Contents ( 30)
- Dedication
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Epilogue
- About the Author
- Discover other titles by Kristen Ashley:
He grinned a grin that many children would witness and have nightmares for decades.
“Don’t tell anyone.”
I rolled my eyes and walked to the office to get rid of my purse. When I walked out, Dee was out on the floor with her tray, which meant I was back of the bar with Feb.
I got the lay of the land, made some drinks, then hit my posse at the end.
“You ready for your show?” I asked Dusty.
She made pottery. It was awesome pottery, but I didn’t get it since she also made a shit-ton of money off it. Apparently, some people really liked pottery. Enough to spend hundreds of dollars on just one piece.
“Yeah,” she answered. “And I’ve set a piece aside to give to you and Merry for your wedding.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Don’t you start with that shit. You’re a chick. You’re supposed to have my back.”
“It’s more fun to mess with you,” she returned.
Damn.
I should have seen it coming.
Dusty was a lot like me. She had some girlie in her but not much. Mostly she was a straight shooter who had it completely together.
I lifted my hand and did a sweep of the far end of the bar, declaring, “I think Feb can cover you all with drinks.”
“Weak,” Cal grunted.
“I need to be in a good disposition to earn tips,” I retorted.
“Why?” he shot back. “You been earnin’ tips for years not in one.”
He had a point.
“You can kiss my ass too,” I returned.
“Lame,” he muttered.
He was not wrong.
God, with Merry giving me the warm and squishy, making me happy, I was losing my edge.
I wasn’t proud of continuing the lameness, but I actually did have to earn tips.
So I muttered back, “Whatever,” and wandered down the bar.
The night wore on and it was Friday at J&J’s. Time to herald in the weekend and do it right by going out, throwing a few back, and communing with your ’burg brethren.
So I was busy.
And it was much later when the opportunity was afforded to him.
Being Benny, he took it.
Cal was deep in conversation with Ryker and Colt, Vi at his side, his arm curled around her neck, holding her close. And Mike, Dusty, and Frankie were gabbing with Dee, who was standing with them, carrying a full tray of empties.
Benny was in on the Cal conversation, but he made himself free to catch my eyes when I was forced down their way to nab a bottle of beer that was in the fridge closest to them.
“Happy?” he asked quietly, just for me.
“Yeah,” I answered quietly, just for him.
“Good,” he replied and gave me the flash of his white, movie star smile.
He was wrong.
It wasn’t good.
It was beautiful.
But I didn’t correct him.
I looked to his pregnant wife, then back to him.
He knew what beauty meant.