Chapter Three
Beau
Sometimes being a bar owner sucks, especially when you want to surprise your fake girlfriend. We talked on the phone a couple of nights this week, plus she dropped off those damn sweets I love so much, which in turn had me running three miles a day instead of my usual two. I’m not going to complain, though, about seeing her sweet face and sexy-as-sin curves. Hell, the whole town knows we’re together even if I haven’t taken her out on a first date yet, which was supposed to happen tonight.
It’s a busy Friday night. One of my bartenders called out, which is a rarity, so while it sucks, I get it. That means I’ll be doing something with Lily tomorrow instead, which might be for the better. Neither of us works on Sundays, and if everyone is here tomorrow, I’m turning my phone off and we’re having a night to ourselves.
I’m busy slinging drinks, working behind the bar, when she walks in. I damn near spill the beer I just poured for a customer.
“Fuck,” I grumble under my breath. She’s not by herself though. It seems Lily brought her friends Amelia and Wren.
“Looks like you’ve got trouble on your hands,” one of the patrons says, but I’m too busy taking Lily in to respond to him. Apparently, that doesn’t stop me from growling at him. “I get you. She’s yours.” He holds his hands up in defeat.
“Hey, Beau.” Her voice comes out breathless. My eyes take her in. She has her hair in some kind of bun on top of her head, tendrils falling loosely, framing her face. The floral dress she’s wearing is tight around the top, giving a hint of cleavage, and I thank God she’s wearing a jean jacket. If all the skin were bare to every Tom, Dick, and Harry in my bar, I’d be the one starting the fights instead of breaking them up.
“Hey, honey, this is a surprise.” I walk around the bar, wanting to let everyone know just who Lily belongs to, even if this is fake.
“I wanted to see you.” My hands move to her hips as she reaches up to wrap her arms around my shoulders.
“Then it’s a good thing you know where to find me.” I bend down, nuzzling her neck, wanting her lips on mine, but not here and not right now. The other day was different; there were one or two people here. Tonight it’s everyone and their brother, which isn’t the time for that knowing full well I won’t stop at a chaste kiss this time.
“You don’t mind, right?” Lily asks when we pull apart.
“Not at all. Are you planning on staying a while?”
“It depends on the girls. We all drove here separately in case we wanted to leave at different times. It’s something we’ve always done, mostly because I’m a night owl and they aren’t. It comes in handy when you own a sweets store.” She winks.
“Have a seat. If you decide to have too many, we’ll just move your car to the back parking lot. I’ll take the couch in the apartment tonight and you can have the bed. I hate that I can’t hang out with you right now, but we’re slammed. Sit on this end of the bar though. I’ll check in when I can.” I kiss her forehead.
“That works. I probably won’t stay too long. I’m opening tomorrow.”
“Alright, what can I get you ladies?” I ask them.
“A pitcher of margaritas, please, with some chips and salsa.” She knows damn well I don’t serve that. She’s lucky I bought the margarita machine a few months ago, and that was only because every woman in this town has some kind of obsession with tequila and lime juice. We all got tired of running a blender every damn ten minutes. Now we put all the ingredients in and pour it over ice or use the other one beside it if they want it frozen.
“Nice try. There’s pretzels or chips?”
“One day, you’ll bring in chips and salsa. Until then, the chips, please.” I shake my head, a smile on my face the entire time. It’s not that I’m opposed to chips and salsa, but with this place having both indoor and outdoor space, that shit gets messy for my staff to deal with.
“Nah, save a dance for me. I’ll spin you around the dance floor a time or two in between breaks,” I tell her after I place their pitcher with a few cups in front of them, letting them pour for themselves.
“Be right back. The band should be playing, and they’re not.” I knock on the wooden bar top, surveying what’s going on and see if I need to get the deejay working until then.
“Alright, see you soon.” The only good thing about the music not playing right now is that I can hear her. Once the music or the live band starts, I won’t be able to unless we’re inches apart. That’s why when I built this bar, I made sure there was inside seating with a dance floor as well as an outdoor area, for a smaller bar, picnic style tables, and off to the side there’s cornhole, horseshoes, and giant-sized Jenga.