- -
- 100%
- +
“I don’t know you.”
“Exactly.” He stepped around me and headed back out to the bar, leaving me standing in the hall, more than a little confused.
Of course I didn’t know him. I’d just met him yesterday, so what the hell? It was just a question. I turned, flipping my hair back over my left shoulder. I breathed in. Then I breathed out.
I had a problem.
Well, I had lots of problems, but I also had a new one.
I wanted to get to know Jackson—Jax—James better and I shouldn’t. That should be the last thing I wanted, but it wasn’t.
Bartending was hard.
Because of basically growing up in bars, I’d avoided them once I’d left home and it had been years since I’d really been inside one. Back in the day, I knew how to make most mixed drinks just from seeing them done so many times, but now? I officially sucked at it. Like sucked hard-core. On almost every mixed drink, my eyes were glued to the cocktail menu taped near the serving well.
Luckily, Jax wasn’t a dick about it. When someone came in, which they started to do around three, one after another, and they ordered a drink that sounded like a different language to me, he didn’t make it hard for me. Instead, he stepped back, giving soft corrections if I reached for the wrong mixer or poured too little or too much of a liquor.
Having worked as a waitress, I knew I could smile my way through about every mess-up. With old and rheumy-eyed men, it worked even better.
“Take your time, sweetie,” one older man said when I had to toss his drink since I wasn’t good at free pouring and probably poured enough liquor to kill the dude. “All I got is time.”
“Thank you.” I smiled as I redid the drink, which was a simple gin and tonic. “Better?”
The man took a sip and winked. “Perfect.”
As he stepped away, heading to a table near one of the pool tables, Jax moved in from behind me. “Here. Let me show you how to free pour.” Reaching around me, he grabbed one of the shorter glasses and then picked up the gin. “Paying attention?”
Uh.
He was standing so close to my side I could feel his freaking body heat. He could be talking about how many times Mars circled the sun for all I knew. “Sure,” I murmured.
“We don’t really use jiggers, but it’s pretty simple. Basically, for every count, you’re pouring a quarter ounce. So if you’re pouring one and a half ounces, you’re going to count to six. For a half ounce, you’re going to count to two.”
Sounded easy, but after pouring a couple of them, I still wasn’t pouring the same amount with each count, and all I was doing was wasting liquor.
“It only gets better with practice,” he said, propping his hip against the bar top. “Luckily, most of the people are beer folk, straight-up shots, and a few of the simpler mixed drinks.”
“Yeah, but someone’s going to come in here asking for a Jax special, and I’m going to look like an idiot,” I said as I wiped up the liquor I’d gotten on the bar.
Jax chuckled. “Only I make that, so you don’t have to worry about it.”
I pictured him offering that drink to girls he wanted to lay, and then was immediately disturbed by how much I didn’t like that image. “Well, that’s good to know.”
“You’re doing fine.” Pushing off the bar, he placed his hand on the small of my back as he leaned in, his lips dangerously close to my ear, causing me to stiffen as he spoke, and warm air danced over my skin. “Just keep smiling like you are, and any guy will forgive you.”
My eyes popped wide as he sauntered off to the other end of the bar, leaning down on his folded arms as one of the guys at the bar said something to him.
I think I forgot how to breathe while I stood there, staring at the back of a fuzzy white and balding head of some guy.
There was no doubt in my mind that Jax knew how to bring the flirt. As I pushed away from the bar top, clearing my face of what I hoped wasn’t a stupid grin, I chanced a look down the bar.
Jax was laughing. He had this deep, unfettered laugh, where he’d raise his chin and let loose the deep, rumbling sound like he didn’t have a care in the world. The sound pulled at the corners of my lips. Whoever he was talking to looked about his age, which was a mystery age currently. The guy was also attractive—dark brown hair, a little longer than I’d like, but not as long as Jase’s. From what I could see, he was also broad in the shoulders.
Hot guys always flocked together, and there had to be some kind of scientific evidence supporting this fact.
Roxy arrived at the start of the evening shift, and she was yet another surprise. I wasn’t the tallest girl around, coming in around five and seven inches, but she was a tiny thing. Barely crossing over five feet, she had what looked like a mass of chestnut hair streaked with deep red piled into a bun atop her head. She was rocking Buddy Holly black frames that added to the impish cuteness of her face, and was dressed much like I was, in jeans and a shirt. I decided that I immediately liked her, mainly because she was wearing a Supernatural T-shirt with Dean and Sam on it.
Her wide eyes flickered over me as she crossed the bar, and Jax quickly tagged her, motioning her over to where he was still leaning against the bar. Whatever he said to Roxy caused her to glance in my direction.
I hated being the new person.
When he was finally done with her, he went back to his conversation with the other hot guy. I forced myself to take a deep, calming breath. Meeting people for the first time was . . . hard. Teresa probably never saw that side of me because we quickly bonded over our mutual disinterest in music appreciation, but typically, I wasn’t good at meeting people. As pathetic as it sounded, I always worried if they were busy wondering about the scar on my face, and I knew they would, because I would. It was human nature.
As she came around the bar grinning, I wondered if people could actually see her behind the bar. “Hi,” she said, shoving out a dainty hand. “I’m Roxanne, but everyone calls me Roxy. Please call me Roxy.”
“Calla.” I shook her hand, laughing. “Nice to meet you, Roxy.”
She slid her purse off her shoulder. “Jax says you go to college at Shepherd, studying nursing?”
My gaze flickered over to where he stood. Damn, he worked and talked fast. “Yeah. You’re at the community college?”
“Yeppers peppers.” Reaching up, she adjusted her glasses. “Nothing as cool as nursing. Working toward a computer graphics degree.”
“That’s pretty damn cool. You can draw, too?”
She nodded. “Yep. Drawing and painting kind of runs in the family. Not the most lucrative career choice, but it’s something that I love to do. Figured taking it into the graphic design world would be better than choosing the life of a starving artist.”
“I’m jealous,” I admitted, brushing my hair over my left shoulder. “I’ve always wanted to be able to draw, but I can’t even draw a stick figure without it looking half stupid. Two things I generally lack—art and talent.”
A laugh burst from her. “I’m sure you’re talented at something else.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Does talking and not knowing when to shut up count?”
Roxy laughed again, and I saw Jax glance at us. “That is a true talent. I’m going to drop off my purse. I’ll be right back.”
When she came back, we worked the bar together and, like Jax, she was supercool and patient. The customers loved her kooky sense of humor, which included doodling on the napkins she gave out, and apparently had to do with her T-shirt choices. It seemed like a lot of people rolling in checked out what her shirt said before they even placed an order.
The bar wasn’t too busy, but as Thursday evening rolled on by, the seating area filled out, and because I was slow, I moved out from behind the bar.
Jax caught my arm. “You’re forgetting something.”
“What?”
The half grin appeared as he turned his hand around my arm, tugging me toward him. I bit down on my lip as I stumbled forward, having no idea what he was about. I got close to him, close enough that when he reached down to a cubbyhole, his arm brushed my thigh.
“Got to wear an apron when you’re out there.”
My brows rose as I stared at the half apron. “Seriously?”
He jerked his chin at Pearl.
I sighed when I saw she had one tied around her waist, and then snatched it from him. “Whatever.”
“It goes great with your shirt.”
I rolled my eyes.
Jax laughed. “Let me help.”
“The last time I checked, I can tie an apron without—” I gaped at him. Somehow the apron was back in his hand and his other hand landed on my hip, startling me. “What are you doing?”
“Helping you out.” He bent his head toward my left ear, and I immediately turned my cheek. “Jumpy?” he asked.
I shook my head, finding that I had no idea how to form syllables, and that was embarrassing.
Without saying a word, he turned me around so my back was to his front, and then he slipped an arm between his waist and mine. I didn’t dare move.
“You can breathe, you know.” His arm trailed across my lower stomach, setting off a chain of flutters, as he spread the apron.
“I’m breathing,” I forced out.
Amusement colored his tone. “You sure about that, honey?”
“Yeah.”
Pearl entered the bar just then, carrying a tray of clean glasses. She arched her brows in our direction. “Getting hands-on, Jackie boy?”
“Jackie boy?” I mumbled.
Jax chuckled not too far from my ear. “Tying knots is hard.”
“Uh-huh,” replied Pearl.
“And I like getting hands-on with her,” he added.
My face felt like I’d been baking in the sun by the time he finished, which was an absurdly long time if you thought about it. When I felt the final tug of the knot being secured, he gripped both sides of my hips.
Holy sparks in a room of flammable material.
“All good.” His hands slid off my hips, and then he was giving me a gentle shove toward the exit to the bar floor. “Have fun.”
Shooting him a look over my shoulder, my lips pursed as he let loose that damn laugh that I decided that I did not, under any circumstances, find sexy. Nope. Not at all.
It was totally sexy.
Chapter 7
Helping work the floor with Pearl, taking bar orders, and running food from the kitchen wasn’t bad. Wasn’t sure what it meant when it came to tips, and since I wasn’t really employed, there was no hourly wage, so I hoped it didn’t mean suck.
Mindless work, but I didn’t think about much of anything as I zoomed back and forth, and I could almost pretend that I had chosen this job out of want and not need. The only thing I couldn’t help wonder about was Mom, where she was and if she was okay. It was a familiar worry I’d spent many years obsessing over until I could practically feel the ulcers forming in my belly. I wasn’t going to do that again. At least that’s what I told myself, but if I was being honest with myself, and who wanted to do that on the regular, I knew better.
I dropped off a plate of wings at a table I was guessing was full of off-duty cops or army guys, based on their nearly identical buzz haircuts. And holy billy goats, there were a lot of yummy-looking guys sitting there. The hot guy Jax had been chatting with earlier had joined them, and I was a little nervous approaching their table since I was busy picturing each of the guys in different uniforms and liking what I saw in my head.
“Thanks,” one of the guys said as I placed a truckload of napkins on the table. Up close, he had the most amazing blue eyes.
I smiled as I clasped my hands together. “Need any refills or anything?”
“We’re good,” another one spoke up, grinning.
Nodding, I quickly skedaddled back to the bar to relieve Roxy for her break. I had no idea how Jax looked like he just arrived, full of smiles and energy, even though he’d been here as long as I had. Working a kink out of my neck, I headed to where a guy who couldn’t be much older than me was waiting. The day had been long and flip-flops were so not appropriate for bar work, causing my feet to ache, but I didn’t want to complain.
The cash in the pocket of my apron helped keep my lips in a smile formation.
“What can I get you?”
He rubbed a hand across the front of his oversized white shirt as his gaze quickly shifted away from me. “Uh, how about a Bud?”
“Tap or bottle?”
“Bottle.” His gaze swung back to me as he hitched up his baggy jeans.
“Coming right up.” Turning, I stepped around Jax and grabbed a bottle. When Mona’s got busy, it had to be crazy behind here, and I was kind of, surprisingly, excited about the prospect. There had to be a sort of Zen in being that busy. Heading back to the customer, I popped the lid, smiling as a little cool air rolled up from the open neck. “Tab or pay as you go?”
“Pay as I go.” He took the beer as he leaned back from the bar and muttered, “Shame.”
My brow arched up. “Shame?” Seriously doubted that was his name or something. “I’m sorry?”
The guy took a long swig of his beer and his brows knitted. “It’s a shame.”
I glanced around, not sure what he was talking about and wondering if he was already drunk. I hadn’t had to cut anyone off yet, and I really wasn’t looking forward to that moment. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Jax stop and angle his body toward us. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not really following.”
With the hand holding his beer, he made a circle in the air around about where my head was. “Your face,” he clarified, and I sucked in a sharp breath. “It’s a shame.”
Every muscle in my body locked up as I stared at the guy. Somehow, maybe because I’d been so busy running back and forth, I’d done the impossible. Forgotten about the scar. That wasn’t an easy thing to do. Not only had the scar cut into my skin, it had sliced deep, becoming a very tangible part of me. I knew it was visible, even with the Dermablend, just faded into a thin cut, but I had forgotten.
Taking another deep swig of his beer, he continued. “I bet you were really hot one time.”
That statement stung. Oh yeah, it was like stepping on a pissed-off hornet. It shouldn’t bother me, some random asshole’s opinion, but the sting coursed through me. I didn’t know what to do or how to respond. It had been so long since anyone even commented on it. Probably because people who knew me, who weren’t shocked by the scar, always surrounded me when the makeup faded after a long day.
“Get the fuck out.”
I jumped at the sound of the deep voice growling behind me and turned. Jax stood there, his eyes flashing and jaw tight, set in a hard line. Dumbly, I wondered why he wanted me to leave. I hadn’t done anything, and it wasn’t like he didn’t realize my face was slightly on the disfigured side.
But he wasn’t talking to me.
Of course not.
Duh.
Jax was staring down the guy on the other side of the bar, and then he was moving forward. Slamming one hand down on the bar top, he launched up over the bar, landing nimbly on the other side, inches from the guy.
“Holy crap,” I whispered, eyes wide.
I’d never seen anyone do something like that. Didn’t even know it was possible. Jax hadn’t even hit a bar stool. It was like he propelled himself over the bar all the time. Maybe that’s what he did during downtime, winging himself back and forth over the bar.
Pearl stopped in the middle of the bar floor, staring at Jax, and she didn’t look too surprised, which I found odd. His buddy at the table stood. The rest of the guys at the table were twisted in their seats, faces set, but not with curiosity. More like they were ready to jump to their feet any second.
Jax snatched the bottle out of the guy’s grasp as he slammed a hand in the middle of the guy’s chest, knocking him back several feet.
“Whoa, man, what the hell’s your problem?” White Shirt asked, catching himself.
“I said, get the fuck out of here.” Jax got right up in his face, and him being a good head taller than the other guy, it was pretty impressive. “Right this fucking second, you wannabe fucking gangster.”
“What the fuck? I didn’t do anything wrong.” White Shirt shot back. “Just trying to get a drink.”
“I don’t give two fucks what you were trying to do.” The muscles in his back rippled under his shirt. “All I care about right now is you getting the fuck out of the bar.”
“Man, that’s messed up.” White Shirt Guy cocked his head like he was about to throw down, which by the sound and look of Jax, I was going to say would be a very bad idea. “You can’t just kick me out for that shit.”
And White Shirt Guy pointed right at me.
My stomach tumbled again, and before I realized what I was doing, I’d reached up, pressing my fingers against the slightly raised line on my cheek. I jerked my hand away.
He wasn’t done. “What did you expect, man? Not my fault she’s Mona’s daughter. Ain’t like you can’t notice her face—”
“Finish that sentence and I’ll fuck your face up so badly you’ll be seeing double for the rest of your life, ass hat.”
Oh God, this was getting out of hand. I stepped against the bar top. “Jax, just drop it. Not a big deal.”
The White Shirt Guy’s face flushed a deep pink. “Aw, bro, you’re really starting to piss me off.”
Thank God his friend was up and standing beside them now because Jax didn’t seem to hear me. “Come on, Mack,” Jax’s friend said, catching him by the arm and not too gently leading him to the door. “Get the hell out of here before Jax lays into you.”
“What the fuck?” Mack exploded, causing me to jump again, and the muscles to tighten in my neck and back. “You’re not on duty, Reece, so you can—”
“On duty or off, you might want to rethink that sentence.”
Ah, so Reece, his friend, was a cop. Hands shaking, I smoothed them down my thighs, hoping this whole scene would be over soon. Everyone in the bar was listening over the music, watching the confrontation go down. That made everything so much worse.
Jax stalked them toward the door, his hands clenched into big fists at his sides.
“You fucked up,” Mack said, stopping at the door, having to get one last word in. “You think you got trouble now? You ain’t seen shit, you mother—”
“God, you guys never fucking learn,” Reece muttered, shoving Mack out the door, and as he disappeared into the night, Reece glanced back at Jax. “I’ll make sure the piece of shit gets out of here.”
“Thanks,” Jax muttered, wheeling back around. His gaze landed on me.
“Was it because of Mona?” Pearl asked in a low voice, and that answered why she wasn’t surprised when Jax had vaulted over the bar. “Did she—”
“No,” he growled, heading around the bar. “Watch the bar until Roxy gets off break.”
Confusion pulled at Pearl’s lips, but she nodded as she smoothed a hand back over her blond hair. “Got it.”
I didn’t move as I watched Jax stalk around the bar, stopping at the entrance. He motioned at me. “Come here.”
My heart was pounding, and I didn’t want to move forward, because he sounded and looked pissed, and I wasn’t sure if he was mad at me. After all, he’d relented quickly on the whole idea of me working here, but that didn’t mean he was pro Calla. The fact that a fight had almost broken out the first night I was working probably wasn’t good.
“Come here,” Jax demanded again, voice hard as slate. “Now.”
Breath lodging somewhere in my throat, my feet moved toward him. As I passed Pearl on the way out, she sent me a concerned look. I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, but still, none of this was good.
“Jax—”
He clasped my hand, pulling me the rest of the way out from behind the bar. “Not right now.”
It took a lot in me, but I clamped my mouth shut as he led me back down the hall, toward the office. Opening the door, he hauled me inside, and my stomach was somewhere around my toes as he slammed the door shut. I tried again, but when he wheeled on me, his hand still around mine, all the words died on the tip of my tongue.
Our gazes collided for a fraction of a second, and then I dipped my chin to the left and drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry about what happened out there. I—”
“Are you fucking apologizing?”
My gaze rose to his. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, the guy was a dick, but he—”
“You’re fucking serious?” His eyes were so dark I wondered how they changed color like that. “You have no reason to apologize for that fucking asshole.”
“It’s my first night and you had to kick someone out.”
“I don’t care if it was your first night or your tenth night, someone acts like that, then they’re out. No second chances.” He was staring down at me, and the look in his eyes was so intense it was like he could see right through me.
“You’re not mad at me?”
“What?” His eyes widened as his hand slipped up to my elbow. “Why in the hell would I be mad at you, Calla?”
I shook my head. Thinking about it, it did sound like a stupid question.
His eyes narrowed. “You can’t be serious.”
Suddenly, desperation to be out of this room, or at least change the subject, washed over me with the force of a tidal wave. “He said something about trouble—Mack did. Was he talking about Mom?”
“That doesn’t matter right now.”
I thought it did. “Then why am I back here?”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
The words repeated themselves through my head. He wanted to make sure I was okay and that . . . that was sweet.
“You did nothing wrong out there,” Jax went on as he squeezed my arm gently, reassuringly. “I’m pissed because that was utter bullshit.”
“Yeah, well, it was, but . . .”
He cocked his head to the side. “But what?”
Warmth crept into my face, and I took a step back, going as far as I could with his hand around my elbow.
“What, Calla?” He reclaimed the space, the tips of his boots brushing my toes.
I took another step back, and I was against the wall, back flush with it, and he was still right in front of me. The entire length of my body shimmered with awareness. I started to look away, to turn my head.
Like the night before, two fingers curled around my chin, forcing my face straight on with his, and it was with his head lowered near mine. And his mouth . . . it was inches from mine.
“You don’t believe what he said, do you?” His voice was deceptively low, soft.
My throat dried.
He let go of my arm and pressed his hand against the wall, beside my head, keeping the other one at my chin. “I can’t believe this shit.”
I blinked. “It’s not like I have a low self-esteem. I just believe in reality—like I’m Realistic Rachel.”
“Realistic Rachel?” His brows knitted as he mouthed the words again silently.
“Yeah,” I breathed. What I was about to say was true. “I know what people see when they look at me. Most people don’t say anything because they’re not jerks, but I know what they see. It’s been that way since I was ten years old. And there’s no changing that.”
Jax stared at me, his full lips slightly parted. “What do they see, Calla?”
“Do I really need to spell that out?” I shot back, irritated and frustrated and about a thousand other things. “I think it’s pretty obvious.”
His eyes searched mine. “Yeah, it is obvious.”
Even though that’s what I’d been saying this whole time, hearing him agree still felt like a punch to the boob. I wanted to look away, but he wasn’t allowing it. “I think I need to get back out—”
His mouth landed on mine.
Oh my lawd . . .
There was no warning, nothing that would’ve given away what he’d been about to do. One second I was talking, and then the next, his warm mouth was on mine.
Jax kissed me.
Chapter 8