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“Tess…” I’m shaking my head at her, warning her to keep her mouth shut, but the grip she has on my hair makes it painful.
She laughs at me and unlatches her hand from my head. “Let me go,” she says and again, I do as I’m told. A second later she’s scrambling off the bar, disappearing into the crowd. With her tiny tank top and grease-stained overalls that puts her tattoos and piercings on full display and her scuffed Doc Martin’s she looks like Punk rock Tinkerbell—if Tinkerbell could rebuild a transmission and kick your ass.
Probably at the same time.
Sara’s still staring at me. Both hands free, I start handing out the whisky sours, exchanging them for money until I’m out of drinks. “Look, it’s nice to see you but—”
“Are you guys hooking up?” Sara blurts out, casting a quick look over her shoulder.
“Seriously?” I say, starting on a round of Malibu and cranberries. “Me and Tess?” I shake my head. “No—she’s just an asshole. She says shit like that all the time.” I can’t look at her so I concentrate on counting out pours of coconut rum. “Hangs out with Conner too much.”
“She asked me about you.” Sara shrugs. Even though I’m only paying half attention to her I can see she’s jealous. A blind guy would be able to see it. “About how you are—sexually.”
What the shit?
“I’m not hooking up with Tess,” I say, shoving drinks into hands, dropping money into my apron. “She’s like family.”
Sara gives me a funny look. “That’s not what—”
“Fuck, woman.”
I look past Sara, watching the crowd of bros part like the Red Sea, eyes wide, mouths hanging open, somewhere between laughter and sheer terror. Here comes Tess, dragging Con through the middle of them by his ear. “I’m just about the only woman in this dump you haven’t fucked,” she shouts back, pulling him along behind her, taking the long way around the bar. “Matter of fact, your dick called. He’s tired and would like a break.”
“Tessie, are you jealous?” he tosses back, his quip followed by a howl. “OWW! It’s not detachable—shit!”
She huffs a lank of dark hair out of her eyes and keeps walking. “Wanna bet?”
“If you want a ride, all you have to do is say so. I’ll let you jump the line.” He’s laughing because he’s a total dick and just fucked-up enough to find this situation amusing, despite the fact that he’s in serious danger of losing an ear.
As soon as they’re back behind the bar, Tess lets go to drill her finger into his chest. “I’d rather lick the sludge off these bar mats than get Gilroyed—thanks anyway.”
Con grins at her, rubbing his ear. It’s bright red and looks about two inches lower on his head than it did before Tess got her hands on him. “One of these days you’re gonna have to admit that you want me, Tessie,” he says, reaching for her to press a wet, noisy kiss to the side of her face. If there’s anything Conner loves more than pussy, it’s getting Tess riled up. The fact that he’s managed to obtain both in one night has him practically giddy.
“Gross,” she says, pushing him away while wiping at her face, trying to fight the smile that’s threatening to break loose. “Who knows where your mouth has been.”
“I can show you if you want,” he says, reaching for her again and the whole bar laughs at the show the two of them are putting on.
“One Gilroy under my belt is quite enough, thanks,” she says loudly before motioning for me to lift her onto the bar again. Fitting her fingers into her mouth, she lets out an ear-splitting whistle. Like Pavlov’s dogs, every single drunk in the place stops and looks up at her. “College girl specials.” She points at a spot down the bar. “Beer,” she says pointing at the area in front of the taps. “Everything else.” She jerks her thumb in the opposite direction before stopping cold, her gaze zeroing in on someone standing by the door. “And you—” she says, pointing at a stunned and angry-looking Declan. “If you’re finished with your cake tasting, I’d appreciate it if you’d get your ass back behind the bar and start washing glasses.”
Thirty-two
Cari
As far as datesgo, this one has been as close to perfect as I’ve ever had. When Chase’s driver stopped the car in the middle of the warehouse district, I thought maybe he was lost. Or maybe he wasn’t Chase’s driver at all. Every episode of The First 48 I’ve ever seen flashed in front of my eyes. Just when I was getting ready to dig my phone out of my purse, my door opened and there was Chase. Behind him, parked on a dimly lit side street was a food truck.
“I hope you like tacos,” he said, reaching out to help me from the car, still holding my hand when he took a step back to give me a head to toe look, coupled with a low whistle. “God, please tell me you like tacos.”
Laughing, I nod, pulling my hand free under the pretense of shutting the car door. “I do indeed.”
“In that case, we’ll name our first-born Everett.” Chase grins at me, offering me his arm.
“Everett?” I say, playing along because Everett fucking Chase is flirting with me and I’m going to like it whether I like it or not. “You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who longs for a junior.”
“It’s a have to, not a want to,” he says, rolling his eyes for effect. “Family name.”
Giving in, I take his arm, letting him guide me toward the back of the food truck’s lengthy line. “But what if it’s a girl?” I say, arching a brow at him.
“We’re young and hip enough to pull off naming our daughter Everett,” he assures me grinning like he’s got it all figured out. “It’s our son who’s going to have a hard time.”