Chapter 14
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Lizzie
Everything shifts the moment he walks through the door.
Without even looking up to confirm, I know Collin is here.
There’s a sudden electrical charge in the air, and my body responds instantly.
A shiver sweeps through me, and as much as I try to pretend it’s because my hands were just inside the cooler, grabbing two beers, I know there’s another reason.
It’s the memory of his mouth, his hands on my body—despite keeping them outside of my clothing—that has me on total edge.
“Lizzie!”
I smile. “I should have known double trouble was here.”
Cade’s hand covers his heart as his mouth falls open in mock insult. “That’s cold, Lizzie Lou.”
My eyes narrow at the nickname as I rest one hand on my hip. I do everything I can not to look at Collin, because I know the moment I do, I’ll feel weak in the knees and want to throw myself at him again. With a bar full of customers, that’s the last thing I need to do.
The twins take a seat at the bar after hollering their greetings at the regulars positioned just down from them. “What can I get you?” I ask, dropping a new coaster onto the bar top.
“Nice,” Cade states, picking his up and checking it out. It’s nothing fancy. Just a basic pulpboard coaster with my logo printed on it.
“Thank you,” I reply, waiting for their order.
“I’ll have an All American draft, please,” Cade requests. “This guy has terrible beer at home. Did you know he buys a national brand, Lizzie Lou? Can you believe it? Can’t even support the family.”
A single eyebrow shoots upward, and I risk a quick glance at Collin. He’s just shaking his head, as if apologizing on his brother’s behalf. “Family?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, I know they’re your family, but this place is practically one big family here, so that makes them our family. Get what I’m sayin’?”
“Not really,” I reply, earning a chuckle from Collin.
He sighs. “You two are perfect for each other. Both thorns in my side.”
I bark out a laugh and turn to retrieve his beer. Once it’s poured, I place it on the coaster and turn my attention to Collin. “And for you?”
“Same as the idiot,” he replies with a hint of a smile on his lips.
Lips I want to kiss…
Just as I turn to grab a second frosted mug from the cooler, I hear Cade ask, “Are you sure you want to hang out with this loser, Lizzie Lou? I’m undoubtedly the better choice.
I know you turned me down before, but I’d give you a second chance, because you obviously weren’t thinking clearly the last time we talked. ”
I can feel Collin’s eyes on me as I deliver the second draft to the bar. Placing my elbows on the hard top in front of Cade, I lean forward and whisper, “The loser kisses like a dream, so I’m all set, thanks.”
Collin barks out a laugh and slaps Cade on the shoulder. “Second place, my friend.”
Cade stands up and grabs his beer, sloshing a bit over the rim of his glass. “I’m going to go cry in my beer over there.”
With that, he takes off toward the regulars, instantly jumping into conversation. “Clearly he’s devastated again.”
Collin snorts in response and takes a drink of his beer. “Clearly.” Then he adds, “I didn’t tell him anything…about us.”
My eyebrow draws upward in question once more.
“He just…knew. I know that’s probably hard to believe, but I swear, I didn’t say a word about last night. He just guessed. Accurately, I might add.”
I shrug and move over to where he sits, leaning forward on the bar. I don’t miss the way his eyes drop to the hint of cleavage flashing in the neck of my shirt. “I’m not embarrassed, Collin.”
“I’m not either, but I don’t usually kiss and tell. Well, at least I didn’t in this case.”
“Noted,” I reply.
The door opens, causing us both to look that way. When I see his youngest brother, Camden, walk in with a group of friends, Collin sighs. “I’m going to apologize in advance.”
“For what?”
The group instantly runs toward Collin, yelling loudly until they reach where he sits. Then, as if he weighs nothing, they hoist him up above their heads, carrying him off toward the pool table. I’m left standing here, my mouth hanging open in shock.
“Crap! I missed it,” Charli states the moment she walks through the door less than a minute later.
“What was that?” I ask, my wide eyes still glued to the group of guys who have finally set Collin on the floor and are harassing the hell out of him. The only thing that keeps me from intervening is the fact Collin is smiling, so I know it’s nothing nefarious.
“Collin had a rescue Thursday night at work,” she says, the pride evident in her voice. “Apparently, he told Mom when she was talking to him Friday morning on his way home.”
“Oh, that’s cool.”
She grins and nods. “He doesn’t like to tell people about those times though, and Mom let it slip. Apparently, he and his coworker, Gio, saw a man trapped on the second floor, hanging out of a window. They got there just in time to catch him when he jumped.”
“Wow,” I reply, picturing the scene and the harrowing rescue, as I glance toward the man himself.
“I heard the guy who jumped suffered a few minor burns and smoke inhalation, but for the most part, he’s okay. He could have really hurt himself jumping out of the window if it hadn’t been for Collin and Gio.”
I nod, still staring across the room at Collin. As if feeling my eyes, he glances my way and offers a slight smile. I can tell he hates the attention, but there’s also a sense of pride in the way he grins and accepts the accolades from his friends and family.
I end up buying a round for the bar in honor of Collin, which he hates, mostly because of the extra attention it garners. He accepts the toast his twin makes, even if his cheeks are a little pink throughout it.
I also get to meet his core group of friends, the ones he’s close to and grew up with.
I can definitely tell why he likes them.
They’re a rowdy bunch, but they all seem to click.
It makes me long for those I was close to back home, even if the majority of those people were my family and extended family.
Now, the place has cleared out as the nine o’clock closing time approaches.
Collin and his group left around six to eat and probably crash early, thanks to the few drinks they enjoyed throughout the afternoon.
I smile as I clean and prepare the bar to close.
I sweep and mop, make sure everything is wiped down, and haul the garbage to the back door.
When the clock strikes nine, I flip off the open sign and lock the front door.
It was dead almost the entire last hour, thanks to a rare Sunday evening with no professional ball games on TV.
Plus, it was such a gorgeous weekend—one of the first real warm ones in May—and it appears everyone chose to be at home, probably cooking out or doing whatever else they do around here during the summer.
If there’s one thing I know, the hot, humid days are coming soon.
Summer is stretching her legs, preparing to hang out for a while.
I don’t mind summer. It’s the humidity that gets me. When you have curls in your hair, humidity is the worst thing in the world. It doesn’t matter how much product you put in your hair, it’s a frizzy ball of fuzz that looks nothing like the infomercials for haircare products.
I get the register counted and the tip jar emptied.
I’m shocked to see as much cash as what’s in there, but I suppose it was pretty hopping this afternoon.
Collin and his crew hung out for several hours, shooting pool, listening to music, and generally harassing each other like friends do.
It was actually a really good time. Charli came to the bar and sat with me numerous times, and the more I get to know her, the more I like her.
In fact, I’m going to call the salon next week and schedule an appointment for a massage.
I’ve never had one, but with the way I’ve overworked my body these last few weeks, I could definitely use one.
Just as I put the deposit and cash drawer in the safe, I hear the back door open.
Since that one is locked from the outside, I know it’s someone with a key to get in.
A zing of anticipation slides through my veins, and my nipples harden at the thought of Collin being here.
Then, he’s there, filling the doorway to my office with his confidence and charisma.
“Hey,” he says softly, the deep timbre of his voice rumbling through my core like a freight train.
“Hi,” I reply, locking the safe and turning my full attention his way. “How was dinner?”
He smiles and holds up a container. “It was good. I brought you something to eat. I wasn’t sure if you got to eat anything this evening.”
As if on cue, my stomach growls, making us both chuckle. “No, I haven’t eaten yet. What’d you bring me?” I ask, stepping closer.
He grins. “Come on. You can head upstairs, and I’ll throw the trash in the dumpster.”
“I can do it,” I respond, not wanting him to think I’m not capable of getting two trash bags inside the trash receptacle outside.
“I know you can, but then these French fries will get cold. Might as well eat them while they’re still hot, because cold fries are nasty,” he says, and I realize it’s a losing battle.
Not just because I’m hungry, but simply because he would never stand around and watch me take out the trash and hoist it up and into the dumpster.
He’s not sexist. It’s chivalry, considerate.
Taking the food container, I head for the stairs, while he locks the back door for the bar and grabs the garbage bags, easily lifting them up and heading out the back door to discard them.
My mouth waters as I catch a whiff of the contents of the container, and even though I only know of fries, I can’t wait to dive in.