Chapter 6
Val
I’m still shaking my head over the fact he actually showed up. My smart ass quip to Sophia was a joke.
Yet here he is.
And he really has been practicing. He had that dough rolled out like a pro in seconds.
Geez, life on the ranch must really be rough if he’s wanting to take on a gig like making pizzas.
For a weeknight, it isn’t super busy.
I’d almost be relieved if this last group would just leave. Two of the guys are really ramping up their asshole aura now that they’ve had a few rounds.
My hours are only crazy on Friday and Saturday night where I stay open until two in the morning.
Only twenty minutes until closing. It can’t come soon enough.
“Last call, guys,” I yell out to the rowdy table.
“Nah, we’re just getting started!” the original mouth of the bunch pipes off and laughs while elbowing his buddy.
Fine. I give them a few more minutes, then yell again. “Look y’all. I don’t care if you keep drinking, but you can’t do it here. Time’s up.” It isn’t my first time with a group like this.
Yet I dread every single one. I never know which ones will go willingly, or which ones will decide they’d rather fight than go home.
When he stands up, I get the impression he’s falling in the latter category.
Great.
“Look, pretty lady. Me and my friends are just out having a little fun tonight. So I need another bottle of tequila.” He points at the wall behind me where the expensive stuff sits.
“I don’t give travel cups.” My chin lifts. “You’re welcome to come back tomorrow and buy it.”
He’s a big guy. I’d have at least fifteen minutes after calling the cops before they’d get here.
On a good night.
When he saunters around the end of the bar, I inch towards my pistol that’s hidden under the register.
“I don’t want to wait until tomorrow.” His voice drops.
“Corey, leave it alone. We can go.” The blonde girl that has been hanging on his arm pulls her purse from the back of her chair and stands.
“Listen to your girl.” Sawyer appears behind the hulking man. “Call it a night.”
Well that’s a surprise. Scotty’s little bestie has a back bone.
“Maybe I don’t want to.” Corey’s dark eyes rake over me, focusing on the tattoo sticking above the hem of my tank top. “I want to see this cute barmaid’s ink first.”
I drop one fist against my hip, the other on the counter just inches away from the grip of my gun.
“I think we’ll save show and tell for another night.
” I purse my lips and give him an exaggerated wink.
“So go on, get out of here, and come again another day.” My fingers flip to shoo him towards the door.
His shoulders hulk up and his brows drop.
Oops, that might have been the wrong thing to do.
“Listen here—”
He’s twirled in place by Sawyer’s hand on his elbow.
“Nope. Talk to me if you want to be rude.” Sawyer’s ballcap sits at a slight jaunt to the side, but he nearly pokes the asshole’s nose with the brim.
“Corey!” The remaining guys call out to him in unison. “Let’s fucking go! We don’t need the cops on us, man.”
Corey’s nostrils flare as he stares at Sawyer.
I gotta admit, the kid is holding his own.
Hell, I didn’t realize that he’s nearly just as big as the brute.
When did that happen? For some reason I’ve always seen him as the same scrawny teen I first met…how long ago? Ten years?
Now he’s all grown up and looking like he’d put up a heck of a scrap against the drunk asshole.
“Fine. This place sucks anyway.” Corey feigns his arms out to Sawyer.
But Sawyer doesn’t flinch.
Huh.
The girls are huddled in a ring, their eyes wide as Corey stalks towards them.
I’m relieved to see the other guys herd them out, putting themselves between the drunk and the women.
Sawyer follows a short distance behind them, then locks the door and turns off the “Open” sign.
“Thanks,” I exhale, slumping my elbows onto the bar.
His shoulders rise and fall under his worn t-shirt. “Is it always like that?”
Without asking, he starts gathering the dishes from the table.
“Not all the time. Often enough I have the sheriff on speed dial.” Fuck, I could use a shot myself. “Hey, you want a drink?”
He pauses halfway to the kitchen with an armful of plates and glasses, his bottom lip sticks out as he thinks. “Nah, thanks though. It’s like twenty minutes back to my house. Dad would kill me.”
My goodness, he’s adorable. “You’re such a good boy. You definitely don’t want to hang out here.” I grab a glass and pour myself a double shot of whiskey, then hold it up in his direction. “I might corrupt you,” I say with a wink, then swallow the whole thing.
His mouth slips into a crooked grin before he disappears into the back.
Except he was actually helpful, not just with the creep.
He made every meal with only minor directions and has already restocked most of the cases under the bar.
It takes me a second to rinse out my glass, then I follow him into the kitchen.
“When can you work?” I ask point blank.
Those big blue eyes focus on me from the sink and turn away. “I guess most evenings. All my chores are during the day for the most part.”
His non-chalance is almost irritating.
The liquor burning in my belly has me moving closer and leaning against the prep counter next to him. “Numbers, Sawyer. What times? Days of the week?”
His nose wrinkles and he fucking shrugs. “I don’t know when you’d need me.”
“I swear I’m going to shake you like a glowstick. Okay. Be here Friday and Saturday. Next week is Labor Day, so I’ll need you all weekend. That includes Sunday and Monday.” My fingers raise with every one I mention. “Be here at three until two am.”
He nods while scrubbing one of the plates.
That’s when I see all the pots and pans on the drying rack past him.
Damn, he’s bucking for a raise and we haven’t even discussed money.
“How much do you want?” I can already tell he’s worth it.
He doesn’t bitch, sees what needs to be done, even jumps in as a bouncer.
“I dunno. Maybe a pizza? It’s just kinda nice to be off the ranch. Sometimes it’s kinda claustrophobic now that my grandparents are here.” The corner of his mouth drops. “I shouldn’t say that.” Shaking his head, he focuses on the sudsy water.
“Sawyer.” My palm covers my eyes as I rub my temples. “I’ll give you any food you want, but you actually get paid, too. How does twice minimum plus tips sound?” It’s higher than I’ve offered anyone else.
Maybe it’s just because I know him? He’s buddies with my brother after all.
But he grimaces. “This ain’t hard work. I got money in herd shares.”
I throw up my hands. “Free it is!”
Like hell. He’ll get it, even if I have to just stash it in an envelope for him.
I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like him before.
How can he be so…genuine?