Ryan

My angel was keeping something from me, and I knew it. What it was exactly, I had absolutely no idea, but I was determined to figure it out.

As I made my way back to work, I found myself actually wanting to talk to my brothers to get their advice. I also hoped that both of their girlfriends would be there too so I could get a woman’s perspective as well.

I was screwed. This was what I’d turned into. Within the span of a twelve-hour period, I’d become completely infatuated with someone I knew nothing about. Was that why she drove me so crazy, because of the mystery and intrigue?

Shaking my head, I searched my thoughts and feelings to be sure that this wasn’t some kind of sick game I convinced myself I needed to play. I wasn’t the kind of man who toyed with women’s emotions, no matter what they might say about me. And the last time I had been so bent out of shape over a woman was . . . hell, never? I couldn’t remember ever feeling quite this way before.

Pulling the heavy bar door open, I stepped into my second home. Thankfully, the evening crowd was somewhat thin, and I spotted Claudia and Jess sitting together at a back table.

I thought about heading straight for them before I realized that I should see what damage Frank and Nick had done to my bar in my absence. We were all equal partners, but behind the bar was my domain. Nick ruled the social media and marketing. Frank ran the finances and the books. The bar, the drinks, the concocting of new and amazing cocktails, that was all me. All mine.

“How’s the old man?” Nick asked as he wiped down a glass.

“Ornery as ever.”

Frank glanced over at me. “So he’s okay?”

“I think so. He didn’t tell me much, except that I’d better see him again tomorrow and bring him some pants.” I made a face, and Nick howled.

“He cracks me up,” Nick said through his laughter.

“I don’t know what the hell is so funny about me bringing the guy pants.”

Frank grinned at me. “You do realize that everyone bosses you around, right?”

My eyes narrowed in response. “Whatever. What the hell have you two done to my bar?”

I scanned the liquor bottles displayed behind the bar, noting how some of them were out of place, in the wrong order and facing the wrong direction. I groaned, muttering amateurs as I went behind the bar to fix it all.

“He’s still grouchy,” Nick said, talking about me but not to me.

Frank nodded. “I told you. It’s the girl.”

They were obviously trying to goad me, which was one of their favorite things to do. As much as I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction, I needed their help, so I had to suck it up.

I stopped rearranging the bottles and turned to face them. “Can you guys be serious for two seconds and actually help me, or are you gonna be assholes all night?”

Frank opened his mouth to respond, but Nick put his hand below his jaw and closed it before he could speak.

“We’ll be nice,” Nick said, and Frank glared at him. I wondered for a second if he was going to lose it, but he stayed calm.

“Probably need the girls for this one.” I tilted my head in the direction of their girlfriends.

“Love of my life,” Nick shouted across the bar, and Jess’s blond head popped up in response, a big smile on her face. “We need you.”

Instead of chastising Nick like I expected, Frank yelled to his girlfriend, Claudia.

“You too, gorgeous.”

I just stood there, dumbfounded at the turn of events. A year ago, Frank would have been yelling at both of us, calling us names because he was so damned miserable himself. But now, instead of reacting the way I’d grown accustomed to, he was acting . . . like a man in love. It was as sickening as it was fucking adorable. I couldn’t even hate him for it, no matter how badly I wanted to.

Both women hopped up from the table and hurried toward us. Drinks in hand, they climbed onto stools at the bar, their gazes pinging between the three of us in anticipation. I couldn’t help but laugh at how serious they looked.

Claudia’s brown eyes widened. “What is it?”

“Are we in trouble?” Jess asked. “Ooh, I sort of hope we’re in trouble,” she teased before waggling her eyebrows at Nick and nudging Claudia with her elbow.

Claudia elbowed her back, then turned serious. “Wait. Is everything okay?” Her gaze swung to Frank before she looked at me, concern filling her features.

Frank shrugged. “Don’t ask me. He’s the one who wanted a family powwow.”

He nodded toward me, and both women softened at the word family. But that’s what they were. Claudia and Jess were the women my brothers were going to marry and spend the rest of their lives with. They’d eventually be my sisters-in-law someday, and that made us family. The realization made me smile, but I fought it off because this was serious.

“Okay, listen, I need your help. Or just your opinion.” I held up one finger, asking for a moment of patience, then took care of the last two remaining customers before asking my brothers if we could close the doors a little early. The bar was dead, and I knew they wouldn’t oppose the idea.

Once the customers had cleared out and the doors were locked, I resumed my position behind the bar and faced the girls. “So I met this girl,” I said, and when both Jess and Claudia squealed, I rolled my eyes. “Before you get too excited, you need to know that she hates me.”

“Impossible. No way,” the girls said immediately, talking over each other.

“My best friend’s in love with you,” Jess said, meaning her friend Rachel.

“Mine too,” Claudia added, talking about her best friend, Britney.

“See? Everyone loves you, Ryan. No way this chick hates you,” Nick said before walking toward Jess. He picked her up and sat on her bar stool before placing her on his lap. It was downright adorable, but everything the two of them did was like that. She slipped one arm around his neck nuzzled into him, her blond hair spilling over his shoulder as she pressed her cheek to his.

“She hates me,” I told them. “She said that she met me before, which is why she won’t tell me her name or go out with me.”

“Why won’t she tell you her name?” Claudia asked, her face crinkled in confusion.

“She said she’s already told me.”

Claudia nodded in understanding. “So, she’s been in here?”

“Yeah. She said she’s been here once before.”

“Only once?” Jess asked.

“That’s the impression I got.”

The girls glanced at each other in some secret unspoken communication that only females understood, then Claudia said, “You don’t hear the way women at the bar talk about you.”

“Yeah, they say some crazy shit, Ryan,” Jess added.

“Like what?” I asked. Not because I didn’t have a general idea of what they said, but I didn’t know exactly what women talked about while I was working. I couldn’t hear most of the things they said when the bar was hopping.

Jess rolled her eyes. “They talk about dating you, sleeping with you, how you’re a tiger in the sack. They formulate plans on how to get you. Typical crazy-girl shit.”

“They say that about me too, don’t they?” Nick asked, and Jess smacked his shoulder.

“They’d better not,” she said seriously, and Nick smirked at me. Idiot.

Claudia shot Frank a look. “Don’t even think about asking me that.”

He laughed, his hands in the air. “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”

“I don’t see how any of that has to do with this girl hating me,” I said, trying to bring the conversation back on topic. I wanted to understand what it was that I could have possibly done to this girl, and how I didn’t even remotely remember it.

“Pretend for a second that you’re a twenty-something-year-old woman,” Claudia said before stopping abruptly. “Is she twenty-something? I just assumed.” She cocked her head, her dark hair falling over her eyes before she tucked it behind her ear.

“I think so. She looks early twenties, I guess,” I said with a shrug.

“Okay, so pretend you’re a woman in your twenties and you’re actually not looking for a one-night stand—” She stopped as my brothers both faked gasps. “It’s been known to happen. We’re not all looking to hook up and break up in the same night. Some of us want to find good guys.”

“I am a good guy,” I mumbled under my breath before she waved at me to be quiet.

“So you’re in this bar and you see this guy,” she said, “you know, you. You’re the guy she’s seeing, Ryan.”

“Right, ’cause I’m the girl in this scenario,” I said, following along.

“Sounds about right,” Frank added, and I took a step toward him to punch his chest, but he jumped back out of reach.

“Anyway,” she drawled out, glaring at Frank. “You see this guy and you think he’s cute and he’s flirting with you, making you feel special, and you think that maybe there might be something more there. But then you hear him talk to all the women in the bar that way. And you hear what all the women in the bar are saying about him.”

Jess held up a hand. “Yeah. You hear them talk about sex, and whether it’s true or not, you just assume that it is, because why else would so many women be saying the same things if they weren’t? And then you realize he’s just like every other guy in LA, so you feel dejected and disappointed. And no matter what he does from that point forward, there’s no un-hearing all the things you’ve heard.”

“Yeah. He’s kind of ruined to a girl who’s looking for something serious,” Claudia said, wrapping up her theory. “I mean, if that’s what she’s looking for. Or if that’s the kind of person she is. I’m only guessing here and projecting how I would feel if it were me.”

I bristled, rising to my own defense. “But what if the things they’re saying aren’t true? How is that fair to me?”

Nick gave me a knowing look. “You take your shirt off every night. Not the best defense there, brother.”

I scowled, still thinking about what Claudia and Jess said, torn between being pissed off and feeling a little sorry for myself.

“So, how do I change her mind?” I asked, and smiles crept across both the girls’ faces.

• • •

“You brought me flowers? You shouldn’t have,” Grant said when I walked into his room carrying an armful of colorful tulips. It looked like a box of crayons had exploded in my fist.

“These aren’t for you.” I narrowed my eyes and gave him a fake dirty look before tossing him the items he’d requested from his house.

“Then why’d you bring them into my room? Just to tease me?” He reached for the pants and the hat before smiling. “You’re just a regular heartbreaker, aren’t you, boy? Showing up here with flowers that aren’t even for me.”

I shook my head. “Has she been here already?”

“Has who been here?”

Grant knew exactly who I was referring to, but he refused to give me a straight answer as a sly smile spread across his lips. If he wanted to play games with me, then I’d play.

“You know who.”

“Oh, you mean my angel?”

Not this again. “No, I meant my angel. Has she been here today?”

He laughed, knowing how much this conversation was riling me up. “She’s my angel, my fiancée, and my future wife.”

As he continued to torment me, my body filled with jealous heat. Hearing those words, no matter how untrue they were, still caused a physical reaction inside me that I couldn’t control. The old man was claiming her, and I was about to explode into a thousand shards of glass. I didn’t understand it, any of it, but I didn’t question it either. Whatever it was that I was feeling, whatever insane and irrational thoughts and feelings filtered through my mind and body, I allowed.

I glared at Grant, whose sly smile had now turned into a full shit-eating grin. “Just tell me if she’s been here or not, old man. Spit it out, already.” I held my breath for only a second. “Or maybe you don’t remember. Is that it? Your mind fading already?”

I must have pushed him a smidge too far, because he looked around for something to throw at my head. Again. Between him and Frank, I was always ducking the crap being tossed at me. Maybe I was the problem? Nah, that couldn’t be right. It was their tempers and short fuses that made them want to pummel me with things every chance they got.

“She hasn’t been here yet today, asshole. But I’ll tell you this, she doesn’t like you much.”

I relaxed a little at his admission and the fact that there wasn’t anything within his reach to throw at me. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“She likes me a lot. A hell of a lot more than she likes you.” He let out a gruff laugh, enjoying bringing me pain. “You think you can steal my angel from me with a few flowers? You’ve got a lot to learn, boy.”

Glancing down at the flowers that I held on to like a lifeline, I shook my head, unwilling to let Grant deter me. He was only teasing me, but every word was like a razor blade slicing through my flesh. Little nicks here and there, and before you knew it, I’d be bleeding out all over the stark white floor.

“What do you suggest then?”

He cleared his throat and faked a cough like he hadn’t heard me right. “Did you, dyin’ for Ryan, just ask for my advice?”

Now it was my turn to choke out a cough. #DyinForRyan was one of the hashtags women posted when they talked about the bar. “How do you know about that?”

“I don’t live in a cave. I’ve seen them all. #DyinForRyan. #FishWish, whatever the hell that means. #SpankMeFrank. #LickedByNick. I can’t believe the gumption of the women these days.” He sounded part disgusted and part impressed.

“Do you have a Twitter account?” I shook my head, unable to picture it.

“Instagram.”

Grant’s response was so deadpan, I had no idea if he was serious or not. I cocked my head, raising one eyebrow, letting him know so before he laughed.

“I don’t really know how to use it,” he admitted, “but I downloaded it after being in your bar. Wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Turns out I wasn’t missing much.”

“I’ll make sure to pass that along to Nick.”

“I’ll tell him you were lying,” he shot back.

“You gonna stop fighting with me over every single thing?”

“Probably not.” He faked a yawn, pretending like my company bored him. “You ever going to put those flowers down?”

“Probably not.”

“She won’t want your damn flowers, you know.”

“She might not think she wants them, but she does.”

Glaring at me, he said, “She’d want them if they were from me.”

Grant started to cough, slapping at his chest to get it to stop. I wasn’t sure that sort of thing was even effective, yet we all did it.

“Then you should have gotten off your ass and bought her some,” I told him.

This time he did find something to throw at me. A Sharpie flew through the air and hit me in the stomach before bouncing off and pinging to the floor. I didn’t even attempt to grab it, even though I could have easily caught it with one hand.

I let Grant have his moment of satisfaction, striking me with flying objects, before I bent down to pick it up.

Where the hell did he get a Sharpie from, anyway?