order.
I sta
rt with the beers and then make the drinks. When they’re all on the bar, I give him a total and ask if he needs anything else. His eyes linger on my breasts. I have to clear my throat to get his attention back up to my eyeballs.
“Just your number, sexy,” he says.
Dipping my hand in my back pocket, I grab a Sharpie I stored there from earlier and write down a phone number. As I’m handing the number to the guy, I see Ron’s head bobbing up from the crowd. He sees the exchange and shakes his head with a smirk. Ron knows I like to give his number out. It’s easier than turning someone down and them making a scene. Most of the time, they meet someone else before the night is over and forget about me. On the off chance that they do call, they get Ron, who pretends he’s my boyfriend and goes apeshit on them. It’s a win-win situation.
I walk back toward my friends and Adam, who is looking good in a blue crew-neck T-shirt and jeans. They still don’t have drinks in front of them.
“Fancy seeing you two together,” I say with a wink. “What can I get you crazy kids?”
“Blue Moon for me. Adam, what are you having?”
Jessica looks behind herself to Adam, and so do I.
Instead of answering her, he’s staring at me, penetrating so deep into me that the room goes silent. There’s movement in my periphery, but all I can focus on is him. A chill runs down my spine and my teeth graze my bottom lip because I need something to do with my mouth.
His tall frame is standing strong, but his face looks torn. Not over what drink to have. Torn over something else.
“I’m good. Gonna call it a night,” he says, still looking back at me.
“Already? It’s still early,” Jessica says.
Adam breaks our connection, looks down at her, and says, “Yeah, I have to be up early tomorrow. Leah, I’ll pick you up at nine.”
I salute him. “Yes, sir.”
It’s at this moment he looks beyond my face and down—down my neck and across my chest that is falling out of my bikini top and further down to my exposed stomach that is contracted with nerves. I can feel the heat of his gaze to my navel.
Wrecked Page 13
