35. Bridget
35
brIDGET
B right noon sunlight filtered in through the curtains. It was probably past lunchtime, which was breakfast for me. I had to close the bar tonight, but Chase was off, so we didn’t feel the least bit bad about sleeping in. Especially after our tryst at the bar last night.
I shifted as the delicious ache in my center reminded me of every filthy, heart-stopping thing he had done to my body.
My wrists still had a dull throb from being handcuffed to the dartboard. It wasn’t that I couldn’t fathom having a man do that to me. My mind was blown that Chase had done that to me.
For as long as I lived, I would never forget the feral look in his eyes as he had me strung up, tits out, for him.
Chase and I had known each other for as long as I could remember. I would never have imagined the cute boy from middle school growing up into a sex-on-a-stick, gorgeous man. I would have never imagined that the sweet guy who let me cry on his shoulder through countless breakups would pour whiskey on my skin and drink me in like a shot .
Streams of light danced across Chase’s bare chest. His muscles rippled with every gentle breath. It really should have been criminal to be that attractive. Unfair is what it was.
His dark hair was messy. Soft, kissable lips were parted. Thick lashes that women would kill for edged his closed eyes. His nose was adorably crooked.
I remembered when that broken nose had happened—after a football game our junior year. It never quite healed right, but I thought it made him even more attractive.
His square jaw was sharp enough to cut diamonds. An adorable dimple puckered his chin. When he flashed his pearly white smile, his cheeks dimpled too.
That damn smile made my insides all warm and gooey. He knew it and used it to his advantage. The asshole .
But I was in love with him. More than I had ever loved anyone.
I skated my hand across his stomach. His abs were relaxed, but holy V-cuts, Batman. When he was working out or doing yard work, every line and divot was taut. I trailed my fingers through the path of hair leading to my favorite place on his body.
Happy trail was an understatement. I wanted to skip and heel click my way to the promised land of sexual gratification like Dorothy on her way to Oz.
I slid my fingers beneath the elastic waistband of his boxers. Morning—er, afternoon—wood jutted out of the top.
Chase groaned at my touch.
Maybe just a taste…
I shimmied down under the covers and rested my cheek on his stomach. I draped my leg around his and wiggled closer, pressing my bare pussy against his thigh. Putting on panties after having him rip them off at the bar was too much effort. And I really liked how his hands wandered aimlessly over my ass and thigh as we fell asleep .
Chase shifted, but didn’t wake.
I pulled the front of his boxers down and freed his erect cock . The moment I wrapped my lips around his swollen head and sucked, his fingers tangled in the back of my hair.
Chase let out a low groan and tightened his grip. “Mornin’ to you too,” he said in a raspy timbre.
I teased the head of his dick with the tip of my tongue.
He spread his thighs further apart and gave me room to play with his balls.
There was something to be said about the power of a good blowjob. Do it right, and you’ll leave your man speechless and defenseless. Some girls did it to apologize. But this wasn’t apology oral. This was a thank you.
I took him to the back of my throat and closed my eyes, happily treating my man to the perfect wake-up call.
“Goddamn, I love you,” he croaked out, and used his grip on my hair to guide my head up and down in a steady rhythm. “You’re doing so good.”
His praise gave me a little extra motivation. I licked up and down his shaft and lavished the head with sloppy kisses. His cock was dripping like a garden hose when I sucked his balls into my mouth.
“You’re a fuckin’ dream, darlin’.” His fingers tightened in my hair, and I knew he was close. “Bridg?—”
I massaged behind his balls and took his rock-hard cock in my mouth, hollowing my cheeks as I gave him long, hard pulls.
He grunted once, twice, then unloaded. His release hit the back of my throat, and I swallowed it down.
“Get up here,” Chase growled as he dragged me up his chest.
“Baby,” I tipped my head away from him. “I need to brush my teeth.”
“Don’t fuckin’ care.” He crashed his lips to mine before he turned me so that my back was to his chest. His hand snaked around my thigh, parting my legs enough for him to slide his still-hard cock straight into my pussy.
I tried to slide my hips up and down, but he held my waist in an iron grip.
“No, beautiful,” he said, and pressed a kiss to the side of my neck. “Just like this. I just wanna feel you. I want you close.”
I relaxed into the embrace as he palmed my breasts, massaging and kneading them in his hands. His cock throbbed against my tender walls. I had no idea how he was still hard.
“Sleep okay?” I asked.
He laughed quietly as he rolled his thumbs over my pointed nipples and fondled the heaviness of my tits. “Waking up was the best part.” Gently, he combed his fingers through my hair. “You okay after last night?”
I giggled. “A little sore.”
Chase kissed up the back of my neck. “I’ll be dreaming about seeing you spread out on the bar for the rest of my life.”
“Who says it can’t happen again?”
I felt his smile against my skin. “I knew I loved you.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Mhmm.”
“Have you ever done stuff like that with anyone else?”
He took a pause, his body stiffening. “Do you really want to know about my previous sex life?”
I shrugged. “I know some of it.”
There were a few nights pre-Kyle that Chase and I had gotten drunk together and commiserated our shitty dating lives. One—or both—of us were always coming off a breakup, so the timing was never right. We never hooked up. Never made a move.
The poker night Chase followed me out to Maddie and Luca’s strip of beach when I had stepped out for a little peace haunted me. The moment he told me that he would be good to me was the first time he’d ever said something so brash.
I spent countless nights wide awake in Kyle’s bed, wondering what would have happened if Kristin hadn’t interrupted us.
But the past was the past. There was no use wasting energy worrying about it now.
Where we were at this moment in time was right. So right.
Chase let out a quiet sigh. “Women tend to get off on the whole handcuff thing. I’m not above indulging a few fantasies.” He snaked his arm around me and held me close. “But what happened at the bar—only you. From here on out, it’s only us.”
Before I could get another word out, my phone rang. I groaned and reluctantly grabbed it off the nightstand. Chase kissed the back of my head, pulling away from—and out of—me before easing out of bed.
“Hello?”
“I need you to come in a little early,” Wanda shouted over the racket of the bar. She was never one to beat around the bush.
“Things busy today?” I asked.
“Nah, but you and I have some business to discuss, peaches. Bring Chase. See you in the office.”
“I feel like I’m getting called into the principal’s office,” I whispered as Chase pulled into the bar’s parking lot.
“Yeah, if the principal is a scary as hell prohibition-era bootlegger.”
“She’s not that old,” I clipped before conceding, “Close, but she’s not ninety.”
Chase eyed me warily. “How old is she?”
“I dunno. Eighty is my best guess. ”
“Did she say why she wanted to see you?”
I shook my head. “Do you think she knows what we did last night?”
He grinned. “Y’all are gonna have a real awkward conversation if she does.”
I smacked his stomach. “You’re in trouble here, too!”
“How am I in trouble?” He laughed. “Maybe she wants to thank me for my years of loyal patronage!”
“Loyal patronage my ass,” I muttered.
Chase yanked his keys out of the ignition. “Please. I tip even when I don’t get anything.” He leaned over and pecked my pursed lips. Lips that were as unforgiving as a brick wall.
“You’re the reason the water bill’s so damn high.”
Chase’s jovial mood turned sour. “What’s going on, Bee?” He reached across the console and took my hand, lacing our fingers together. “I was just messing with you.”
The words spilled out before I could stop them. “What if I lose my job? What if…” I dropped my head into my hands. “What if I just fucked everything up because I was trying to live out some stupid fetish.”
“Hey, hey—” He was already leaning across the cab, cupping my face in his palms. Gently, he caressed my cheekbones with his thumbs. His dark eyes dropped to my mouth, staring at them for a moment before swiping his thumb across the pout of my lower lip. “Everything will be okay.”
I let out a barely audible sigh and nodded as I rested my forehead against his. “I actually believe you when you say it.”
“Good.” He pressed his lips to my forehead. “Now, let’s go inside and see what Wanda wants. The sooner you get off work, the sooner I have you back in our bed.”
He held my hand—and the door—for me as we walked inside. A few of my regulars were parked at the bar, but it wasn’t exceptionally busy. Maybe I’d be able to check off a few of the maintenance tasks I had been meaning to get to.
I walked in front of Chase, leading him around the back of the U-shaped bar to the kitchen entrance. We took a hard left down a skinny hallway and slipped into the office.
Wanda—in an OBX sweatshirt and tattered jeans—sat behind the desk. I could barely see her over the mountain of invoices that buried the desk. Thanks to me, they were all paid.
A silver-haired man in a nicely tailored suit stood off to the side. Chase and I crammed inside, and I worried that there wouldn’t be enough oxygen in the shoebox room for all four of us.
Wanda eyed us suspiciously when Chase placed his hand on the small of my back and gave me reassuring strokes with his fingers.
“Bee, this is Johnny.” Wanda jerked her silver beehive toward the suit. “Johnny, this is Bee.”
He looked slightly put off by her gruff nature but kept his poker face on tight. “Jonathan Hartley with Hartley, Foss, and Grant.” He fished an embossed business card from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
I took it, still confused as to what the ever-loving hell was going on. Apparently, Hartley, Foss, and Grant was a fancy law firm out of Morehead City.
“Bridget McGrath.”
“Well,” Wanda said as she slammed her hands on the desk and heaved her behind out of the wonky desk chair. “Now that I’ve made introductions, I’m outta here.”
And with those parting words, she was gone.
Chase and I shared a look of utter confusion as she breezed by. Jonathan looked unfazed.
“Um, Mr. Hartley,” I began. “I’m sorry, I have no idea what this is all about. ”
“Well,” he said, producing a file. “I believe I can do a little to enlighten you and Mr. Brannan.” He nodded toward Chase.
Huh. Wanda hadn’t introduced Chase, yet he knew who he was.
“I have represented Ms. Sutton’s business interests for the last few years. My father previously represented her and this—” he looked around at the missing ceiling tiles and buzzing fluorescent light “— establishment before he retired.” He lifted the mysterious file. “If I may?”
I motioned for him to get to the damn point already. Chase tightened the arm that was around my waist, pulling me closer and whispering, “I love you.”
Jonathan cleared his throat. “I, Wanda Sutton, resident in the town of Beaufort, County of Carteret, State of North Carolina, being of sound mind, not acting under duress or undue influence, and fully understand the nature and extent of all my property and of this disposition thereof, do hereby make, publish, and declare this document to be my will. On this date of May 3, 2019, I devise and bequeath the property and business entity of Jokers Beer and Billiards to be shared equally between Bridget McGrath and Chase Brannan. The property and assets may be sold in their entirety. However, if the establishment is to remain in business, it is to be done as joint business partners. At no point may one owner buy out the other or give up their stake.”
Everything else the man in the suit said was absolute gibberish. It sounded like garbled speech that had me thinking either he was having a stroke or I was.
“What the fuck?” Chase’s jaw had landed somewhere between liquor invoices from the ABC commission and a letter from the health department that Wanda had been ignoring for months.
“Yeah,” I chimed in. “What he said.”
Jonathan peered over the edge of his papers.
“Pardon my French, but what the fuck is going on?” I snapped .
He let out an annoyed sigh. “If I may speak freely, Ms. McGrath.”
“Please fucking do,” I exclaimed, exasperated at Wanda’s antics. “And I hope you start with, You’ve been punk’d, and Ashton Kutcher is right around the corner !”
He held up his hands in defense. “No pranks. No cameras. No Kutcher.” He shuffled the papers back into the folder. “Years ago, Ms. Sutton had a health scare and drew up papers, leaving the bar to you—” he looked me dead in the eye “—in the event that she passed. About three years ago, she called my firm and asked to have the terms amended, adding Mr. Brannan to the desired ownership.”
I rolled the timeline around in my head.
Holy shit.
I stormed out of the office.
Chase and the suit were discussing something about legal counsel and terms, but it was all in one ear and out the other. Wanda had parked her behind on a barstool and was pouring herself a beer—backward—from the tap.
“You wanna tell me what the hell that was?” I snapped as I stomped behind the bar. “What the fuck?”
She reared her head back, daring me to use that tone with her again.
I slapped my hands on the bar and leaned over it. “You’re not dead. So, unless I’m talking to your ghost, tell me why the hell an attorney is reading your will.”
Wanda took a long pull from her beer. “I’m tired.”
“Yeah, we all are.”
“The last few years, you’ve been running this place more than I have. Hell, the last decade. You pour drinks. You do the books. You make the schedules. You pay the vendors. Do the ordering. It’s about damn time you took your cut. ”
She wasn’t wrong, but I had never done those things because I was trying to push her out. I saw a need, and I filled it. Paper products needed to be ordered? Done. Our supplier upped their prices—I was the one making spreadsheets comparing our options.
Still hadn’t gotten around to fixing that damn door, though…
“Why Chase?” I asked, just a little hurt. “You don’t think I can do it by myself?”
Wanda let out a harrumphing laugh that turned into a cough. She washed it down with more beer. “Bee, you can run this shithole better than I can. You’d return my baby back to her former glory. But I never trusted that Kingsley feller. I’ve seen too many of his kind prowling around over the years. Maybe that’s why I never got married or had kids. But you’re the closest thing I ever had to a daughter. I want good things for you. Brannan’s a good one. Even if it did take you nearly dying for him to get his head out of his ass and tell you how he felt.” She sighed. “I thought that if you stayed with that other fuck bucket, splitting the ownership with Chase meant that Kingsley couldn’t take it from you. Couldn’t make you sell it off if you didn’t want to.”
A lump bloomed inside my throat. “Why now?”
Wanda’s usual take-no-shit demeanor softened to that of a surly grandma. “Well, sugar. Like you, I’ve met a man. Hopped on the interface and signed up for one of them dating applications.”
“You mean the internet ?”
She waved off the clarification like it was nothing but a bother. “You love this place more than I do. Always have. I liked pouring drinks, making money, and hearing the good gossip. You love the community. The people. Giving them a place to feel welcome. I don’t want you taking over this joint because somethin’ terrible happened to me. Let’s just call this a good thing and leave it at that. Look at it as your fresh start. Now, run this bitch and make a shit-ton of money.” She patted my hand. “Go and do great things.” Wanda threw down a few bills to cover her drink and slid off the barstool. “Well,” she said with a happy sigh as the door creaked open. “There’s my date now.”
Pops—the man who used to own the airfield and left it to Jase—stood at the door with a bouquet of wildflowers. He dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief and gave Wanda a nervous grin as she stomped over to him.
He offered his arm, and she looped hers through it. With a parting glance, Wanda said, “Don’t fuck it up.”
Chase slipped behind the bar and caged me in, bracing his hands on either side of my hips.
“What the hell just happened?” He seemed more flustered now than when the lawyer had started talking.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I think we own a bar.”