Page 6

Chapter six

Colt

M asked men and women are trickling into the bar. There’s a line outside wrapping down the sidewalk as guests wait to be checked in with a ticket. An excited buzz fills the room. It makes me wish Aidan was here to see the bar this alive. I’m still shocked we sold out the event, and trying not to let it go to my head.

Behind the bar, I prep each station. Once speed dating begins, we’re going to be slammed. Ensuring each station is properly prepared will help things run smoothly. I scan the entire bar over and over, working from muscle memory while I assess how well each one of my employees is doing at their stations. We brought in extra staff tonight to be sure we aren’t short-handed, including two extra bartenders that will bounce between the bar and serving. Our security team is doubled up for safety as well. The last thing we want is anything happening to our guests tonight. It was important to Vivian that we make sure women feel safe at the event. Personally, I couldn’t agree more. The last thing we need is cops up in the bar poking around. Uncle Ricky would have our asses for shit like that. There’s no way he wants any sort of attention on the bar, not unless it’s making him money.

I’m deep in conversation with Kyler, reminding her that she’ll be in charge tonight. I’ll only be assisting her while also overseeing the entire event.

“You’re such a control freak. Everything will be fine,” Kyler teases, rolling her eyes at my reminder.

“You know I wish I wasn’t.”

She sighs. “How are you going to micromanage everything from another location?”

“Whatever. I’m not going to micromanage you from anywhere, because Aidan will be here making sure everything runs smoothly.”

“You know, when Aidan’s here, he’s about five thousand times more relaxed than you.”

“Yeah, yeah and you know, without my micromanagement, we wouldn’t be here sold out.”

Kyler scoffs. “I think you mean thanks to Vivian we’re sold out. She’s an evil business genius, and you know it.”

“Oh, I know it, and together, we’re dangerous.” I waggle my brows at her playfully, but then, I see her.

The whole world stops when the gorgeous woman I’m lightly stalking walks through the front door. Holy hell, she’s fucking stunning. My eyes race up and down her body, taking in every last detail obsessively. The outfit she’s wearing should be reserved for my eyes only. She has on a pair of sexy black heels, and it only gets better from there. My cock goes rigid. She’s wearing fucking fishnet tights. They sprawl up her calves, over her knees, and to her thighs, where a lacy hem peeks out from beneath her leather skirt when she moves. That outfit is such a sinfully tempting invitation. I force myself to look away for a moment, fighting the urge to throw her against the wall, then sliding my palms over the thin material and beneath her skirt.

After a few deep breaths, I return my gaze to her. At first glance, I’m convinced she’s standing there nearly naked in only a corset top. I do a double take as my jaw slackens. Her shirt is see through, she’s actually wearing a corset. All I can think about is dragging my mouth over the soft peaks of her swelling breasts, on full display for not just me, but every man in this bar. My jaw flexes, and I crack my neck to relieve the pent-up agitation.

By my count, there’s at least five other men in masks checking her out. I don’t like it. Instinctively, I clench my fists as a pang of jealousy consumes my thoughts. I don’t want anyone else in this bar to look at her. No, it’s more than that. I don’t want to watch her go on a date with anyone but me tonight, because if she’s looking for a hookup, I want to be the guy she’s leaving with. Her outfit is screaming down to fuck. She’s here for one thing and one thing only, and I’ll do anything for a chance, even pay someone to get lost.

A low rumble builds in my chest, and I fight the urge to let it rip loose. There’s no way I’m going to be able to control myself tonight. Not unless I’m the one sitting across from her. How the fuck did I blow this? If I’d helped Vivian with the applications, maybe I would have known sooner. But she didn’t really strike me as the kind of girl that needs speed dating to find dates. Now that I think about it, I’ve never seen her leave with anyone but her friends. If the world broke her, I swear I will be the one to heal this woman until she believes she’s fucking perfect.

My eyes don’t leave her until she’s seated at the table with number nine. I watch as she accepts the name tag from Taylor, one of the hostesses working tonight.

Time feels like it starts again with a whoosh, and I’m rambling off last-minute instructions to Kyler. She nods along, entertaining me and then I sidestep around her, removing my apron and heading to the back office to grab my headset. Inside the office, I pull the jacket off the back of my chair, where I tossed it before prepping the bar. My fingers slide over the smooth buttons as I methodically pull myself together, stepping back onto the floor with an earpiece connecting me to all the managers and security.

“Hey, cuz, try to relax,” Kyler heckles me as I pass by the bar on a mission to leave with the woman of my dreams.

I give my cousin a look, flip her the bird, then lock my sights on the empty hostess station. Someone is going to get yelled at, for leaving the host station unattended. Taylor and Brad both know better. I’ll deal with them after I look at the list. I need to find out my mystery woman’s name and who her first match is. Her friend’s business account always pays the tab.

Behind the hostess station, I check the seating chart. Searching for table nine, I drag my finger down the page. Maddox. A groan escapes my lips, and I look around, hoping no one heard. Smiling, I search the check-in sheet for her starting match. Good, her date, Patrick, is already here. Whoever he is, he won’t be here for long. I just need to concoct my plan to be the only man she meets tonight. I look around the bar, contemplating calling in a favor from Uncle Ricky. He’d know exactly how to get rid of a body.

I sigh and check my watch. Fifteen minutes until the mingling begins, and then she’s all mine, so long as I can pull this off. I can’t fucking murder Patrick, but maybe I was on to something earlier. I check my wallet to see how much cash I have on me. A few hundred bucks should cover paying Patrick to leave. Am I really doing this? I don’t know where this confidence is coming from. Maybe it’s the compulsive need to be with her, dictating my every move. Or the way every man in the bar seems to have their focus set on my girl. Only one thing is certain: I’m about to go find Patrick and ask him nicely to leave. Hopefully, he says yes. Otherwise, I’m not sure what my backup plan is. I’ll have to think of something, and fast.

“Colt,” a voice calls over the radio.

“Go for Colt,” I reply.

“The men’s bathroom is out of paper towels, and the place is packed. Everyone is busy. Is there any chance you can slip away and restock them?”

“I’m on it,” I answer.

This is going to leave me even less time to find Patrick. I need a goddamn miracle if I’m going to pull this off.