Whatever Jo had on her lips tasted like cherries. She smelled like summertime, and the soft press of her body against mine had me feeling short of breath. Her fingers wandered up the back of my neck and tightened into fists in my hair. She let out the softest sigh as I lowered my hands to cup her ass and pulled her closer to me.

Jo’s hands wandered back down my neck until she was holding my face and kissing me greedily. Her sighs turned into needy moans, and I walked her backward until she was backed up against the shelving unit on the back wall of the storage room. She arched herself up and bumped the shelf, sending half a dozen rolls of toilet paper down upon us.

Giggling, she broke away and looked up at me.

Then her expression changed, and she let go of my face. She dropped her hands to her side, went back down to her flat feet, and broke eye contact.

“I’m sorry, Jo. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” she said hurriedly. “Really. I shouldn’t have kissed you back.” She cleared her throat and pushed her hair back off her face. Her gaze darted to the box on the floor behind me. “Can you carry that out to the front for me, please?”

I’d fucked up. I should have kept my head and refrained from kissing her. I could see how torn she was. Her forehead was creased, and it seemed as though her thoughts were screaming at her. Guilt was etched into her eyes.

I turned and picked up the box. Her footsteps were soft behind me as we returned to the front of the bar. She climbed up onto the step stool once more, and I passed her the bottles as we had done before until the box was empty. Then she got down and tucked the stool away.

I went back to the other side of the bar and sat on the stool. I watched her pour herself a drink that was fifty percent water and fifty percent vodka. She splashed in a bit of cranberry juice, dropped a lime in it, and then pounded it back like a total champion. She dragged the back of her hand across her lips and finally looked up at me. “Beer?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Jo opened a bottle of beer for me and refilled her glass with only water. The bar wasn’t busy at all. There were two tables at the back with a few people sitting around them, and one waitress was serving them. I wished there were more people around. The hum of other voices might have helped to break the thick tension between us.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” I said, hoping she would be open to hearing my apology this time around. “It was selfish of me.”

Jo shook her head. “No. It’s all right. I could have stopped you if I wanted to.”

Was she implying that she hadn’t wanted to stop me?

She sighed and gave me a tender smile that made me think she had forgiven me—or forgiven herself. “I just feel bad for doing that to Brett. It’s not fair to him, you know?”

“I get it,” I said, even though I really didn’t. The guy wasn’t good enough for her. He was a schmuck. I’d seen how he put his hands on her in the parking lot. He’d made it very clear that he didn’t respect her, and a guy like that didn’t have a line in the sand not to cross. Eventually, he’d push too far, and Jo would find herself in a tight spot.

Hopefully, I’d be there to get her out of it.

Jo brought her glass of water with her as she walked around to my side of the bar. Sliding onto the barstool on my right, she leaned forward to rest her cheek in her hand and her elbow on the bar. She sipped her water through her straw and fixed me with her bright green eyes. “So tell me what’s new with you.”

I chuckled and gave her a one-shoulder shrug. “Not a hell of a lot. Spending most of my time helping my mom unpack the last of her boxes. Staying in a hotel until tomorrow morning when I can finally move into my place. It’s all pretty mundane, to be honest.”

“You miss the Air Force?”

“Almost as much as I miss my dad.”

Jo nodded knowingly. She lifted her glass and encouraged me to raise my beer when she extended it out between us. I tapped my beer to the edge of her glass. “A toast to that, then,” she said, and then she sipped her drink. I followed suit. “To good fathers and our service and the undeniable pull we will always feel to go back to what we loved.”

“You should have been a poet, not a bartender.”

“Excuse me.” Jo laughed. “I am not a bartender. I’m a manager and soon to be the owner of this gem.” She held her arms out wide as if to encompass the entire pub.

“It is a gem; I’ll give it that. Your dad built a good place. Good people and what not.”

As the words left my mouth, Rosie, the pretty dark-haired waitress, popped up on Jo’s other side and smiled brightly at us. “Afternoon, you two,” she said. She was wearing a white dress that flared out at her waist and was covered in red roses. “How’s it hanging?”

“Hey, Rosie.” Jo smiled. “Good. Been a slow afternoon, so Zach and I were just catching up. I didn’t know you were on shift today.”

“Oh, I wasn’t. Bella called in sick yet again, and I offered to cover. You’re going to have to do something about that girl, Jo. She’s as useless as a dead leaf on a branch.”

“She’s young,” Jo said. “She just doesn’t understand responsibility like we do. I think she’ll come around if we give her another month or so.”

“You’re too nice,” Rosie said, lifting her nose and shuffling behind the bar. “That attitude won’t get you anywhere, you know? I say cut your losses. Give her the boot. What about you, Zach? What would you do?”

I looked back and forth between the two women who were staring at me expectantly. I felt like I was hovering over a bear trap. “Uh—”

“Uh, what?” Rosie asked, widening her eyes at me.

Jo rolled her eyes. “Ignore her. She’s pushy.”

“Don’t hate me,” I said. “But I’m with Rosie on this one. You have to watch out for your business. If someone doesn’t respect you or the pub the way they should, they have to go.” I wasn’t sure if she would realize that what I was saying applied to both this Bella girl and Brett, but it did.

Rosie nodded, clearly satisfied with my answer, and pointed a finger at Jo. “See. That’s just common sense right there.”

Jo blew out a breath and her cheeks puffed out. “Fine. I’ll fire her.”

Rosie, quite pleased with herself, clapped her hands together and walked off down the hall to what I assumed was the back room to put her uniform on.

Jo looked at me flatly over the rim of her glass. “I’m thinking of making her assistant manager when my dad hands ownership over to me. Do you think that’s an incredibly stupid idea?”

“Not at all. It’s good to have someone who’s opposite of you. That way, you get other perspectives. She’s a little,” I paused, trying to find the right word, “intense, but I think you can play that to your benefit, right?”

“I guess. Poor Bella. I think she’s trying to move out with her boyfriend. She lives with her mother right now, who sounds like a real piece of work.”

“Don’t feel bad for her. If she’s not willing to put in the work to change her situation, that’s on her, not you.”

Jo gave me a crooked smile. “You looking for a job? You’d be a great assistant manager.”

I laughed and leaned back on my stool. “No, actually I just got one.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Humanitarian Assignment right here in Houston. I start in two weeks. Needless to say, my mom is thrilled. It will be a strange change of pace, but I’m hoping for the best.”

“So you really are staying, hey?” Jo asked.

“Sure am.”

Jo frowned as she stared at her now empty glass of water. “Do you think you’ll regret it?” She looked up suddenly, as if realizing how personal her question was. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I just… I really miss the Coast Guard sometimes.”

“No need to apologize,” I said. I’d pried her for answers about her arm. I was no hypocrite. She had the right to ask me whatever she wanted, and I would be truthful with her. “I don’t know if I’ll regret it. Right now, I know it’s the right choice to make. My ma means more to me than being in the air, and at the end of the day, it’s just that simple.”

“Simple,” Jo said quietly.

“Yes. I know that I would have more regret if I didn’t come home. I want to be here for her. Life is funny. You never know how much time you have left. Maybe if I had no one I loved, I would return to the Air Force. And if that happened, I don’t know if I would consider it a win, you know what I mean?”

“Look who’s the poet now.” Jo grinned.

I laughed as Rosie returned from the back. She had wrapped a black apron around her waist and tied her hair up in a ponytail. She glanced under the bar and then up at Jo. “Can you make me my special drink?”

“Of course,” Jo said as she slid off her stool. She went behind the bar where she whipped up Rosie’s concoction quickly. She dropped a Maraschino cherry in when she was done, then a red straw, and passed it to the bubbly waitress.

Rosie pursed her pink lips around the straw. After her first sip, she smiled appreciatively. “You’re the best boss ever.”

“I know.”

“And so humble,” Rosie said.

“Damn straight.”

“When are you going to fire Bella?”

Jo groaned and pressed her face into her hands. “I don’t like letting people go, Rosie. I feel too guilty. I’ll let her go next week, in person. I have a bunch of paperwork I’ll have to do, and I just don’t have the energy for that right now. Just consider yourself victorious. She’ll be gone within the next seven days.”

“Good,” Rosie said, lifting her chin. Her eyes wandered over to me as I finished my second beer. She didn’t say anything to me. She simply smiled. Then she walked out from behind the bar to look after a group of four who had just come in to eat.

“It will start picking up now for dinner,” Jo said. “Are you still going to hang out for a bit? I enjoy the company.”

“I don’t have anywhere to be,” I said.

“Great. Another beer, then?”

“Maybe water for now.”

“Okay. Food menu?”

I nodded, and she handed one to me. I opened it up and started flipping through it as the bar began filling up. Rosie worked as hostess and server, escorting people to their tables and then hurrying to Jo to order their drinks. Every time she made a drink and put the bottle of liquor back on the shelf, she would make sure the label was straight and facing outward. I liked her attention to detail. It satisfied my OCD tendencies immensely.

I ordered a steak sandwich, which Jo told me was sublime, and watched her pour drinks for Rosie and then fill them up on a tray. As she worked, we chatted about nothing, laughed about everything, and left behind the awkwardness that had grown between us after our kiss.

But I could still feel the velvet soft press of her lips on mine, and I could still taste her cherry chapstick. I was more than aware of the fact that this new memory would be haunting me for weeks to come, maybe longer.

I reflected back on my mother’s advice. I needed to be patient. Kissing the girl I wanted to be mine would do no good when she was with another man. Especially when the girl was as loyal and honest as Jo. I’d put her in a tight spot. She regretted her decision to indulge in a kiss, that much was clear, but I also suspected she regretted how good it had felt.

Because there was no way I was the only one who felt the air around us become charged with electricity as soon as our lips touched.

No fucking way.