Mona’s was slammed Saturday night. With Jax already at Shepherd University in West Virginia with Calla, we were a man down when it came to the bar. Clyde was still out of commission due to doctor’s orders after suffering a heart attack last month. Sherwood, our part-time cook, was running around like a madman.
We were so busy I barely caught the moment Nick slid his phone number scribbled on one of our new napkins to a girl in cut-off jeans.
“Another one bites the dust,” I sang as I shimmied past him to grab two beers.
His eyes narrowed on me.
I giggled as I spun back, placing the bottles on the bar. The two guys waiting looked legit and normal, dressed in dark jeans and plain shirts, but I knew they didn’t run in the friendliest of circles. I’d seen them both with Mack, who’d worked for a guy in Philly named Isaiah, who everyone in and near the city knew to stay away from. Worked as in the past tense, because over the summer, Mack had ended up with a bullet to the head on a lonely back road. From what I gathered, he’d been the one messing with Calla, threatening her over what her mom had gotten into, and Isaiah hadn’t been too keen on the unwanted police attention being thrown his way.
So I smiled brightly up at them. “On the house.”
The older one with coal-black hair winked. “Thanks, darling.”
I figured it was a good idea to have potential mobsters in your back pocket. Never knew when one needed someone to take a cement swim. Ha.
I was guessing Reece was working, so completing Priority Number Four was on hold. I’d be a liar, liar, pants on fire if I said I wasn’t relieved, because I was so dreading that moment of truth. And I had his phone number, so I could’ve totally texted him and asked to meet up. Or I could’ve texted him the truth.
But that would’ve been so lame I’d have to give myself a cement swim.
Good news was I wasn’t really dwelling on it, since I was bouncing from one customer to the next, racking up tips. It was after midnight when I looked up from making a wicked sex on the beach and saw Dean standing at the corner of the bar.
Oh crap.
The moment I looked up, he saw me. Duh. I was standing right there and he was looking right at me. Briefly, I considered diving behind the service well.
“Hey,” he said, finding what had to be the only unoccupied bar stool in the world. “Busy tonight.”
I could feel heat creeping into my face. I so had not responded to his text earlier. After Mom had left, I’d forgotten about it. “Yeah, it’s been a really busy . . . day.” As I placed the pineapple juice back, I winced. A day so busy I didn’t have time to send a text? Lame. When I faced him, I kept my bar smile firmly in place. “What can I get you?”
He blinked slowly. His eyes were blue, not as vibrant as Reece’s—dammit! I was not thinking about his eye color. “Um, a Bud would be great.”
Nodding, I quickly hurried off to grab him a beer. On the way back, Nick raised his brows at me but said nothing. I slapped a napkin on the bar and placed the beer on it. “Tab or pay as you go?”
Again, he blinked and then leaned back, fishing out his wallet. “Pay now.” He slipped a ten over. “Keep the change.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, wanting to leave the money on the bar, but there was rent and that new set of watercolors I wanted to get, so . . . Taking a deep breath, I glanced up at him as I folded my hand over the cash. “Look, Dean, I had a really good—”
“Hey! Roxy-moxy, my girl!”
My bones nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of Katie’s voice. I turned, surprised that she’d been able to sneak in. Then again, the bar was that crowded, and she was actually dressed down tonight. Kind of.
Katie worked across the street at the gentlemen’s club. In other words, she was an exotic dancer and loved every minute of it. Normally she was wearing something that most wouldn’t even consider wearing out in public. Tonight, her long legs were encased in bubble-gum pink leather and her halter top was like a purple disco ball.
Dean eyed her like she was an alien who had just strolled into the bar.
“Yo,” I recovered quickly, and out of habit, grabbed the bottle of Jose and a shot glass. “How’s work tonight?”
Elbowing her way between an older woman and Dean, she squeezed into the miniscule space. “So boring I almost fell asleep while sliding down the pole.”
“That would’ve ended badly.” I poured the shot.
“So, you’re off on Sunday, right?” Dean cut in, clamping his arms close to his sides as if he were afraid of touching Katie and catching something from her.
I did not like that.
Katie snickered as she curled fingers with an icy blue manicure around the shot glass. “She is off, but she ain’t going to be spending it with you unless your last name is Winchester.” She arched a brow as she checked him out, and my mouth dropped open. “And you are so obviously not Dean Winchester.”
“Excuse me?” he sputtered, his cheeks flushing red.
“What?” She shrugged tanned shoulders. “Honey, I’m just telling you in a nice way you don’t stand a chance with her.”
“Katie,” I hissed.
Dean turned to me.
“Awkward,” murmured Katie.
I shot her a look.
She pursed her lips, kissed the air, and then downed the shot of tequila in one gulp. “Remember what I told you.” She slammed the glass on the top, and the woman next to her watched her back her way out of the spot with raised brows. Katie tapped her finger off the side of her head. “You’ve already met the man you’re going to spend the rest of your life with.”
Oh dear. I so remembered her telling me that I’d already met the love of my life, basing it on the psychic powers she claimed she developed when she fell off a greased-up pole while dancing.
These kinds of things only happen to people I know.
I was highly doubtful—or at least hopeful—that I hadn’t met the love of my life yet, but that wasn’t the only thing she told me. One of the things she had told me had come true.
And it had to do with Reece.
Katie made a face at Dean’s back. “And it ain’t him. Anyway, Roxy-moxy, we still on for waffles for lunch tomorrow?” When I nodded, she wiggled her fingers. “Toodles.”
Sort of struck stupid, I watched her prance her way out of the bar. I’d known Katie for a long time, but she still managed to throw me for a loop.
“There is something wrong with that girl,” Dean said, voice razor-edged with irritation. “I don’t know how you deal with her.”
My gaze swung on him. “There’s nothing wrong with her at all.” His eyes flared with surprise. “I’m sorry, but I’m pretty busy right now.”
He did that blinking thing. “It’s okay. We’ll talk later.”
I opened my mouth to tell him that wasn’t going to happen, but he pivoted around and disappeared into the crowd. Shaking my head, I moved to the other side of the bar. I didn’t have to say a word to Nick, because he switched sides and I threw myself into filling orders. Sometime later, I glanced up and awkwardly made eye contact with Dean. After that, I didn’t see him.
The rest of the night zoomed by. We did final call, and then cleared out the bar before we cashed out tips and settled the register. Normally when Nick and I did this together, we did so with nothing but music to keep us company. Usually I’d find the most annoying song known to man and play it, but I wasn’t really feeling it tonight.
And apparently Nick was in a chatty mood. “Who was that guy who was in here talking to you?”
I shut the register door and scribbled the totals on the spreadsheet Jax had created. One day, Mona’s would grow up to be a real bar and we’d get a POS system. A girl could dream. I sighed as I faced him, leaning against the bar while he cleaned up. “He was just some guy I went out on a date with.”
“Only going to be one date?”
I shrugged. “Yeah. Not interested.”
Flipping the towel he was using over his shoulder, he walked over to me. “Is he going to be a problem?”
Both of the boys—Jax and Nick—could be a wee bit overprotective, as could Clyde. “No, he won’t be a problem. I think he got the message tonight.” I cocked my head at him. “Besides, I’m not your little sister and you’ve got to run all the boys off.”
“I don’t have a little sister.”
“Whatever.”
“I have a younger brother, though.” He placed his hands on either side of me and dipped his chin. As close as we were, I could see that his eyes were more green than brown. And holy mother of pearls, we were as close as My Little Ponies. “And Roxy, I do not see the word sister when I think of you.”
“Oh?” My glasses started to slip down my nose.
“I’d totally get with you,” he announced. Just like that. Bam. Right in my face.
My eyes widened as shock jolted through me. Never in a gazillion years had Nick shown any interest in me. “Um . . .”
His lips curled up in a half grin. “But then I couldn’t work here anymore, so that isn’t going to happen. I’d probably make an exception for you, but that’s not the main reason why I wouldn’t . . .” He moved one hand and tapped the tip of my nose. “Go there with you.”
I stared at him a moment, flattered, and . . . yeah, dumbfounded. “Thanks. I think.”
He winked and then pushed off the bar. Grabbing the towel off his shoulder, he picked up a spray cleaner and spritzed the bar top. It took a moment for my brain to start working again. I fixed my glasses.
“Well, I’d . . . totally do you, too, but then it would just be awkward.”
Nick chuckled.
“So . . . you really, truly just hook up with chicks and then never see them again?” Curiosity might’ve killed the cat, but it was my best friend.
“I don’t do commitments.”
“Seeing someone more than once isn’t a commitment,” I reasoned with what I thought was valid logic. “I mean, I can almost get not hooking up with someone more than once, but seeing them?”
He looked over his shoulder at me. “It’s just the way I am.”
“Okay,” I murmured, shaking my head. “Aren’t you just a heartbreaker?”
A snicker was my only response. We finished up shortly after what I was considering to be a really weird night at Mona’s. I had the keys, so when Nick opened the door, I wasn’t paying attention to what was outside. I was busy struggling with the lock, and first thought the low chuckle that rumbled out of him had to do with me. It was when I dropped the heavy key ring in my purse and turned around, that I saw what he was laughing at.
“Wha . . . ?” I trailed off as my heart began pounding.
There was a county cruiser parked next to my car and there was a really freaking hot cop propped against the passenger side, long legs crossed at the ankles and arms folded across a yummy chest.
Reece was waiting.
I wasn’t really thinking about my list of priorities as I stared at him in the dimly lit parking lot. The muggy night air settled over me as he unfolded his legs and pushed off the cruiser. My gaze roamed over him. I was really just thinking about how the polyester material of his work pants moved along his thighs.
God, he walked with the kind of lethal grace that should be illegal.
Nick leaned in and whispered in my ear, “And right there is the main reason why I wouldn’t get with you.”
I tripped over my feet.
“Hey man.” Nick clapped Reece on the shoulder as he strolled past him. “Have a good night. See you Wednesday, Roxy.”
“Bye-bye.” I didn’t take my eyes off Reece. What was he doing here, at two thirty in the morning? It wasn’t the first time I’d stepped out of the bar late at night and found Reece waiting. Back before “the night thou shalt not repeat,” he used to do it every once in a while, when he was working the night shift and was taking lunch.
But it was something I hadn’t expected him to do again.
The sound of Nick’s motorcycle rumbling to life echoed throughout the otherwise silent parking lot. I needed to say something, because we were standing there, a few feet between us, staring at one another. “Hi.”
Well, that was spectacular.
One side of his lips kicked up as his gaze dipped. “What . . . ?” He laughed, and there was a flutter deep in my belly, like a nest of butterflies had suddenly taken flight.
“What does your shirt say?”
I glanced down, trying to stop the smile tugging at my lips. “It says ‘Ladies’ Man.’ What’s wrong with that?”
Long, thick lashes lifted and then he laughed again, that nice and light laugh that wrapped around me. “You are . . . you’re something else, Roxy.”
Shifting my weight from one foot to the next, I bit down on my lip. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a run-in-the-other-direction kind of thing.”
He took one step closer, his arms loose at his sides—his right arm brushing against the handle of his duty gun. The star on his chest seemed shinier than possible, and was eye level with me. “It’s . . . yeah, it’s a good thing.”
I sucked in an unsteady breath as a balmy breeze tossed a strand of hair across my face. What in the world was happening here? I glanced around the empty parking lot and to the line of cars beginning to stream out of the strip club across the street. “Are you . . . on lunch?”
“Yeah. I work until seven in the morning,” he replied, and then he moved so quickly, I didn’t register what he was doing until the tips of his fingers grazed my cheek. He caught the wayward hair, and as the breath literally got lost inside me, he tucked the strand behind my ear. His touch, it lingered briefly along the sensitive skin behind my ear, drawing out a sweet shiver.
My pulse was somewhere in cardiac territory. “What . . . what are you doing here, Reece?”
A slight smile graced his poetic lips. “You know, I really didn’t know at first. I was out driving around, knowing I needed to take my lunch, and I found myself pulling into the parking lot. And I thought about how we used to do this.”
My insides got all mushy, because it was dumb, but I was amazed that he actually remembered doing this. Here I was thinking that I was the only person who held on tight to those memories. I looked up at him, feeling dizzy, and it had nothing to do with the heat or his height. “And?”
“You tired?”
That wasn’t an answer to my question, but I shook my head. “Nope.”
His eyes, such a deep blue they appeared black in the low light, fixed on mine. “Well, I got to thinking. Crazy thoughts.”
My brows rose. “Crazy thoughts?”
He nodded as his grin went up a notch. “Crazy insane thoughts, such as why can’t we just start over?”
“Start over?” I was turning into a puppet that repeated everything he said.
“Yeah, you and me.”
I’d figured that much.
“And I think it’s a damn good plan,” he continued, and he was somehow one step closer, which put him as close as Nick and I had been standing earlier, but I’d felt nothing earlier. Now, there was a riot of sensations invading my system, shorting out my nerve endings. “I’m hoping you agree.”
“What plan?”
He reached out again, this time fixing my glasses. “Let’s forget about that night. I know we can’t really pretend it never happened, but you said I . . . that I didn’t do wrong by you and I know you wouldn’t lie about that,” he went on, and my heart dropped to my navel. Lie? Me? Never. “But we can move past it, right?”
“Why?” The question blurted out of me, and one of his brows arched. “No. I mean. Why now?”
A heartbeat passed. “We were friends, and I’m going to be real up front with you, babe, I miss that. I miss you. And I’m tired of missing you. So that’s the why behind the now.”
My heart did a round of hopscotch. He missed me? He was tired of missing me? Oh my God. Now my brain was spazzing out. I had no idea how to respond. I’d literally spent eleven months cursing at him and hiding from him, and now I was simply speechless. He regretted that night that kind of didn’t happen, wished it never happened, but he was here, wanting to start over.
And hope—oh man, there was a spark of hope in my chest, flickering to life. It was like being fifteen again, when he first smiled at me across the lawn. Or when he used to walk me to class at school. It was like the hug he’d given me upon his return.
It was most definitely like the night I’d given him a ride home.
And it was the same hope that I’d thought I’d extinguished over the course of eleven months, but it was obviously still there, blazing through self-preservation, confusion and the guilt.
“Is that a good enough reason for you?” There was a teasing tone to his question, one that made me want to smile, but I was floored.
I needed to tell him what really happened that night. I knew I did, but he wanted to start over, and how could I start over by delving back into the past—into the night he wanted to move on from the past?
Reece lifted his hand once more, and this time, his fingers found mine. He threaded them together. My heart was done with hopscotch and had moved on to back flips. Maybe a roundoff. He gently tugged on my arm. “What do you say, Roxy? Eat lunch, dinner, breakfast—whatever you want to call it at three in the morning—with me?”
How could I say anything other than yes?