Page 3 of Just A Little Joy

“Well, Travis, today might be your lucky day.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“It just so happens I’ve been looking to pick up a couple of evening shifts after my regular job.”

“What’s your regular job?”

“Right now, I’m waiting tables at Stone and Vine, but I always do the lunch shift, so I’m never there in the evenings.”

“Have you barbacked before?”

“Yeah. Off and on for a couple of years in a ski town in Colorado during the summer.”

“What about winter?”

“I worked at the ski lodge.”

“A ski bum, huh?”

“My résumé refers to that time as Frozen Terrain Operations Associate.”

“Oh wow. Sorry, my bad. What does someone with that job title do?”

“We’re ski bums.” Casey followed up his tongue-in-cheek answer with a raucous laugh. Even muffled by the sauna walls, it echoed.

“Why don’t you stop by the bar around four? We’ll do a proper job interview.”

“Hell yeah. How soon are you looking for someone to start?”

“As soon as possible. Come in jeans and work boots, and you can start tonight.”

“Assuming the interview goes well.”

“I’m desperate. If you show up on time and you’re not already drunk, you’ve got the job.”

“Since I don’t drink, that won’t be a problem. See you at four.”

With that, Casey slid off the bench and sauntered out the door. He didn’t bother to tighten his towel, and it hung low on his backside, caught on the bubble of his ass. Goddamn, what a view.

Remembering I was supposed to be the boss might be the death of me.

As a workday,my afternoon was an absolute bust. Since next week was Thanksgiving, I expected there to be a big crowd on Thursday night and needed someone in place by then. By that point, everybody was sick of turkey and their cousin’s bullshit and needed a break from all the family time. That meant everything I normally did on Thursday nights needed to be done earlier. That brilliant plan was shot to hell because I had spent more time looking at the clock than actually scrubbing behind the bar or taking inventory.

On the off chance that Casey was going to show up, I told my bartender on duty tonight to come in a little later. I didn’t have to ask twice since it meant more time with their kid, but for me, all it meant was staring at the clock and wondering if he would walk in.

There was something about Casey I couldn’t put my finger on. Something that made me want to pull him close and keep him there. Maybe it was his smile that never seemed to fade or the fact that he was out and proud with that ridiculous tattoo on his thigh. He wasn’t wrong—it was cute as shit, and there wasn’t anything wrong with liking cute shit. In fact, I encouraged it, or I would if I had a boy of my own. I had been to the local club, Wilde Dandies, a few times, but I hadn’t found a connection. Plenty of nice boys were there, but none of them pulled me in the way Casey did.

I had already decided my next relationship—not that Casey and I had one—was going to be Daddy/little. I think that was part of the reason my previous ones had failed. I knew I wanted to be a Daddy, but I hadn’t found the boy I wanted to be a Daddy to. Yet. Meanwhile, I could damn sure admire the scenery thatwas Casey. It was part of the reason for my marriage failing too. Although that was more about my wife not being sure I could be faithful on the road.

One more glance at the clock said it was three fifty-nine, and there was still no Casey in sight. Shit. I really hoped he would show. I shoved myself off the stool where I had been doing the books and headed to the back. There was no point in sitting around if he wasn’t coming. When the bell clanked above the door, signaling someone had entered the bar, all that pep talk about not being so eager went out the window. I raced around to the front.

Standing at the bar was Casey, freshly scrubbed and showered. His hair was still shiny and inky from the water, his skin still dewy. Maybe that was the Pacific Northwest rain look, but it worked for him. At this point, I thought anything would look good on him—or off him.

Travis, get your shit together. You’re supposed to be the boss.

“Hey, man, did I make it on time?” Casey asked as he slid his phone into his pocket.

“Pretty close,” I said with a glance at the clock. “About ten after, I guess.”