I clean up a few more tables, asking a few others if they need their drinks freshened up. “It’s kind of slow today, huh?” I ask Max after I wipe down the bar. I’m usually on the floor more than I am behind the bar, but with it being dead, it looks better to stand behind here than to look like an idiot, standing and waiting for someone to need you.
“It is. Hopefully, once we get karaoke started up, things will get rolling.” I glance at my watch, seeing that there’s still another hour until that happens and that there’s a text that I must not have noticed.
“I think I’m going to take my break, is that okay?” I ask him, bored out of my skull and needing to get some fresh air along with a sandwich from down the street before they close for the evening.
“Go on. If it doesn’t pick up when karaoke hits, I’ll send you home. You’ve worked more than enough this week.” Max isn’t a member of the club, but he’s devoted to the bar, big, burly, and old enough to be my grandfather. I don’t tell him that, though; he’s well into his sixties but could run circles around me any day of the week.
“Alright, you want me to pick you up anything?” I really don’t mind staying till the bar closes, but Max is right. Besides last night off and it being a Saturday, I’ve worked every day this week. Thankfully, tomorrow is Monday, which means we’re closed, the one day I cram all my errands into. The dreaded grocery shopping. I’m not the typical twenty-something-year-old who has no problem eating out. I’m the exact opposite and love to cook at home. The only reason I’m picking up dinner tonight is because I didn’t peel myself away from Jackson until the last minute, and even then, he wasn’t letting me go without a deep and long make-out session. Of course, he walked me to my car to do that, even though I thieved a pair of his boxers and a shirt to wear home. I knew what Jackson was doing, and for the first time since I’ve landed in Texas permanently, he had me thinking things only little girls do.
“Nah, I’m good, Sailor. Thank you, though.” I nod, grab my phone from under the counter that’s stowed there with my purse, and make my way out of the bar. I glance at my phone now that I’m not on the clock and kick my own ass for not seeing the message sooner.
Jackson: On a run. I’ll check in when I can. You need anything and can’t reach me, call Dad or Hawk.
That text was from two hours ago. “Shit,” I say under my breath. If I had seen it right away, I could have at least called him. Now there’s no telling when I’ll hear from him or if he’ll respond to the text I’m rapid fire typing out.
Me: Yes, sir, Jackson, aye, aye, captain. Be safe. Call or text when you can <3
I put my phone away already knowing he won’t see it right away, especially if he’s on his motorcycle. God, that man is something else when he’s riding—smooth, confident, and sexy as hell. Clearly, my mind is on all things Jackson today. Maybe if I get to leave early today, I’ll go over to Lavender’s and see what she’s up to. She mentioned coming to the bar tonight, but I doubt that will happen. I love my best friend, but she’s become a hermit, not that I blame her. She’s got a man who loves her, an adorable baby boy, and a beautiful home I’d never leave either. I make it to the sandwich shop, snapping out of my Jackson-induced haze just in time because I almost walked right into a man who has his head glued to his phone and isn’t paying a lick of attention. I get it; people’s phones are their lifeline. That doesn’t mean I want to get plowed into by some stranger, though. I make a tsking noise, shake my head, and shrug it off. Maybe I’m hungrier than I thought, or I’m about to start my period because the tiniest of things are pissing me off, and the fact that Jackson has gone on a run makes me want to cry. Fucking hormones. Men have it so much easier. Lucky shits. They can pee standing up, walk around without a shirt, and don’t bleed for seven days a month. Yep, I’m most definitely in a funk. I’ll be checking the app on my phone once I sit down to eat. That’s got to be the reason I’m all of a sudden emotional.
CHAPTER 8
JACKSON
“You alright?” Bullet asks as we make a second stop today to get gas. I figured I’d be out on the road a lot with becoming a patched member. The only thing I don’t know is how long I’ll be gone. It’s why I sent Sailor a vague text. It’s a good thing I had her all night long. Some of these runs only take a day, some go on for weeks. It just depends on the severity and if we have to move things. This one shouldn’t be too bad, not with us going to our Louisiana chapter.