Andria
He had to be insane.
“You must be insane.”
Pale eyelids lowered and then raised. He hadn’t stopped staring at her since he’d turned around after Jake left. The intensity of his gaze left her a little unsettled, and a lot flattered. He was hot. Really, really hot.
Tall, with shoulders so broad they threatened to rip his shirt apart every time he inhaled. She knew she’d been staring. The seams around his biceps were strained to bursting as well, and Andria hadn’t even gotten to the way his chest filled out the T-shirt. It was a shame it wasn’t lower cut. She’d have loved to see some more of his muscles.
“Why do you say that?”
His voice was smooth, like watching expensive liquor poured perfectly into a glass, splashing easily against a pair of frosted ice cubes. It drew her attention in, captivated her, and made her want to just rest her elbows on the bar and listen to him talk.
“Because he was about to kick your ass!”
Tall, Pale, and Perfect laughed easily, dismissing her fears. “No, I don’t think it would have gone quite the way he expected it. But that’s over now. Let’s discuss something more interesting.”
Andria looked up at him through her painfully thin eyelashes. “Oh? Such as?”
Was she flirting with him? She looked down and promptly stood up, pulling her arms away from where she’d inadvertently crossed them to amplify her already considerable cleavage. Yep. She’d been flirting with him.
Get ahold of yourself.
It wasn’t hard to do that. She hadn’t flirted with anyone in months. After what happened, it held no appeal to her, the idea as dull and bland as ash. A burnt reminder of what she’d once been like.
So how come this guy could get her into such a good mood? It probably had to do with him riding to the rescue, coming into her bar like a knight in shining armor, driving Jake and his fellow fraternity brothers out into the streets. That was one way to get on her good side.
“Well, I’m sure if I had an ale to quench my thirst, I could come up with something suitable to discuss.”
He talked so weird, even though it was plain English.
“Sure. This one’s on me as thanks.” She poured him a thick local beer, setting it on a coaster in front of him.
The stranger pulled a gold coin from his pocket and slapped it down. “Thank you, but while I may not have my treasure just yet, I have enough to pay for a beverage. Will this suffice?”
Andria stared. “Is that real gold?”
“Of course. You think I would try to pawn off some cheap imitation as if I were little more than a street beggar groveling in the mud?”
He talked so weird.
“No, I guess not. Thanks.” She pocketed the coin. The beer had been offered freely, so if it was real gold, she was definitely not going to complain.
The pint glass seemed to disappear in his hand, looking like a sippy cup more than anything. He was massive. And Jake was afraid of him. Well, maybe not afraid, but wary, unwilling to outright attack. Nor was the newcomer intimidated by Jake or his cronies, though she thought he should probably be a bit more respectful of them.
Jake’s family was rather well known in town, though if you knew who to talk to, it wasn’t for the best of reasons. Considering that he’d just been in the bar threatening her, telling her to stay away or she’d “be sorry,” Andria was inclined to agree with those others. His family was trouble, and they weren’t afraid to throw their weight around. It had been stupid of her to get involved in the first place, but that was done now. There was nothing she could do about it.
Or was there…
“Hey, do you need a job?”
“I…” He looked like he’d been about to automatically deny it, but changed his mind. “Do you mean here, working with you?”
That’s not quite how she’d meant it. “I guess, yeah. Here, at the bar.”
What the hell was she doing? Hiring a stranger she didn’t even know? The owner, Mr. Logan, was kind enough to let her run the show for the most part, but even she wasn’t sure how he would react to having someone like this hanging around. They did need another hand though…
What the hell, it would be worth it just to see the look on Jake’s face the next time he came around to try and threaten her.
Was it a little manipulative of her? Hell yes. But she was going to do it anyway. Mr. Lovely wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
“I suppose—”
“Perfect, you’re hired.”
“Already?”
“Yes.”
“But you do not know my name.”
His formal speech was so at odds with what she was used to hearing that it jarred her every time he used it.
“Well, what’s your name?”
He smiled, taking another drink from his beer. It was almost done. “Cowl. And yours, fair maiden?”
“Fair what?”
“Nothing. What’s your name?”
“I’m Andria.”
“An-drea-ah.” He repeated it slowly, large mouth working over each syllable as if memorizing the inflection she gave her own name. Everyone’s named sounded just a bit different coming from their own lips compared to someone else’s.
“Pleasure to meet you, Andria.” He stuck out a hand.
She took it, watching as he swallowed her up in his grip. The skin was rough, but not callused, and warm. So very warm. The feeling continued up her forearm, almost reaching her shoulder before he let go. Somewhat reluctantly she returned her hand to the bar.
“What shall I do first?”
“Pardon?”
Cowl—and what kind of name was that anyway?—tilted his head to the side. “I thought I had a job here now. Doesn’t that mean I need to be working?”
“Oh. Well, you don’t start tonight. There’s paperwork and forms that need to be filled out. We’ll need some ID, your bank information, all that stuff.”
The huge man frowned. “That could be an issue. You see, I don’t have any of that.”
“You…don’t have any?”
“No.”
“Nothing? Not even a driver’s license?”
“Not yet. But Colonel Mara assured me I will. Eventually.” He looked back at the door for a second. “Though I have my doubts.”
“I see.”
“I will work tonight for more beer. A barter.”
Labor for a beer or two? That seemed like a fantastic idea. “Done.”
Mr. Logan allowed her to have two or three pints a night as a sort of work perk if she wished. Normally Andria would have at most one, most nights none. She needed a clear mind in the mornings for class. But he certainly wouldn’t begrudge her trading a few beers for help. There was a lot that needed to be done.
“What do you want me to do?” He was looking around, searching for something to do.
Why was Cowl so eager to get to work? Does it matter? He’s going to be working around you the whole time. You’ll get to stare at those biceps all the time. Especially when he starts bringing beer up from the basement, carrying the cases…
“Is something wrong?”
She shook her head, closing her eyes. “No. Nothing is wrong.”
Quite the opposite. For now. If she caught herself daydreaming in his direction too much things could go wrong. Better get rid of him for the moment. “The beer guy is coming by tomorrow to restock us and take our empties. Can you bring up all the empty cases of beer and stack them by the back door?” She pointed to the area.
“Of course.”
“Good. They’re down the stairs to the right.”
The stairs were behind the bar.
Cowl nodded, finished his beer with one long pull, and then vaulted the counter. Andria gaped in surprise, too stunned to say anything before he’d disappeared to the basement. A moment later she heard the sound of empties clinking, and then footsteps making their way back up.
Focusing her eyes, she continued to wipe down the bar, purposefully moving in the opposite direction of the stairs so she wouldn’t have any excuse to look. The noise grew louder.
And louder.
Curiosity burned at the amount of rattling glass she could hear. It eventually got the best of her. Andria looked over her shoulder just as Cowl came back up the stairs, carrying six empty cases of beer as if the size and weight were nothing. He squatted down near the door, giving her a front-row seat to his fantastic ass as the jeans he was wearing pulled tight over it.
She’d never been into butts before, but all of a sudden Andria understood all the fuss guys made over a girl’s ass. All it had taken was the right one. His buns looked unbelievably tight, and she just wanted to go up and grab them, one in each hand.
Maybe he could then lift her up as easily as he did the beer.
Andria shook her head, scrubbing the bar as hard as she could. What the hell had gotten into her? A hot stranger walks into her bar and she just loses her composure, flirts shamelessly, and hires him? She knew absolutely nothing about him. It was crazy. What if he were a serial killer or a stalker or something?
“So, are you new in town?” she asked, trying to make the conversation sound as casual as possible. The last thing she wanted was for him to grow suspicious.
“I guess you could put it that way.” He paused thoughtfully. “I spent some time out at the Army base, but I’m on, ah, what do they call it…when you can leave?”
“Leave.”
“Yes, when you’re able to leave. What do they call it?”
Andria giggled. “They call it Leave. You’re On Leave, you mean?” She emphasized the words.
“Yes. Yes I’m on leave. They’re putting me up in an apartment over here for a while.” He pointed to one of the walls. She figured it was more of a random gesture meaning Barton City.
”Oh. Okay.”
Cowl went back down the stairs and returned with another load of six empties. Andria was still trying to come to terms with everything that had just happened as he took a third trip. This time he only came up with five boxes.
His arms were working, the muscles flexed and swollen. His biceps had to be nearly as big as her head.
“That’s all.”
She almost jumped. When had he gotten so close to her? Cowl stood back on the other side of the bar, palms resting casually against the edge as he leaned in toward her, that same, cocky, almost arrogant look plastered on his face.
On anyone else it would have made her roll her eyes and move on. But with Cowl it just sort of worked. It was like it accented the other peculiarities. Like the white hair. Not old-person white hair, either. This was more like ice, vibrant and almost glowing. He kept it short, and it was so thick it mostly stood up on its own.
His big, wide-set eyes were latched on to her, like a fish who had gone after the bait eagerly, been hooked, and was unable to let go. Andria felt herself begin to grow heated under the attention, her face growing warm. Other parts threatened to follow if she didn’t cool herself down.
“That’s all?” she tried not to lose herself in the brightness of his eyes, the azure ovals calling out to her like the Sirens of myth.
“Yes. There were no more cases with empties in them.”
Right. Of course. He’d done in three trips and five minutes what would have taken her half an hour or more. Maybe she’d made a good choice in hiring him after all.
“Okay, you can start stocking the beer fridge then.” She showed him the fridge and told him where to find the new ones, and to make sure to put the warm ones at the back.
Cowl just nodded and meticulously set to work. She tried not to watch too much, but something just kept prompting her to go back over there. Finally she gave in, tossing the cleaning rag into the sink. Washing her hands quickly, she walked over to him, snagging the door to the fridge and holding it so he could work faster.
“Here,” she said, reaching in and grabbing two bottles of her favorite beer. Cracking them, she handed him one.
“Thanks!” He upended it easily and sighed loudly after, a boyish look on his young face.
Andria shot upright from where she’d started to lean on the bar. “Wait a minute. How old are you? I didn’t just serve a minor for the second time, did I?”
Cowl eyed her skeptically, then took another drink, his actions slow and exaggerated. “You really want to know?”
She nodded.
“Two hundred and sixteen.”
“Right.” She tried to laugh with the joke, but his eyes weren’t dancing like she might expect them to.
Well he certainly wasn’t telling the truth. “Two hundred and sixteen is it?”
“Give or take a year. You sometimes lose track after that many. Sleep for a few years more than you planned.” Cowl sipped his beer. “You understand.”
“Right.” Matter of fact, Andria did not understand. “Just don’t get me in trouble.”
Cowl’s face did something unexpected. It tightened with concern. “Is that what you think I’m trying to do? Make your life worse?”
“Well…” Why did that joke bother him so much? It wasn’t like there was anything he could do to make her life worse, anyway. Not after what had already been done to her. That was humiliation enough for one lifetime.
“I’m not interested in doing that. If I do, please let me know. All I am is to make your life better. More enjoyable.”
He was weird. Really weird. Yet in some odd fashion, she actually thought he was sincere. Maybe it was the size of his eyes, or the lines of his face, the strong cheeks and jaw. Whatever it was, Andria found herself more at ease around him than she had any right to be.
Hopefully Jake experienced the exact opposite effect around him.