The Bartender (Working Men Series Book 3)

by Ramona Gray

  He paused in the doorway and gave me another brief, shame-filled glance that broke my heart. “I’m sorry.”

  He walked out of the kitchen and a few seconds later the front door slammed. I slumped against the counter, staring blankly at the floor. Ren had been in prison. The quiet, sweet man I was in love with had been in prison.

  I guess I should have felt disgust, maybe. Or was it anger or hurt I was supposed to be feeling? Ren had lied to me about –

  No, he didn’t lie. You never specifically asked him if he’d been in prison. You’ve barely asked him anything. Too busy using him for your own needs, weren’t you? You’re in love with him, but you can’t even take the time to have one damn conversation with him? You’re just panting after him like a bitch in heat.

  I winced, but my inner voice wasn’t wrong about any of it.

  Still, shouldn’t I have been angry with him for keeping something like that from me?

  Maybe. But instead all I felt was sorrow and an ache in the pit of my stomach. The way Ren had looked, ashamed and sad and guilty, made me feel awful. It ate a hole into my stomach and I wanted to comfort him, to assure him that it didn’t matter to me what his past was.

  I took a deep breath as the truth of it hit me. It really didn’t matter. I didn’t care what Ren had done or why he’d been in prison. I would ask him and if he wanted to tell me then fine. If he didn’t, I wouldn’t push him about it. All that mattered to me was who he was now. A good, sweet man who didn’t love me the way I loved him but made me feel loved anyway.

  “I can’t believe you thought your own mother would lie to you. You’ve always been too naïve and trusting. You think I smother you, but you need me, Rachel.”

  I blinked at my mother. I had almost forgotten she was there, even though she hadn’t shut up since Ren left.

  “I just knew if I left you to your own devices, you would screw this up. I can’t believe you were having relations with that man. Do you have any idea what you’ve done, Rachel? When word gets out that you slept with him, a bartender and a convict, my reputation will be destroyed in this town.”

  “His name is Ren and I love him.”

  My mother gaped at me. “Stop it. Stop being so difficult. Now, go and wash his filth off, and then you and I are going to see Father McRoy. You’re going to confess all of your disgusting -”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you, let alone to the church we haven’t set foot in since Dad left fifteen years ago.”

  My mother paled. “Don’t you talk about him.”

  “He left, Mom. He left the both of us and it’s time you get over it and stop interfering in my life. I know you’re lonely, I know you’re angry, but you need to figure out how to fix yourself and stop trying to fix me.”

  I walked toward her and cupped her arms, squeezing gently. “It’s not your fault that Dad left, okay? Stop beating yourself up about it and -”

  My mother yanked away from me and gave me a disdainful look. “Of course it’s not my fault. It’s yours. You were a terrible baby and an awful child, and all of my attention went to you. Your father cheated on me because I was too busy with you. If you’d been a good baby, a well-behaved child, then your father would never have left me. I would have had more time to see to his needs. I’ve been alone the last fifteen years because of you, Rachel.”

  For the second time in less than fifteen minutes, I was struck silent. I knew my mother had never gotten over my father leaving us, but I’d had no idea she blamed me. She was right – I was a naïve little fool.

  “You hate me.” My voice was dull and heavy. “All these years, you’ve actually hated me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve never hated you.”

  “But you don’t love me.” I stared up at her, my stomach churning when I saw the answer in her eyes.

  She looked away. “Get dressed. We’re going to church and you’re -”

  “Stop, Mom.” My voice was gentle and low. “Just stop.”

  She studied me for a moment and when she opened her mouth, I shook my head. “We’re done.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I love you, I do, but I can’t do this anymore. I need you to leave and not contact me again.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “I do.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “You ungrateful little bitch. All that I’ve done for you, all that I’ve given up for you, you’re going to just tell me that I don’t have the right to see you.”

  I nodded. “Yes. For now. Maybe in a few months -”

  “Months?”

  “Maybe in a few months, we’ll talk again. But right now, we both need space. Don’t call me, don’t text me, don’t come and see me. I won’t let you into the house.”

  “You’re abandoning your own mother for a man? A worthless -”

  “Don’t. Don’t call Ren worthless.” My voice was harsh, and my mother chewed at her bottom lip before giving me a smoking look of hatred.

  “You’re no better than your father. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it? You’re leaving me just like he did for nothing more than a bit of-of dirty, filthy sex.”

  I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t say anything. The venom and anger spewing from my mother had rendered me silent and I just wanted her to leave.

  I wanted to be free.

  “He’s a convict, Rachel! You can’t possibly want to be with someone like that.”

  “How did you find out?” I asked. “Did you hire someone to dig into his past or did you do the dirty work yourself?”

  “All you have to do is Google his name, Rachel! He’s a bad person and -”

  “He’s not. He’s a good man and I love him. I won’t apologize for that.”

  “He doesn’t love you. You’re not pretty enough for a man like him. He’s used to thin girls with pretty faces.”

  For the first time in my life, her jabs about my looks didn’t bother me. I may not have been thin, I may not have had a pretty face, but Ren wanted me. He wanted me, and he thought I was beautiful. There was no doubt in my mind about that.

  “Fine,” my mother suddenly spat. “I’ll do what you’re asking, but I hope you’re prepared to come crawling back to me on your knees when that awful bartender breaks your heart. When he tells you you’re fat and ugly and stupid. When he -”

  “He won’t say that to me,” I said. “You’re the only one who tells me I’m fat and ugly and stupid.”

  Her face flushed, and she straightened her shoulders before marching toward the kitchen door.

  “Mom?”

  She turned, her face already triumphant and smug.

  “The key. Give it back.”

  She hesitated, and I sighed. “I’ll just change the locks.”

  She dug in her purse and pulled out the key, throwing it on the floor in a fit of temper. “You’re going to regret this decision.”

  “Good-bye, Mom.”

  Chapter Seven

  Ren

  “You need to slow down.”

  I glared at Jack and deliberately tipped the shot of whiskey down my throat. It burned its way down my esophagus before joining the first two shots in my stomach.

  He rolled his eyes and put his feet up on my worn coffee table before taking a drink of beer. “Don’t give me that look. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit. You’re supposed to be at work but you’re home, sitting in the dark and getting drunk.”

  “I just wanted a night off. What’s the big deal?”

  “You never just take a night off. Stop being a dick and tell me what the fuck is wrong.”

  “How did you even know I was home and not at work?”

  “Jesus, the whiskey is making you stupid.” Jack took another drink of beer. “Lily and I stopped in at the bar for a drink. You weren’t there, I got worried.”

  “Now who’s the bullshitter?” I stared at the whiskey bottle, contemplating whether I should pour mys
elf another shot.

  “Fine. That waitress, the one who’s fucking Jacob Marken, what’s her name again?”

  “Madison.”

  “Right. She told me you and Rachel had a fight, and you didn’t come in to work.”

  “I’m firing her for telling you that.”

  Jack laughed. “Yeah, right. You’re so fucking soft-hearted, it makes me cringe. How the fuck we’re even friends, I’ll never know.”

  “You are an asshole.”

  “Don’t I know it.” Jack raised his beer to me. “But I’m the asshole who’s always had your back, so tell me what the fuck you fought with Rachel about. And Jesus, have you even fucked her yet? Tell me you have or I’m taking your goddamn man card away.”

  “We were together last night,” I admitted.

  “So, what? Your little pecker wasn’t enough for her and she got pissed?” He gave me a good-spirited grin. “Don’t feel bad. Not everyone can have a monster dick like ‘ole Jack.”

  He grabbed his crotch and despite how miserable I was, I couldn’t help but grin. “You’re such an asshole.”

  “Yep.”

  I stared at the bottle of whiskey again. “It was good. Really good, you know? She might have been a virgin, but she was so…she was incredible.”

  Fuck, I sounded like an idiot, but I didn’t know how else to explain it. After the third round of sex, Rachel had fallen sound asleep, but I had stayed awake like a love-struck fool and just stared at her. I was falling for her, and falling goddam hard, and I had no idea how to stop it.

  I didn’t want to stop it.

  I wanted Rachel. I loved Rachel.

  I cleared my throat. “Anyway, it was really good and the next morning I ran her a bath and cooked her breakfast and -”

  Jack laughed and held out his beer bottle to me again. “Pussy-whipped already.”

  I glared at him, but he gave me another good-natured grin. “Hey, welcome to the club. The other day, I fucking went clothes shopping with Lily. Held her goddamn purse and everything.”

  I laughed, and Jack shrugged. “It feels good to do something for the woman you love. Doesn’t it?”

  I nodded. “I love her, Jack. I do.”

  “Yeah, that’s been fucking obvious for the last three years. So, what happened?”

  “Her mother stopped by and told her I’d been in prison.”

  “Shit. How the fuck did she find out?”

  I shrugged. “I’m sure it wasn’t difficult. There were articles in the newspaper and online about it. The cops had been trying to bust Tony for a long time, so it was a big deal when they did.”

  “You were pretty low down on the chain,” Jack said. “For fuck’s sake, you only did four years.”

  “Yeah, but I’m sure my name was mentioned in at least one article.” I reached for the bottle of whiskey and poured a shot. I stared at the amber liquid. “Anyway, Rachel’s mother found out I was an ex-convict and she told Rachel.”

  “What did Rachel say?”

  “She wanted to know if it was true and I said yes.”

  “Then what?”

  “I left.”

  “What?”

  “I left.” I studied Jack over the shot of whiskey.

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean, why? You really think Rachel’s gonna want to be with me after this? The look on her face…”

  “What about it?”

  “She was shocked and upset.”

  “Angry?”

  I just shrugged. Truthfully, I had no idea if she’d been angry or not. My own anger at Rachel’s mother, my shame at Rachel finding out what a fuck-up I was, had made my memory of Rachel’s reaction a little fuzzy.

  Or maybe that was the whiskey.

  The doorbell rang as I lifted the shot to my lips. Jack glanced at my front door. “Expecting someone?”

  I shook my head. “Ignore it.”

  “You don’t need that shot,” Jack said as he stood up.

  Maybe I didn’t need it but I sure as fuck wanted it. “Don’t answer it,” I said when the doorbell rang again.

  Jack flipped me the bird and crossed the room to the door. I pressed the glass to my lips and then spit whiskey all over the coffee table when Jack opened the door and I saw Rachel’s sweet face. I wiped my mouth, jumping to my feet, as Jack grinned at her.

  “Hey, Rachel.”

  “Um, hi.” She gave him a nervous look. “You’re, uh, Jack, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I was looking for Ren. Is he home?”

  “He’s right here. Come on in.” Jack stepped back and grinned at me. I swallowed as Rachel stepped into my house. I had the immediate urge to pick her up and carry her directly to my bedroom. How many times had I fantasized about this moment? About having her in my bed, her scent in my sheets?

  My cock hardened, and I wiped my mouth again as Rachel gave me a small smile.

  “Hi, Ren.”

  “Hey.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip before glancing at Jack. “I just stopped in to, um… that is, if you’re busy…”

  “He’s not. I was just leaving.” Jack opened the door and before I could stop him, he was gone.

  “Um, hi,” Rachel said. She stared at my small living room. “I like your place.”

  “It’s not as nice as your place.”

  “No, it’s nice. Really nice.”

  I just shrugged and stared at the puddle of whiskey on my coffee table. “You want something to drink?”

  “No thank you.”

  “Why aren’t you at work?”

  “I worked until six and then asked Barb if I could leave early. Why aren’t you at work? Madison texted me and said you didn’t come in.”

  “I didn’t feel like going in,” I said.

  “May I sit down?”

  I shrugged again. “If you want.”

  I expected her to sit in the armchair. When she joined me on the small couch, sitting right next to me, the heat of her thigh against mine made me panic. I tried to move away, and she put one hand on my thigh.

  I groaned, I couldn’t help it. Just being near her had me so fucking horny, I couldn’t think straight.

  “Ren, look at me.”

  I didn’t want to, but I forced my gaze to hers. There was heat in it and my balls tightened when her hand rose higher on my thigh. “Do you know why I’m here?”

  I shook my head. I was mesmerized by the curve of her lower lip, the tip of her tongue as it darted out to wet the upper one.

  “I’m here because I never did get to thank you for making me breakfast this morning. I’m here to suck your cock.”

  “What?” My voice was full of hoarse disbelief. “What did you say?”

  She smiled, showing her even white teeth before wetting her lower lip this time. “Please let me suck your cock, Ren.”

  Her soft hand covered my crotch and I hissed out a breath when she rubbed my erection. She leaned in to kiss me and I pulled away, grabbing her hand and yanking it off my dick. “Stop.”

  “You don’t want me anymore?”

  I hated the hurt I could hear in her voice. “No. God, no, that’s not it.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  I stared at her in disbelief. What the hell was happening?

  “Let me suck your cock, Ren,” she repeated. My cock surged against my jeans and I winced at the pressure.

  “What are you doing, Rachel?”

  “I think I’ve made it perfectly clear.”

  “We can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because!”

  “Because, why?”

  Her voice was relentless. Just like her hand sliding up toward my cock.

  “Rachel, please.”

  Something in my voice must have upset her, because she pulled her hand away and crossed her arms over her torso as she blinked back tears. “I’m sorry about what happened with my mother. I took back her key so that won’t happen again. If you would giv
e me another chance, I swear we won’t keep getting interrupted by her. In fact, I’m not even talking -”

  “Rach,” I took her arms and gave her a gentle shake, “this has nothing to do with your mother interrupting us and everything to do with the fact that I’m an ex-convict.”

  “Oh thank God,” she said.

  I blinked at her. “Thank God?”

  “I thought you were rejecting me because we keep getting interrupted by my mother, like I’m a stupid teenage girl, not because of the convict thing.”

  “The convict thing? Rachel, I was in prison. Do you understand that?”

  “Yes.” She gave me a miffed look. “I’m not an idiot, Ren.”

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Why? Because you’re an ex-convict?”

  “Yes!”

  She rolled her eyes. “I don’t care about your past.”

  “What?”

  I knew my mouth had dropped open and I shut it with a snap when Rachel giggled and said, “Close your mouth, Ren, you’re gonna catch flies.”

  She took my hand and squeezed it. “That’s something my Dad used to say. Honestly, I don’t remember him very well anymore. I was eight when he left, but my mother burned all of his pictures and my memories of him have grown increasingly fuzzy over the years. It makes me feel bad, you know? That I can’t even remember his face. Sometimes I remember the sound of his voice, but even that’s fading.”

  She gave me a sad smile. “I don’t care what my mother says, it isn’t my fault.”

  “What isn’t your fault?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Just like your past doesn’t matter.”

  She took my hands and tugged on them. “Come on. Take me to your bedroom.”

  “Rach, no, I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “I’m not good enough for you.”

  “Bullshit.” She squeezed my hands again. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Ren Parker, and I’m not letting you go this easy. I don’t care that you’ve been in prison. Do you care that I stole a tube of mascara from the Walgreens when I was fifteen?”

  “It’s not the same.”

  She just shrugged and now it was my turn to squeeze her hands. “Don’t you even want to know what I did, or did your mother tell you?”

  “She didn’t tell me. She tried to, and I wouldn’t let her.”