Page 4 of Snake Eyes (Out of His League #2)

It’s an unfair comparison, given the bar I worked in was more upscale and this is a small establishment out in the boonies, but I can’t help but notice the things that wouldn’t have passed muster at my old job.

There’s dust on almost every surface behind the bar, the windows don’t look like they’ve been cleaned in my lifetime, and there’s goddamn peanuts in every difficult-to-reach crevice I can see. “What are you going to do now?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, dragging his fingertip along a dusty window frame before letting another sigh escape.

“Get a new tenant. Preferably one who doesn’t leave the place looking like it was abandoned in the nineties.

” Garrett turns to lean against the wall, crossing his arms. Hunter, his loyal protector, stays glued to his side, as always.

“This is the first time I’ve been in here in more than a year. ”

“You don’t come to your own bar?” My voice is incredulous.

He shakes his head, those intense eyes surveying the room.

“I don’t like people. Or socializing. Or noise.

Being in a bar is a special kind of hell.

I prefer to be alone in my workshop, working on my latest order in silence.

” Those intense eyes survey the room, crinkling with fondness.

“But I gotta admit it’s sad to see it like this.

Back when my dad was running things, Snake Eyes was a pillar of the community.

We had family nights, sports nights, holiday toy drives.

Hell, if there was an excuse for a party, my dad would take it. ”

I could see the potential in the place. It was certainly big enough to host full-scale parties.

There’s a pool table at the far end of the bar and a battered old dart board in the corner.

There’s room for a TV over there . The foundations were all here.

“Is that what you want the new tenant to do? Build it back up?”

He nodded. “I hope so. All I take is the rent; the rest of the profits are all theirs, so there’s certainly room to reinvest in the place. I’d love to see its potential realized.”

“I would never have guessed you didn’t like people. Like, you took me into your home, some random person you’d never met before—”

Garrett’s laugh is dry, but his eyes crinkle as they find me. “Usually I’m desperate to be alone. To finally be able to relax. You’re the first person I’ve ever met who I feel alone with, if that makes sense.”

With anyone else, I’d consider that a straight-up insult. With Garrett, though? “It makes sense.”

His soft expression stays on me, but then he blinks and quickly diverts his focus, clearing his throat.

“You know, I was annoyed when Chrissy changed her mind, but I’m actually kind of relieved now I see the state of the bar.

I can only imagine how much worse it would have gotten five years down the line. ”

I bet. The place is a grimy mess, but beneath it all there’s the bones of a solid bar. The sticky hardwood still has life in it, the bar stools are solid oak topped with maroon leather, the drink selection is vast. It just needs a hell of a deep clean.

And the man in front of me?

He was kind enough to take me into his home. He even gave me his damn bed, not to mention he sorted out getting my car taken to the mechanic before I even woke up this morning.

“I’ll clean it for you.”

Lost in his thoughts, Garrett takes a second to register what I said. “Sorry?”

“I’ll clean the bar for you and get it ready for you to get a new tenant.”

“Why the hell would you want to do that?”

“You literally could have left me to die.” My shoulders pop up as I shrug. “I want to repay your kindness.”

His gaze is intense. I can feel it moving over me, like it’s examining every facet of my soul. “I didn’t do it to be repaid , Charlie. I did it because it was the right thing to do.”

I move closer to him, watching his pupils dilate. “Then let’s just call it a thank you. You helped me, I help you.” There’s something about being this close to him that triggers something feminine in my brain. “And then we can call it even.”

He shakes his head, and I can already tell by the guilt encroaching on his expression that he’s going to refuse me again. “I can’t. I have a rush order to finish this morni—”

“Garrett.” I’m using my best no-nonsense voice, and I hope it’s working. “I don’t need your help to clean it, I can do it by myself. You have no idea how satisfying cleaning those dusty surfaces is going to be. And the windows? The before and after is going to be magical .”

“You’re serious?”

I nod. “My social media feed is nothing but satisfying cleaning videos. Deep cleans, rugs, sofas, cars, even lawncare. I watch them all—and I’m a bartender. I know which cleaning products to use and where.”

There’s a twitch to his brow, but I see the moment I win him over. “Okay,” he grunts, waving a hand across the room. “It’s all yours.”

I check the clock on the wall. “You said you need to open at nine o’clock, right?” Ten minutes.

Garrett lobs his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to a door labelled STAFF ONLY.

“Nine is for my leatherworking shop next door; there’s a door inside the back room that leads to it.

Hasn’t been used in years, but I’ll keep it open today in case you need me.

I won’t actually be opening the bar until I’ve secured another tenant. ”

“So I’ll be alone in here?”

“If that’s okay with you. If you’ve changed your mind, that’s okay too.”

My lips twist in a saucy grin. “Not a chance.” I make my way over to behind the bar, seeing the speed rail packed full of the most popular drinks.

It’s not quite the bougie assortment at my last bar, but underneath it is the usual assortment of liquors, mixers, and glasses.

I don’t see what I’m looking for, however.

Not bothering to ask for Garrett’s permission, I pass through the staff door.

Here we go. Metal shelving covers one side of the small room, holding heavy cases of alcohol.

There’s a smaller selection than I’m used to, but that’s to be expected in a smaller bar.

A safe is in the corner, being used to prop up a box of glassware.

There’s another door back here—presumably the door between the units that Garrett mentioned—but it’s the other side of the room I’m interested in.

I’m pleased to see a large stainless-steel sink bookended by wide drainboards.

A pair of latex gloves rests over the sink; my latex allergy means those will be going untouched, but I’m sure I can find a replacement.

Excitement sparks as I see a load of cleaning bottles crowding the other drainboard, plus a mop and bucket on the floor.

Jackpot.

Cleaning the bar is even more satisfying than I imagined. My wet cloth breaks through the layers of dust and grime like a hot knife through butter, and before I know it, I’ve cleared every surface I can reach.

I was pleased to discover the sound system can be connected to my phone, meaning I’ve spent the last four hours singing along to my favorite playlist, dancing as I go.

It’s been so long since I’ve listened to my music on proper speakers, rather than earphones or in the car.

Joey would turn his nose up anytime I tried to listen to it at home, but I’m loving the freedom right now.

In more ways than one.

Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do—but it’s so much nicer not having to listen to a manager telling me what to do, where to clean, who to serve, or any number of other tasks that come along.

Feeling freer than I have in a long time, I lay my hand on the bar itself, pleased to find that it no longer comes away sticky and gross. I turn to move onto the tasks on the other side of the bar, singing away.

“Through here.” Garrett’s gruff, muffled voice comes, and I zip my trap as he walks through the “staff only” door, closely followed by a short, rotund man with graying hair. Garrett’s dark eyes immediately find mine. “Kurt is here about your car.”

My stomach curls into a tangled knot, but I manage to offer out a hand to him. “Thank you for looking at it on such short notice.”

“Not a problem.” Kurt’s hand is rough against mine, and there’s a black smudge on his forehead. “Looked like one helluva whack. ”

“It was,” I say, before giving Garrett a bright smile. “But thankfully my hero was around to hear it.”

“Yeah, Garrett’s solid, aren’t you, son?” Kurt claps him on the shoulder, before barking out a laugh. “Bit prickly for conversation though.”

I can practically hear Garrett’s unimpressed glare, and I immediately want to stick up for him. “Oh, no—Garrett’s been amazing.” He still avoids eye contact, so I switch tactics, taking a deep breath and bracing myself for financial disaster. “So, what’s the verdict with the car?”

Kurt ticks off the issues on his fingers. “Well, the CV boot’s busted. It’s slinging grease all over the shop. That one is a fairly quick fix. It’s the transmission that’s the big issue. That needs a total rebuild.”

I nod along like I know what the fuck he’s talking about. “Do you have a rough estimate of how much that’ll cost me?” I say, my voice ticking up at the end.

There’s a faint rasp as Kurt scrapes his hand along his stubbled jaw. “That’ll run you $2,000, possibly even $2,500.”

I feel like a balloon slowly deflating as my hopes crumble. Two and a half grand. I don’t even have half of that. “I…” I swallow, the words struggling to get past the lump in my throat. “Do you mind if I think about it?”

“Course,” he says gruffly, chucking his thumb over his shoulder. “Let me know when you decide. Garrett knows where to find me.”

I thank him, barely noticing as Garrett walks him out. My mind is on more pressing matters—like how the fuck I was going to come up with another $1,600? I rest my elbows on the bar, lost in crackpot theories of how I could make my way back home to Calgary.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

“Hey.” Garrett softly touches my shoulder as he walks back in, pulling me back down to the grim reality of my situation. “You okay?”

I quickly plaster on a smile I don’t feel. “Of course. Just, uh, just doing some math in my head.”

His eyebrow quirks up, and I can tell he doesn’t believe me. “Come on. Let’s go out for lunch. I have something I want to discuss with you.”