He finally looks up at me. I take a breath, my fingers tangling in my lap. Everywhere? He’s been everywhere? Irritation claws at me.
“Well… I’m from Atlanta, too. I went to Decatur High School—”
“A public school?” he interrupts.
I wait a moment to answer him, my body heat rising. “Yes. I also went to Brenau University—”
“You went where?” he asks, his nose wrinkling.
“Brenau? It’s a women’s college—”
“Oh, a girls school,” he says, tapping his hand on the bar top and leaning back some on his stool. I smile thinly.
“It’s actually a private college.” It’s where I went before Rhode Island School of Design. Both are damn good institutions, and I’m proud of the fact I was accepted to them.
He actually rolls his eyes as he takes another drink of the beer, the one I paid for, and says, “Yeah, okay.”
I seriously need to get out of here.
He takes a moment to savor his beer. I stand, shouldering my purse. Anger is just simmering beneath the surface. I’ve never been treated so poorly in my life.
“Where are you going?” he asks, surprised.
“I’m going to go ahead and leave,” I say.
“Wait— you can’t just leave like this, in the middle of our date!” He has the nerve to raise his voice loud enough to get the attention of the men around us.
I wave my arm frantically at the bartender, not because he doesn’t see but more than likely because of the nerves racing through me. “I’d like to close out.”
A night with Diane would have actually been better than this.
The bartender must see my frustration from where he’s pouring drinks down the bar because he says, “You’re all set, it’s on the house.”
“Thanks!” I call to him and wish it came out less shaky. He’s literally my hero right now for not making me wait another second with the jackass who has already turned his back to me to ask a woman a few seats down if she wants a drink he just paid for.
I don’t even bother to correct him; he isn’t getting another second from me.
Rushing to get inside my car, I pull out of the parking lot, feeling completely sick over what just happened. Did that even happen? That was real, wasn’t it?
Disbelief consumes me as I blow out a breath and my car hits the interstate. I’m almost on autopilot driving through evening traffic while my mind is elsewhere, trying to forget what a miserable first date that was. I settle into my seat and try to calm down as I look at the time on the dashboard.
I don’t want to go home and be alone after that bullshit. I know there’s only one place I want to be right now, and only one guy’s smile I want to see…
Charlie
I found the perfect woman for you.
She’s going to be at the wedding.
Leaning forward on the bar with my head in my hands, I groan when I read my mother’s texts. I wish she’d just leave it alone. I don’t have the time, or the energy. I’m not ready for anything serious. She’s already text me twice since I left my parent’s house to come back to work.
“Well.” The barstool on the other side of the bar squeaks as she continues. “You look like you’re having an even worse day than I am.”
Grace’s soft voice makes a grin play on my lips. I raise my head slowly, still resting my forearms on the bar, and peek up to see the pretty blue eyes I knew would be there staring back at me.
“You have no idea,” I tell her as I push off the bar and stop mid response to my mother.
Grace turns her shoulder to me, the smell of her perfume wafting toward me. Her long hair falls off her shoulder and exposes more of the bare skin of her slender neck. All I can hear is the rustling in her purse while she looks for her card. This place is packed, but seeing her after the dinner I had tonight… it’s like no one else is here.
A small huff of a laugh comes from deep in my throat. Grace has a few habits, and one of them is that she always puts her tab on her card when she’s ordering food.
“The special?” I ask her. I walk backward toward the double doors that lead to the back.
She looks up at me, still hunched over her purse and smiles wide. “Of course.”
Chicken tenders and fries. It’s our special on Tuesdays, and Grace always gets the special. I call out to the back, pushing the doors open, then I grab her card to put the order through.
“What’ll you have to drink, sweetheart?” I ask, looking up at her from across the bar. I have to raise my voice, and I see a few of the men look over at me and notice her.
They’re regulars, and they go back to their food and drinks in no time, but I still feel a subtle rise of emotion. I don’t know what the emotion is, but I ignore it when she answers that she’ll have a pale ale.
“You got it.” I move to the bottled beers. She likes the lighter variety with a bit of citrus. One night she went through nearly every pale ale on a mission to find her favorite. The cap pops off, and I toss it into the trash before handing her the cool bottle.
“You want a glass?” I offer even though I’m sure she doesn’t.
Shaking her head, she answers “Nope,” and reaches for the beer. Her fingers brush against my hand, and a shock goes through me. A heated current, lights my blood aflame. There’s no reason for it. It was only the barest of touches, but holy hell the sparks were there.
A violent blush heats her face and I wonder if she felt it, too. I wait a second as she clears her throat and looks away, shier than normal, despite being dressed to the nines in some sexy outfit I've never seen before, some dark red pants and a light cream blouse.
“Charlie!” I almost flinch at the sound of my name, snapping me back to the present. Frankie calls my name from down the bar. He’s at the very end, but he didn’t have to yell so damn loud.
“Yeah?” I have to turn away from Grace to stride toward him, which is probably good all things considered with how she looked away when our fingers touched. My skin feels hotter with every second that passes. I want to turn around and I can feel her gorgeous eyes on me, willing me to look at her.
“One more?” he asks me, rather than tells me.
I lean against the bar and shrug. “Whatever you want.”
He nods as he pushes his empty beer bottle toward me. It takes me less than a minute to get him another drink.
The back doors creaks behind me, signifying Maggie coming out of the back, letting the one double door swing open and shut carelessly as she balances Grace’s order in her hands.
I'm quick to grab the plate with both hands to help Maggie out.
“I got it,” I tell her even as the skeptical look hits her eyes and tilted brow. Maggie wipes both of her hands on her apron and nods, the look not leaving her even as she leaves me to go back to the kitchen.
The smell of the fries and chicken and bacon wakes me right the fuck up. I’m still full from dinner, but I’m definitely going to snag a few fries from Grace.
A smile crosses my lips as I set the plate down in front of her, remembering the first time she ordered the Tuesday special. She practically threatened me if I didn’t eat a few fries with her.
It was the second night she came in here. I remember the first because she came with a friend. She’s almost Grace’s opposite. I remember thinking it didn’t make sense that the two of them would be friends. There was a third one with them, but she left early. Leaving the loud blonde and an embarrassed Grace.
The next night, Grace came back alone, and I have to admit I was curious about her. She must’ve overheard me tell someone I hadn’t eaten dinner yet.
That happens a lot when you’re managing so much. Time just slips by.
She called me over and said it was too much food for her. I politely declined, but she wasn’t having it. This sweet little thing told me I had to eat, and she’d tell my manager on me if I didn’t. I don’t think I’ve ever smiled so wide before.
She really is a sweethear
t.
“So you’re having a bad day?” I ask her. I pull my barstool over to her, grateful to sit down and think about something other than work and my mother’s text. If she’s not here by 6 maybe 6:30, I assume she’s not coming by. Sometimes she surprises me with a later arrival, like tonight. She’s here a little earlier than the rush and thankfully James actually came in tonight. I’ve got time and now a spare man for tonight. There was no way I was going to put him on the schedule without having back up in case he didn’t show. I told him there’s a three strike system now, he’s already got one down. He’ll either shape up, or ship out.
Grace rolls her eyes before grabbing a chicken tender. As she starts to talk, I realize I forgot the salt. That woman likes her salt.
“So I went out on a date tonight.” She lets out a heavy sigh as I leave her for all of three seconds to grab the salt and pepper, even though she won’t use it, and I feel my jaw clench a little tighter at the word, ‘date.’
The barstool tilts on two legs as I reach over and grab the one bottle of ketchup on this half of the bar and set it down in front of her.
“Thank you,” she says politely. She always covers her chicken tenders with salt. No ketchup, they’re for the fries. No barbeque sauce. Just a little salt.
“Oh yeah, a date? And who is this Prince Charming?” I’m surprised by the jealousy I feel as I look back at her gorgeous eyes while she cocks a brow as if to say, ‘you have no reason to be jealous’.
“It was awful,” she says comically and a genuine smile graces her lips as she lets out a huff of a feminine laugh. A wave of relief washes over me. Holding onto the edge of the barstool and spreading my legs a little wider, I listen to her tell me about this guy, Jason.
I steal a fry, and then another. Each time it only makes her smile more. After a few fries remind me how full I am from dinner I know I’m not really hungry, but I’m used to stealing a bit off her plate when she orders food. I guess we both have some habits now.
“And then what?” I ask her wanting to know more about this horrible date.
I wonder what it was like from his perspective. If he really saw her for who she is. The thought makes my heart do a small flip, but I barely notice as her hand absently brushes mine again and she leans in. The sparks are still there, but I’m better at hiding that it happened this time around.
“I can’t even tell you,” she states and she’s animated as she talks. “It was just something about him. He was so… so… arrogant and cocky. He was rude.” She purses her lips for a minute. “And he was definitely balding.”
Letting out a chuckle, I take in the bar with a smile. The floor’s covered, patrons are being served and Frankie’s going to need another in about five minutes.
My phone rings and I absently check it, forgetting that I was in the middle of a conversation with Ma before Grace came in.
I know you got the text, Charlie. I’m only trying to help.
Deleting what I was going to send before, I text my mom back: I know Ma. Love you and hit the side button on my phone, pushing off of the bar to get myself a water. I could really use a beer, but I learned a long time ago not to let that happen on the clock. I have to set an example. If you’re working, you’re not drinking.
“What’s wrong?” Grace asks. I grab a bottle of water from the built-in beverage refrigerator.
I don’t answer her right away. Instead, I twist the cap off and take a swig and then another. I should really grab a Coke; I need the caffeine. Giving her a one armed shrug, I set the bottle down below the counter and make my way back to the stool in front of Grace. My eyes travel to the clock on the side wall. It’s going to get busy real soon.
“It’s nothing. Just my mom checking in on me,” I say.
Grace’s expression doesn’t give much away, but she keeps looking at me. She cocks a brow, pressing me for more information.
An easy laugh rumbles up through my chest as I grab the bottle and take another sip. “My sister’s getting married, and my ma thinks she’s going to set me up at the wedding.”
Grace must get a real good kick out of that, judging by the huge smile on her face. I never noticed how perfect her smile is. Damn, those doe eyes light right up, too. They're shining with happiness as she claps her hands once and smiles.
“You think, it’s funny that she’s trying to hook me up with someone?” I tease her. “Better than OKCupid or whatever you’re using.”
Her eyebrows raise, and she purses her lips before taking another french fry and biting into it. She wags the half of fry left at me before admitting, “You’re probably right.”
It’s quiet for a moment, and my phone pings again.
We both look at it on the bar, but I don’t flip it over to see what Ma said. It’s probably just ‘I love you too’.
“You should probably answer her,” Grace says with a sly smile.
I steal two fries and shove them into my mouth, staring at her the whole time.
She gapes at me. She looks at the phone as if she’s going to take it, but she doesn’t. I like this more aggressive, competitive side of her.
She doesn’t push though, instead she takes a sip of her beer.
I reach for my phone, giving in and I don’t miss the smile on Grace’s face as she takes another a sip of her beer. There are actually two messages waiting for me:
I love you too. But seriously… She’s really nice, and available!
You should meet the girl Ma’s talking about.
That second one is from Ali. I toss the phone down onto the bar and let out a frustrated sigh. I know they’re only playing, and they’re only trying to help, but I’m not interested. A light goes off in my head, and I finally pick up the phone and type a response.
I’m already seeing someone. So I don’t need a date.
Not thirty seconds after setting the phone down does it go off over and over.
What?
Who?
When were you going to tell me about it?
Is she coming to the wedding?
“Oh my God.” Grace’s eyes go wide, although she can’t contain the wide grin on her face. “What did you tell her?”
Sitting up straighter on her stool, she leans over to look as another few text messages come in.
I watch her reaction as she scrolls through them delicately, just using her pointer finger and leaving the phone sitting on the bar. I’m taken aback when the smile falls from her face and she slowly sits back on her stool.
Why didn’t you tell me?
I don’t believe you…
Bring the girl to the wedding, or else!
“So you have a girlfriend?” she asks me softly. I’m not sure if I’m imagining the hurt there, or if it’s genuine.
I grab the phone and read the messages again as I answer. “No, no girlfriend.”
“So you lied?” The happiness comes right back as she bites down on her bottom lip, her eyes on me.
I let a small chuckle slip out. “Yeah. But now I’m screwed.”
“Just say she can’t come.” Grace shrugs, grabbing a fry and chewing at the end. She has no idea what how adamant my family will be to meet this new girlfriend. I can’t for the life of me think what I was doing. Maybe I’m just sleep deprived.
After grabbing Frank a beer and asking a few guests if they need anything, I head back to Grace with the inevitable truth: “They’re going to want proof.”
“What?” she says like they’re crazy.
“You didn’t grow up in a small town, did you?” I ask her. She has no idea what it’s like. When everyone knows everything, and word gets around faster than a forest fire in a drought.
She shakes her head, finishing off the fry and reaching for one of the last remaining fried pieces of deliciousness.
“I grew up in Ellijay. My family is nosy, but so is the whole town. Everybody knows everybody’s business.” I pause, considering. “I shouldn’t have told them I’m seeing someone.”
Grace sucks
on the tips of her two fingers quickly, most likely for that last bit of salt, and my eyes are drawn to her mouth. She doesn’t mean it to be sexual as she licks the salt clean, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t turn me on.
“Take a picture of us,” she offers with a nonchalant shoulder lift. “I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend for the picture and there’s your proof.”
She winks at me and grabs her beer, although that beautiful blush comes back with a vengeance.
It feels like a dare, and I’m happy to take it. I reach for the phone and scoot closer to her. Smiling, I snap a couple of photos.
As I sit back down on my seat I take a look at them; one is just right. She’s drinking her beer, although she’s smiling still. She looks sweet, happy even. I think Ma would like her.
“That’ll get them off your back,” Grace says. There’s that same dare hidden in her voice, but the effect is dimmed as she looks away and bites down on her bottom lip. My shy sweetheart.
As I hit send, Grace finishes off her beer. I don’t hesitate to get her another. I know she wants it.
This time when our fingers touch, I don’t let the bottle go. She tugs a bit harder, then realizes I’m messing with her. The smile lights up her face and the texts light up my phone on the bar.
Grace grabs it before I can, letting go of the beer.
Her mouth forms a beautiful “O” as she gapes at the screen. I can only imagine her lips wrapped around my cock like that. I shamefully adjust my hardening dick in my jeans as she points to the phone, completely unaware. Damn I want this chick. How have I not wanted her this bad before tonight?
“They really want me to come to the wedding,” she teases and her sweet laugh is music to my ears.
“It’s two weeks away,” I say and then take a sip of her beer. I shouldn’t, but it’s only one sip. And it’s hers. “You really want to play my girlfriend for two weeks and go to the wedding with me?”
I ask the question playfully, but there’s a serious hint hidden in there. A dare.
“What do I get?” she asks.
“What do you want?” My dick twitches in my pants at the thought of her answering with that desire I see in her eyes.
Knocking Boots Page 5
