Chapter 12 #2
“Nope, I’ll put it away,” I reply, taking the bottle and replacing the topper before slipping it inside the cooler. When Collin finishes his order, he turns his attention my way, so I add, “Thank you.”
“For?”
I nod to where my mom and aunts are having a seat at the table, their plates full of snacks as they prepare for tonight’s painting class. “Them.”
He shrugs. “Hey, I just made up fake names so you wouldn’t know it was them,” he replies with a chuckle. The gravelly timbre of his voice sends waves of something dirty straight to the apex of my legs and makes my nipples tight.
“Well, it was the best surprise.”
“Good. And the smile on your face was worth it.”
I look his way, still grinning. An electrical charge seems to fill the space around us, sucking all available oxygen from the room. Everything and everyone just fades away. It’s as if we’re the only two people left remaining in the world. It’s both exhilarating and scary all at the same time.
“I, uh, better go check the food,” I reply, clearing my throat. Glancing at the bar and finding the regulars enjoying a heaping plate of snacks, I add, “I made plenty. Probably too much. Help yourself.”
He nods once and keeps his eyes glued to me. “Thanks.”
I slip away and check everything on the table.
I made a large crockpot of meatballs, as well as a charcuterie board of meats, cheeses, crackers, dips, fruits, and nuts.
Plus, a variety of desserts I purchased from the bakery inside the grocery store.
All in all, I know I overdid it, but I wanted to make sure I had enough.
Once I have the first event under my wing, I’ll be able to plan a little better for the next one.
But something tells me there won’t be as much left as I think.
Most of the ladies are snacking, but I imagine they’ll restock their plates as the night goes on.
Not to mention the guys at the bar and Collin.
I had planned for them to snack too, even if they aren’t attending paint night.
They’re still paying customers, and I’d never tell them they couldn’t have something I was serving to other guests in the same building.
At exactly six o’clock, Anita starts her class. I stand off to the side and watch as she goes through the steps of creating tonight’s painting. There’s a completed one at the front of the room, and she’ll be painting another along with her twenty students. All I can do is watch it happen.
“Well, is it everything you wanted it to be?”
I don’t startle when Collin steps up beside me, because I could smell his woodsy soap or whatever he uses before he started talking. “Yes.”
“Good.”
I can hear the smile in his voice, and when I glance his way, I catch it on his lips. “Did you eat?” I already know he did, but I like talking to him and find myself wanting to drag out any conversation I can.
“I did, thank you.” After a beat he adds, “Tonight went well, I think.”
“I agree.”
“I, uh, wanted to apologize.”
That gives me pause. “What? Why?”
“Because I was wrong.” His blue eyes bore into mine and steal my breath. “This place looks better than I could have imagined, and the things you’re doing are bringing in new customers. Not just that, you’re bringing in the right kind of customers. Well done.”
The pride I feel swelling in my chest is intense.
It’s as great as hearing my family praise me for what I’ve accomplished in such a short amount of time on a budget.
It’s validation I made the right decision moving here and starting my own place.
I wanted this. Something to call my own. Something I could be proud of.
It hasn’t been easy. My savings is basically gone, and some of the other projects I want to do are on hold for a while, like the bathroom upstairs.
It’s not pretty, but I won’t complain. I have running, hot water and a roof over my head that doesn’t leak.
Eventually, I’ll save up more money and be able to check more repairs off the list.
I know it.
“Lizzie!” My attention is pulled to where Anita stands. “Come on, we’re going to take a group picture with our masterpieces.”
Smiling, I look to Collin and say, “Excuse me,” before practically skipping to where the group is gathering with their paintings.
I stole a few photos throughout the evening, capturing the work in progress.
I feel like I’m floating on cloud nine with how well tonight’s event went, especially after seeing the finished paintings and the smile on each of the ladies’ faces as they gather for a photo.
I snap a few pictures of the group proudly showing off their paintings when Collin steps up behind me. “Get in there.”
“Yes!” everyone hollers, inviting me to join them for another group photograph.
They part down the middle and make a spot for me to slip in right beside my mom.
Collin takes a few shots of the whole class, and when everyone starts to disburse to clean up their area and get more food and drinks, I turn to my family and ask Collin to take one more picture of me with my mom and aunts.
I don’t even care I have tears in my eyes as I smile happily for the camera.
I’ll print that photo and put it in my office—my first official successful event and the four women who mean the most to me.
The rest of the night progresses quickly, and before I know it, my family is heading back home to Stewart Grove and I’m closing down the bar with Collin.
He’s quiet as he locks the front entrance, and the room suddenly feels too small.
Too quiet. Moving to where the old jukebox is mounted, I select a few classic country songs to fill the silence.
Alan Jackson starts to sing about life next to the Chattahoochee River, and I find myself smiling and humming along.
I let Collin do his thing behind the bar, while I work on tearing down the remnants of the paint party.
I was a little nervous painting over the floors I just refinished, but at the end of the day, this place has life and reflects the good, the bad, and the ugly that is life.
If paint got on the floor, then so be it.
I’d clean it the best I could and move on.
Fortunately, I don’t see anything damaging and continue on with my business. I get everything torn down and start moving the tables to the back hallway. Cade dropped them off earlier this morning and said he’d come back tomorrow for everything.
“Let me help,” Collin says, jumping in and helping me carry the tables. Of course, he grabs one in each hand, and the job is complete pretty swiftly.
“I really appreciate your family letting me borrow their tables,” I say.
“No problem. Better than renting them from some company or buying new,” he states with a shrug.
“Very true. And these plastic ones are fairly lightweight and durable.” I wipe my hands down my pants. “Plus, I love that they fold in half. Sure makes moving them easier.”
My heart rate is elevated, and it’s not because of a little extra exertion. I moved and set up the tables with ease, so I know it’s not that.
It’s Collin.
I don’t know why he gets under my skin the way he does, and it’s not in a bad or annoying way. It’s simply…him. His scent, his powerful gaze, his uncanny ability to get me without even trying. I can sense his nearness, and my body reacts. It gravitates toward him all on its own.
“You okay?” he whispers, his mouth surprisingly close to my ear.
I don’t know when he moved to stand before me, but he’s right here, and it takes every ounce of control I have not to lean into him. “Yes,” I reply, my voice breathy and at a higher pitch than normal.
Our eyes meet, and I swear I can see the flames dancing in those sapphire pools. It reflects his desire, his raw need. It’s alive, clawing to the surface like a tangible being. Or perhaps that’s just the reflection of everything in my own eyes dying to be unleashed.
I need to walk away, to put some distance between us before I do something I might regret later.
Like throw myself at him.
Because let’s be honest.
I’m his boss.
End of story.
And anything happening between us would be unprofessional, right?
Right.
That’s what I tell myself. Problem is, I don’t think I believe it.
Especially when I turn to excuse myself, and I’m met with his mouth pressed firmly against mine.
Suddenly, kissing him feels like not only the best idea ever, but the only one.
I am all in, even if it’s going to cost me.