I walk right over to the bar and sit down at the very end. It’s my seat. I look down the bar, but find the area behind it is empty. I wonder where the bartender is. There’s one special guy who could make today complete… if he’s working, that is.
Then a back door swings open, revealing him. Charlie, the owner of this bar.
He’s tall and broad-shouldered, with light brown hair cropped close to his scalp. He’s wearing a blue plaid shirt and jeans, but that doesn’t stop me from staring at his rippling muscles as he moves a stack of heavy-looking boxes behind the bar. Along with a jawline made for women to swoon over and twin brows that raise and lower with every emotion, he’s got a nose that’s just too perfect. It fits so well with his physique.
I bite my lip and blush. I know Charlie isn’t for me, really I do. I literally just found out that my time is running out to form a real connection with someone. It’s just… well, Charlie is hot.
The kind of hot that might keep a girl up at night, wondering just what’s under those jeans. Wondering if he’s as stacked as you hope he is…
If the other girls hanging around and looking at him wistfully are anything to go by, Charlie’s packing some serious heat. Then again, none of those girls have managed to nail him down.
And none of them were walking around, thinking of baby names in their spare time. Yep, I need to keep my hands to myself. My eyes, however…
A pleasant sigh leaves me as Charlie turns and sets the boxes down, giving me a good shot of his ass. It's perfect, nice and round. I swear, I never even noticed things like that before I met Charlie.
I chew my lip as I lean forward just a hair wondering if he does a lot of squats at the gym, or if his bubble butt is natural. Okay, maybe this is a little too much. Sitting back on the stool, I shake off my over active hormones and remind myself that he’s just a guy that is a part of this safe space I’ve made for myself to unwind.
He turns around just as I’m nodding to myself and catches me still looking at his rear. “Hey, stranger.”
Shit. I blush deep red, because I forgot the most stunning thing about Charlie: his eyes. They’re a kind of moss green color, something straight out of National Geographic.
“Hey,” I manage, the single word somehow coming out as two syllables, and I break off eye contact. I realize that my crush on Charlie is all it will ever be, a crush. I need to stop being such a weirdo.
I make eye contact again.
“Where have you been? It’s been a whole week since I’ve seen your face around here,” he teases.
“Oh. Just work,” I say with a shrug. “You know, the usual.”
“Yeah?” he says, grabbing a small worn hand towel and wiping off his hands. “That’s it, huh?”
“That’s it.”
His voice drops as he leans against the bar. “Nothing interesting to report?”
Somehow, he manages to make that sound filthy. God help me. There’s a charm about his raised brow and the way he looks expectantly at me. The fluttering in my chest needs to quit it.
“Nope.” I push my hair back off my shoulders, feeling a little hotter than I should.
“Too bad. I was looking forward to you telling me some tales.” He looks down the bar and nods to someone he knows. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Umm… something chilled with vodka but tastes fruity.”
“You got it.” With a pat on the bar from him, I smile broadly. That’s one of the reasons I love being here.
He moves down the bar to fulfill my order, and I nearly groan to see him go.
Yeah, it’s safe to say that I’m holding a bit of a torch for him. I know he’s not what I want — he’s hot, but completely allergic to commitment. It’s why I’ve never approached him like that. He knows I’m on the prowl, as he says, for a husband and someone to settle away from the city with. As he’s told me before, he has no intention of settling down. Still, there’s no law against looking, is there?
My chin fits right into place in the palm of my hand and I sigh to myself while I stare after him.
Charlie
Well, my day just got a whole lot better. Grace is one of my regulars, and a favorite customer. It helps that she’s hot as hell. I smirk as I fill the shaker with a shot of vodka and then a bit more and set the bottle back on ice behind the bar. Her smile’s a little weak but a drink or two and her sweet feminine laugh will come out easy enough.
“Charlie,” Mickey calls out to me. He’s another regular and the uncle of one of my employees.
I give him a nod, grabbing a tall glass and throwing the handle for the Guinness back to get Mickey another. He’ll be here all night, staring up at the college games on the televisions above me.
There are plenty of regulars, some of them like family. Grace isn’t like that. I don’t know how to describe her to be honest. I just know I like it when she’s here.
I slide him the beer, scooting it across the bar top. I’m half tempted to ask him where the hell his nephew is since he never showed up for work, but it’s not like he’d know. The bar is just outside the city and located in a small town. Bringing up business to Mickey isn’t going to help any. He’s a retired cop, and his wife passed away from cancer not too long ago. I’m not going to give him a hard time because his nephew doesn’t have a clue what work ethic is.
“Thank you, sir,” Mickey tells me, grabbing his beer. He doesn’t even look away from the game on television. Beer, football, and a crowded place keep him sane and help him deal with it all.
“Charlie!” Maggie calls out from behind me. She swings open the doors to the back and walks through as she throws on her apron. Thank fuck she’s here.
“Is the kitchen all set?” she asks. She puts her arms around her back, as she ties the apron.
“Yeah, it should be ready for you,” I tell her, grabbing the short iced down glass for Grace. I try to fight back my agitation.
James is really looking to be fired. I’ve absolutely had it with him getting drunk after closing and not showing up the next day. He’s young and stupid. I know what that lifestyle is like, since I used to be just like him, but I’m sick and tired of putting up with his shit.
I didn’t hire him so I could do the work of two men when one doesn’t show.
I’m fucking exhausted, and the night’s just getting started. But that’s what this business takes. Hard work and dedication. It’s not what I thought it’d be when I opened a bar at the outskirts of town. I know part of the reason I did it was to get away.
Part of it was to drown out the memory of the past with booze.
That was years ago though when I was dumb and stupid. Somehow I got lucky, and this damn bar is the only good thing I’ve got going for me now. I can’t let a little shithead like James screw things up.
“Thanks for coming in, Mags.”
I turn to look over my shoulder, but Maggie’s already gone. She's a hard ass and doesn’t need to be given praise, but I should give her a raise or a bonus. Good help’s hard to find in a small town where people think they can get away with this shit.
“Citrus and peach tonight?” I ask Grace.
I set the glass in front of her and wipe my hand off on my faded blue jeans. Her slender fingers brush against mine as she takes the glass with both her hands.
“Sounds delicious to me,” she says with a hint of a blush to her cheeks. “I need it.” I cock my head at her, waiting for her to elaborate.
“Things going okay?” She asks as her brows pinch, and she looks past me to the swinging double doors Mags went through. “Not that I’m trying to change the subject or anything… you just seem like something’s off.”
I shrug and lean my hip against the bar as I pick up a rag to wipe things down. I let out a deep breath and try to shrug it off, but Grace looks at me pointedly, taking a sip and smiling before setting the glass down. I don’t know why, but it makes me smile too.
“It’s really good,” she tells me and sways slightly. She does that, rocking gen
tly when she decides to get comfortable.
“A new hire didn’t show up is all,” I answer Grace without thinking.
I’m relaxed as I do a quick scan, making sure no one’s glass is empty and I’ve taken care of everyone so far who’s come in. Rick will be here soon to help and with Mags in the back we should be good for tonight, but the last two hours have been hell doing it all on my own. The wet rag in my hand glides down the bar easily, soaking up the spilled beer. I sealed and lacquered the oak bar myself. This bar is my baby. And James doesn’t respect it, or his job.
“Uh oh,” she answers playfully and I give her a scolding look that grants me a laugh from her. “I’d be pissed too,” she says finally.
She smiles into her glass when I grunt a response and prepare another beer for a customer in the back.
My gaze lifts to Grace’s as she hums; her warm breath creates a fog on it before she takes a sip. She moans soft and sweet, loving the taste. I know it’s an innocent move on her part, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t make my dick hard as stone.
Grace has got something about her that makes her easy to talk to. Maybe it’s because she’s not from around here, so I know nothing I say is going to be used against me later on. People in this town talk, and it drives me up the damn wall.
It takes a moment to drop the beer off and ask the other patrons if they’re doing alright or if they need anything.
“You going to fire him?” she asks when I finally get back to Grace.
Her fingers slip up and down creating a line in the dew of her glass. I don’t think she’s doing it intentionally, but that simple innocuous movement is making my already hard dick twitch with need. I’ve had plenty of nights to try to take her home, but those nights have held conversations about what she’s looking for in a man and how she’s finally wanting to settle down.
AKA exactly the reason I don’t want to take her home. It would kill me if we hooked up and she had regrets about it. We’re friends in the making. Nothing more.
My head shakes at her question; I don’t trust myself to speak. I wouldn’t fire James. His aunt was one of my teachers all throughout high school. His parents live not five houses down from my parents. Little shit knows it, too.
“Well maybe you should make him wash the dishes when he comes in then,” she answers with a shrug that makes her buttoned-up blouse slip open just slightly. “Or have him rearrange all the boxes in the back?”
I can’t help that my eyes dart down to her cleavage even as I chuckle at her suggestion. It’s a modest top, probably perfect for that office job she’s got. But right now, it’s giving me a teasing glimpse and I want to see more.
“I am-” I tell her as I see Mickey waving me down. “Soon as he gets in here, no bartending, all dishes and grunt work.” I’m half playing, half-serious. The grill in the back needs to be scrubbed down, along with all the equipment, and that’s James’ payback. That and I have to cut back his hours until I’m sure he’ll actually show up during rush hours. She laughs that sweet, soft sound I know is genuine. I tap the bar with a smile as I walk to the other end to Mickey.
“Can you get me some wings?” he says as he pats his stomach. His shirt strains as he stretches backward. The buttons on his shirt gape and are showing a bit too much but only when he stretches back.
“Ranch on the side?”
He nods, “That’ll do it.”
“Course, Mickey.” I open the double doors just a touch and call out to Mags. “An order of wings, hot.”
I look back to make sure Mickey wants his usual. This bar’s become a routine for him, just like it has for a lot of the town.
He nods his head, and I don’t even hesitate to walk right back to Grace. It’s become a natural habit of mine when she’s here.
Most of the guys in here want to get away. They want a place to watch the games, to drink, to chat with their friends they came with. Grace comes alone most of the time. She sits by herself, and I’m the only one she talks to unless someone sidles up beside her. I like it that way. It’s like she comes here just for me.
Inwardly I scoff at myself and remember a number of nights where she seemed to make best of friends with a stranger for an hour or two.
She wants company, to talk, to laugh, to forget about all her problems. I want that too.
That’s all it’s ever going to be though. She’s told me more than once about the dates she’s been on and the guys she’s meeting up with. And not a damn one of them is a country boy with a reputation like mine.
I think she knows enough about all the shit I’ve been through. The whole damn town does… although, she’s not from Vinings, so I don't think she knows the whole story. Plus, she’s asked about my dating life before. I didn’t give her much, but I told her the same thing I tell every woman. I’m not interested in settling down. Not now. Possibly not ever. I’m pretty certain I told her that on night one.
Either way, she's ready for the whole nine yards. She had no problem telling me that and making it clear she wasn’t into one-night flings. Although, I’m not sure if she told me that more to remind herself, or to make me keep my distance. If it was the latter, she failed miserably. It only made me want her more. I’m not interested in all that shit she wants though. I’ve hardly got time for myself, let alone a family. But I fucking love flirting with her. Maybe it’s because I know I can’t have her. It’s the challenge.
“So how’s your day going?” I ask. “Hopefully better than mine.”
I grab the stool from behind me and pull it closer to her to take a seat. It’s dinner time now, so the evening rush won’t come till later. I’m going to need my energy then.
“Eh.” Grace makes a cute scrunched up face and takes another drink with her eyes closed tight.
“That bad, huh?” I ask her with a grin. I love how animated she is, how she wears her emotions on her sleeve. She really is a sweetheart.
“Yeah, it was rough,” she admits, looking away.
She puts her glass back down on the bar and lets her fingertips glide along the edge and my smile falls.
Leaning back on the stool, I stretch and run my hand over my hair. “Sorry your day was shit. You need me to go have a word with your boss?”
My joke makes her smile at least, but she shakes her head gently with her eyes closed.
“I don’t think that would help,” she says softly and then focuses those baby blues on me. She has the kind of eyes a man can get lost in. They're a pale blue with tiny golden flecks that lure me in. She jokes, “Least I’m not doing dishes.”
That’s my girl.
Her voice is a bit choked up at the end though, which is unusual for her. She’s quick to lift the drink to her lips, I think to try to hide it. She’s been coming in here for a while. I’m getting used to looking forward to her coming in and chatting with me, but the look on her face right now is making my chest hurt for her.
“You can tell me if you want.” My offer goes unanswered for a moment and I scan the room casually, not putting any pressure on her. Luckily, she starts talking before I meet her baby blues again.
“I went to the doctor today.” She taps the bar as she talks, staring where her fingers play along it. “My eggs decided to boycott so I can’t have kids.” She takes in a shuddering breath and then rolls her eyes, playing it off and shaking her head. “Well, not the traditional way anyway. And they’ll be expensive as fuck if I do have them.”
“You alright?” I ask her. I watch the raw vulnerability as it's replaced with a mask of lightheartedness.
“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just unexpected.” She finally looks me in the eyes as she adds, “I’m gonna start a bill for each one now so they can cover these fertility treatments. They can pay me back after they graduate.” She laughs at her joke, and I let out a huff of a chuckle just to make her feel more at ease. Fuck, it hurts though to see the pain in her eyes.
“Sorry,” I tell her sincerely. I’ve never even thought about kids. With the bar,
I don’t have the time, even if I wanted them.
“Don’t be. I just got the news, so I’m all flustered, but I will figure it out.”
“I can imagine.” No I can’t. But I think what I’m saying is comforting.
A few more guys and a couple come in and take me from her, but I keep my eye on her glass. I'm waiting for it to empty, so I have a reason to get back to her. The beer flows easily as the orders continue to come in. UGA is playing, and most of the bar is rooting for wins, which means Mickey buys the guys in the back a round of shots.
All the while Grace spins slightly on her stool and occasionally checks her phone. Mostly she just stares directly ahead of her at nothing in particular, a vacant look in her eyes and her lips turned down slightly. It gets busier and busier, but all I want is for her to call me over to her or finish that last bit of her drink.
I check with her a few times, but she waves me off with a small smile. Each time she’s just as welcoming and tempting as the last. But work calls, stealing me from her and leaving her alone in the bar. Every time I peek up, I see a sadness behind those big blue doe eyes that I don’t like seeing.
Time passes quickly and before I know it, she’s taking out her clutch and leaving cash on the bar. The second I see her put the money down, I stop pouring the draft beer in my hands and call out to her over the hum of loud voices.
“You need a ride?”
She smiles back at me and shakes her head no, but that happiness on her face makes it worth it.
I slide the beer down to the very end of the bar, forgetting which one of the two men sitting there ordered it, and walk over to check her out. I grab the cash and turn to go to the register, but she tells me to keep the change. She always does.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” I tell her and watch as she spins in her seat.
“I bet you call all the ladies sweetheart,” she tells me playfully, but her words are a kick to my gut.
“Just you,” I tell her, trying to keep my voice chipper and not let on.
“Yeah, okay,” Grace says as she tries to get off the stool. She seems a little off balance, so I make my way around to her and I’m damn glad I did. She slips off the stool and nearly stumbles. I catch her in my arms and hold her upright as she struggles to slide her small foot back into her heel. Her hands are firm on my forearms until she’s got her balance back.
Knocking Boots Page 2
