7. Lennon
Chapter 7
Lennon
I Need An Answer
“ H ave you forgotten how to pour a pint, Dean?”
The exceptionally attractive bartender gave me a rueful smile. “No.”
I lifted the foamy pint glass. “You know, this is pretty impressive to have this much foam on cider, right?”
He sighed. “Sorry, Len. I was distracted.”
I glanced over at the new girl, Ronnie, who had just started. She was stretched over the long table, scrubbing it down. There was no denying she had a great ass—even I could appreciate the level of workouts she had to do to produce that outcome—but she was driving me bananas. It was bad enough a new person threw off the rhythm of my people. Add in that everyone was rusty, and I was beyond annoyed.
She was a good waitress. And she’d probably make a decent bartender with some training, but she was distracting as fuck for my whole staff. Sure, she was a knockout, but most of the staff were attractive in one way or another.
The problem was, Ronnie knew it and enjoyed the attention.
Leaned into it.
I cuffed the back of Dean’s head, and he turned back to me with a flush to his cheeks.
“Sorry.”
“Ronnie? Can you go wrap silverware with Annette?”
She straightened and turned to me. Her jet-black hair was tied back with a red, paisley bandana and her cerulean blue eyes were made up with a black wing that leaned into the pinup style she favored. “Sure.” She glanced over at Dean and gave him a wink before she sauntered over to Annette in the corner of the dining room by the tree paintings.
Well out of sight, thank God.
“Roll back in the tongue, pal.”
Dean swallowed and picked up the tap to pull another half pint. “Okay, what’s next?”
This time, it looked as it should. I took him through the paces of the new drink I’d created for tonight’s soft launch. We’d invited our food truck people here to have a night of food and drinks on us.
I’d perfected a few drinks that used the Hot Honey cider base. One was a lemonade with a kick, and the other used bourbon-soaked cherries and a splash of the new vodka.
I took a taste. “Decent. Do it again.”
Dean sagged, but he started building the cherry version a second time.
“You like cherries?”
He nodded.
“Then cut off a tiny bit and taste it. Sometimes they’ll be sweeter, sometimes more sour—you need to know how to adjust.”
He sliced off a bit of the cherry and his green eyes warmed. “That has a kick, but it’s sweet.”
“Then level out the drink.”
He went back to work, this time, more focused.
My people obviously needed to shake off the cobwebs. Dean tended to work in a dive bar in Turnbull on the off season and Mick’s idea of a mixed drink was Jack and Coke.
“Hey, man. Now the whole team is back.” Dean’s warm voice had me glancing up to find Griffin.
First, he was not part of my team. Second, my stomach jittered—annoying me further. I hadn’t seen him for a few days. Not since that weird tension had rose up between us.
He had a stripe of black across the powder blue T-shirt that clung a bit too well to his chest. Gray dusted his dark hair, thanks to some sort of renovation. His beard was well past full and bordered on shaggy. The espresso curls of his overlong hair were just as wild, and I’d bet he had spent the day shoving his fingers through it.
I tried not to notice how his arms bulged from the box he was carrying. He already had a gold hue to his skin from all his outdoor work. I dragged my gaze away from the whorls of ink that snaked over his left arm.
Griffin grinned. “You guys look like you’re in full swing.” He glanced around. “I thought you weren’t opening until Saturday.”
“We’re doing a soft launch tonight.” Dean finished building the drink and pushed it forward. “Be our guinea pig.”
“Always eager to help.” His usual smile wasn’t quite back, but there was enough to produce crinkles at the corners of his eyes that made my own skin tingle.
What the hell was my problem?
He jostled the box more comfortably against his chest. “Let me put this in the back for Kain. He said he needed to fix something in the kitchen. Didn’t tell me you guys had a thing tonight.”
He disappeared around the corner toward the kitchen. I rolled my eyes when I heard Ronnie’s husky purr saying hello.
“Why don’t you go check on the kegs, get them lined up for opening?”
Dean nodded. “You got it, Boss.”
I wasn’t exactly the boss, but I had a feeling I’d be jumping in more than Kira wanted to admit. The twins were both down with ear infections, so we were flying solo tonight. Annette and I made a good team, though. I was pretty sure she was even more strict than Kira when it came to running the dining room.
Ronan would stop in to talk about the new ciders later on that night.
We’d done a special invite for our food truck people and their staff. Showing off the new spirits and ciders would help them with creating menus, as well.
With Kain’s tighter schedule, we’d upped the food truck agenda from twice a month to once a week. Helped to boost the local economy along with bringing new people into the taproom.
Add in the summer concerts and we would be seriously busy this season, which suited me just fine. There was nothing I hated more than downtime.
Griffin got waylaid by our new waitress again. His easy way with every-damn-one made me gnash my teeth as I scribbled in my recipe book.
Ronnie was a champion flirt, and Griffin was easy pickings.
“Place looks great.”
I glanced up from my notebook, surprised that he’d slipped away from her so quickly. “Yeah, we’ve been busting our butts.”
“It shows. Did you move stuff around?” He leaned his elbows on the bar, facing toward the dining room, which allowed me an unfettered look at his ink. It was a sleeve full of smaller tattoos that had been layered on one another.
“The second bar was extended.”
“Oh, that makes sense.” He straightened and the dip in his lower back made my mouth water. There was something about that part of a man’s anatomy that always fascinated me, and Griffin had an exceptional ass to boot. “How did I not notice that?”
I dragged my gaze back up and busied myself with the mess Dean had left behind. “Because it was covered when you were last in.”
He twisted back around, and I pushed the drink in front of him. “Compliments of Dean.”
He glanced at the cherries then he returned his attention to me. Dean had skewered a cherry on a black plastic sword with a curl of orange peel he’d used to flavor the rim. “Is this going to knock me on my ass?”
He shifted onto a stool and curled his fingers around the base of the glass, spinning it on the coaster. His attention was on the slight fizz at the top—or maybe he wasn’t seeing it at all.
I didn’t want it to be weird with us, and I instinctively reached over the bar to cover his wrist.
He looked up, locking his gaze on mine.
I pulled my hand back, but he reached out and grabbed it, covering it with his much larger one. The blunt fingers weren’t exactly elegant. He had worker’s hands with calluses from helping out on the orchard renovations, but the little ones on his fingertips made the little hairs on my arm stand up.
From the guitar.
He squeezed, then he let me go. “Sorry about the other day. The conversation with Kain dragged up old shit.”
“No big deal.” I nodded to the drink. “You’re killing me here.”
“Sorry.” He lifted the glass, grinned over the rim, and tipped it up, swallowing hard. His strong throat was covered with more dust, as well as stubble that swirled around his Adam’s apple that worked as he took a long drink.
Good grief, what was wrong with me?
I busied myself checking over the ingredients list that I’d put together. I wanted to make a few changes to the Moscow Mule-style drink with the ginger cider base. When I looked up, he was just slipping a cherry into his mouth, thanks to the little plastic sword Dean had garnished the glass with.
The way his teeth tore through the skin gave me a moment—big-time.
I was thankful for the three layers of tanks I was wearing under my vest. I definitely needed the barrier.
He grinned down at his drink. “As you can see, I enjoyed it.” He tipped it back again to get to the cherries at the bottom of the glass. “Dangerous.”
That was one word for it.
“I’ll put you in the yes column.”
“You can test out whatever you want on me.” He slid off the stool. “However, I’m not in any shape for people. I figured the taproom would be empty.”
“What were you doing?” I pointed at his shirt.
He looked down and winced. “That was from helping Kain with my AC unit.”
“Was it the size of a car?”
He laughed. “Felt like it when we muscled it in from his truck. Kain had to do some crazy retrofitted thing. I don’t know how he does what he does, but I’m grateful. The afternoons are already hot, so I’d be sunk in July.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “You haven’t seen the Starling.”
I shook my head. “Who came up with the bird names?”
“Guess.” He tucked the plastic sword in the side of his mouth in lieu of his usual toothpick.
“Kain.”
“Got it in one. The Starling was the old pressing room. The place was in rough shape, but now it’s mine. At least for as long as Laverne lets me stick around.”
“Laverne collects people. She’ll never kick you out.”
The sword twitched. “Good. I like it here. Especially the people.”
“Except when they are too much for you?”
“Some are.” He shrugged jerkily. “Some are not.”
My mouth dried up. I might fake being oblivious, but even I couldn’t ignore the signals. I just wasn’t sure I could afford to open the door to this man.
Not when I had so many decisions to make.
A former rockstar should have temporary hookups as part of his DNA, but could I trust that?
“I suppose we like you too,” I said finally. “Make yourself presentable, and I’ll even feed you.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “You inviting me to dinner, Lenny?”
“I’m inviting you back to eat. And quit with the Lenny stuff.”
“Never, darlin’.” He thumped his fingers on the bar. “I’ll be back.”
Dean glanced over his shoulder when Griffin left and set a case of Firefly Honey on the bar. “You guys finally gonna stop dancing around each other?”
“Shut up.”
Dean just whistled as he filled the cooler with the bottles. Annoyed, I stalked out from behind the bar.
Annette was setting the last of the wrapped silverware on one of the tables near the back door. The evenings were still too cool to open up the huge back doors, but that meant one less area to clean up tonight.
She caught up with me as I headed toward the kitchen. “Where’s the fire?”
“No fire. Just need to check on the kitchen.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I sighed. “Please tell me Kevon and Morgan stopped tripping over their tongues with the new girl.”
“Changing subject, got it. Must be Griffin.”
I pushed through the door to find Dawn, Kain’s second in command, at the stove. Jess and our new sous chef, Richie, were busy shredding chicken and pork in massive stainless-steel bowls.
“How’s it going, guys?”
Dawn turned from the stove. Her skull cap was a busy floral in hot pink and blue to go with her royal blue chef jacket. “Hey, Warrior Queen.”
I shook my head with a half laugh. “We’ll be opening the doors in less than two hours.”
“We’ll be ready.” Richie doused the pork with a cherry bourbon barbecue that would pair with my drink of the night.
“Kain said he’d be in if you need him.”
“We’re good, but if the big guy wants a turn at the stove, I won’t turn him away.” Dawn scraped across the grill, onions snapping as they were fried with mushrooms.
The scent made my stomach roar.
Dawn pulled down two bowls and filled them with the grains always in the rice maker. She dumped veggies from the other side of the grill on top, stole some chicken from Jess’s massive bowl, squirted the spicy sauce she knew I loved, and slid the bowl my way a second before she jammed chopsticks into it. She made another for Annette, lighter on the spice and swapped the chicken for pork. Annette took a fork for herself.
“Both of you eat.”
“Yes, Mom,” we chorused.
“Get out of my kitchen. You don’t need to check on me.”
“Fine.” Instead of returning to the dining room, we took our bowls out back to the picnic tables.
The days were getting longer, and the crisp air felt good after all the last-minute organizing I’d been doing all day. I didn’t need to be flair Lennon tonight, but I was prepared to show off a bit if the crowd was flat.
I climbed over the bench at the far picnic table and tucked into my bowl.
Annette did the same, and we ate in companionable silence for a few minutes.
I looked out on the side of the old barn. The porch had been built out to the parking lot for people to enjoy. Since we’d started using food trucks, the front of the old barn was getting just as much action as the back patio.
It was crazy to me just how much we’d grown in a few short years.
They.
Not we .
“So, you’re really gonna make me ask again?”
I stabbed at the broccoli and red peppers before trapping one with my chopstick. “I don’t do relationships, you know that.” I crunched through the perfectly cooked veggies.
“Who said anything about a relationship? Just bang that man like a drum. The way he looks at you, all he’d need is a high five, for God’s sake.” She chewed around her own rice, clearly consuming more protein than veg. We were very much the exact opposites when it came to food.
“Kain is his brother.”
“You’re not sleeping with Kain.”
“Bells would kill me, and my body never would be found.”
Annette snickered as she stabbed her fork into her bowl. “Accurate. But seriously, you should just have a fun fling. I’d do it.”
I arched a brow at her.
“Yeah, you’re not interested. Totally.” The sarcasm was as thick as the sauce in my bowl.
“No, more like since when would you have a fling?”
“Since I didn’t even get to the naked part with Matthew, and I’ve been off men ever since.” She tucked one of her dark curls around her ear. The rest were wrestled into a messy bun on top of her head.
“Gonna take Dawn for a spin?”
She almost spit out her mushrooms and rice with a laugh. “Maybe I should. Women can’t be as bad as men.” She sighed. “Too bad I enjoy dick so much.”
It was my turn to almost choke. “Annette!”
“What? I’m not as hot as all the women crawling around here?—”
“Stop right there.”
She pressed her lips together and color blazed under the freckles across her cheeks. “C’mon, I have mirrors.”
“You are gorgeous.”
“I’m on par with a puppy. Cute with a side of cuddly, but not the kind of woman a guy wants to get with. Best friends, though, right?” She framed her fingers under her chin and tipped her head, then rolled her eyes. “Hell, even Matt didn’t really want me. Just access to stuff he could steal.” She stared down at her bowl and stabbed at the contents without actually forking anything up.
“That’s not true.”
She peered up through her lashes. Long lashes, damn her. Mine weren’t like that at all. “You know it is. And I’m here all the time, so who am I going to meet?”
“There’s an app for that.”
“Hell, no.” This time, she did scoop up the barbecue pork and stuff it in her mouth. “I tried that too,” she said, around her bite. “Disaster.”
“Well, I can’t blame you on the dating apps. They are a true hellscape.”
“As if you need to use an app. Please.” She hunched over her bowl.
“You try being in a different place every other week. Not so easy to do anything other than a hookup.”
And I was fine with that.
More than fine with it, usually.
Usually .
I blamed this damn orchard for giving me ideas about anything. And it tangled me up because I loved it here, but it made me restless at the same time.
My phone buzzed in my jeans, and I pulled it out.
Richard:
I need an answer soon.
I shoved it back in my pocket without replying. Mostly because I didn’t have an answer.
Everything I’d scrimped and saved for was being offered to me.
In Miami.
My own place. A backer who believed in me but wasn’t going to hamper me and my vision for a nightclub. Richard Devon was an angel investor who would put up the other half of the cash I needed to open up Daphne’s.
Named after my mom.
The goal I’d had for myself since I turned eighteen.
I should have been busy making plans for the place right on the water in the heart of Miami.
It was absolutely perfect.
And I was here.
Not making plans.
Not answering him.
It didn’t make any sense.
“You good?” Annette asked.
“Yeah. You ready to go back in and get ready?”
She sighed. “I suppose. Hey, maybe one of the food truck guys would like a wild and willing head waitress who wants a spring fling?”
I grinned. “You never know.”
She perked up at the thought and raced to the kitchen door. “Well, c’mon.”
“Easy, tiger.” But I followed and put thoughts of Miami into the back of my mind where they belonged.
For now.