Chapter 9
BECK
My life was a living hell.
Nearly two weeks of working side by side with Mae, and nothing was right anymore.
I watched her weave effortlessly through tables, wing night notoriously busy, as if she’d been waitressing her whole life.
When Jenn called off, Mae stepped right in.
No job was below her, despite her crack about chicken fingers.
In fact, she was one of the least pretentious people I knew, and I knew a lot of them courtesy of my parents.
“He’s not even looking at them,” Parker cracked, referencing the fact that there was a pair of good-looking women sitting across from him that I had barely talked to.
He and Delaney were sitting at the bar with their usual—one order of hot wings and one of boneless honey mustard.
That comment was one of the many reasons everything felt topsy turvy.
“Zip it,” I said with half a mind not to refill Parker’s beer.
“I noticed.” Delaney offered me her most innocent smile.
“He’s a bad influence on you,” I said, grabbing Parker’s empty glass. “You used to be nice.”
“I’m still nice,” she said as a familiar face came up to the bar.
“Hey, Jules.”
“Sup, Beck? Anyone sitting here?” she asked Delaney.
“All yours. Mae said you might be stopping by so I saved it for you.”
I pulled the tap, only glancing over at the two tourist women, one who hadn’t stopped staring at me since she sat down.
Unfortunately, that brief glance was enough to have her raising a hand at me.
Two weeks ago, I’d have sauntered over there gladly.
Now, handing Parker his beer, I made my way over but watched Mae instead.
She already thought I was an incurable flirt—which was mostly true.
The last thing I needed was to cement Mae’s bad opinion of me.
“Need a refill?” I asked blandly.
“Yes, please.” Her full-tooth grin revealed pearly whites as perfect as the rest of her. Too perfect, in fact, as if she put in way too much effort. Unlike Mae, who woke up looking like a ray of sunshine.
Ray of sunshine. I did smile, then, thinking of what the guys would do if I’d said such a thing out loud. They’d fall off their barstools laughing.
Giving the ladies their drinks, I wasn’t surprised when one of them made her move.
“Don’t see a ring on your finger,” she said.
“I’m in witness protection,” I dodged. “’Scuse me.”
It was only as the dinner crowd died down and the bar crowd thinned that I got to catch my breath. Mae joined me behind the bar, doing the same.
“Busy night,” Jules said.
“Did you know wings weren’t actually invented in Buffalo?” Parker took a swig of beer.
“Yes, they were,” Delaney countered.
“Anchor Bar, 1964,” Mae agreed with Delaney.
“Mason told me they came from a southern barbeque restaurant in Memphis.”
“Mace was yanking your chain.” I started cleaning glasses now that the bar was so thin. Mae picked up a rag and began wiping it down. “The girls are right on this one.”
The last word caught in my throat as Mae slid behind me, our bodies touching ever so briefly. She was killing me. Absolute and complete torture.
“So what’s the word?” Parker asked. “Any more thoughts on the bar?”
They all knew the state of affairs. After talking it through with Mae, though, I still wasn’t sure what to do.
Her parents were in Florida, and we hadn’t had any problems, payroll or otherwise.
Working alongside Mae felt natural, as if it were meant to be.
But this was only temporary for her. And as for me?
I rubbed the back of my neck, trying not to look as tangled up as I felt.
“I don’t know. O’Malley’s is good. Things are good. But is that only because it’s temporary? Or am I just afraid of what it means otherwise?”
Parker raised a brow. “What would it mean?”
That maybe I finally found something I actually want. And I’m not sure I knew how to want something without screwing it up.
No way in hell I was going to say that out loud, though.
“Maybe it’s easier to be restless than responsible,” I said instead. “Don’t quote me on that.”
“What about you, Mae?” Jules asked. “You look pretty comfortable behind that bar.”
“I’ll admit, I don’t hate it. But I’m starting to miss the kitchen. I’m looking around for pastry chef positions, but they’re few and far between. At least locally.”
Mae had said as much yesterday. The thought of losing her from Cedar Falls just after I got her back didn’t sit well. But at least she’d shown some interest in staying, which was surprising.
“I hate how sad you sound. It’s not you,” Jules said to Mae.
“You know what we need?” Delaney asked. “A proper girls’ night.”
“Totally,” Jules agreed. “As the saying goes, the only way to get over a guy is to get under another one.”
Everyone laughed, including me, even though it was almost physically painful. Having a front-row seat to Mae getting back in the saddle told me all I needed to know about my feelings for her, as if they were ambiguous.
“You have the bar?” I asked, anxious to move away from their discussion.
“Yep,” she responded, oblivious to my discomfort.
Thankfully.
I closed down the tables, sent the kitchen home, waved goodbye to Parker and Delaney and only headed back behind the bar as Jules was leaving.
“Maybe you should ask the boss first, for the night off?” she said in parting to Mae, waving goodbye.
And then we were down to two.
“Nightcap?” Mae asked, not waiting for my response to make herself a drink. Cosmo. Classic Mae.
“Sure,” I said, pulling out Cole’s secret stash.
“Where did that come from?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” I teased.
Heading around the bar, Mae sank onto a stool, sighed and lifted her glass. “Sláinte.”
“Or as they say in America, cheers.”
We clinked glasses.
“So, boss. Can I have Friday night off?”
I rolled my eyes. “Depends. What’s it for?”
I knew exactly what it was for. Wished I could say “no” but since I wasn’t really her boss—it was the other way around, actually—that wasn’t an option.
“Girls’ night with Jules and Delaney and maybe Pia.”
“What’s on the docket?”
“As luck would have it, Jules found the perfect spot. Boots and Brews in Kitchi Falls has line dancing lessons once a month on Friday. We’re thinking of an overnighter there.”
I lost whatever else she might have said with a sudden vision of Mae in a pair of daisy dukes and cowboy boots. I took a sip of whiskey, attempting to concentrate. Somebody knew the owner of the country bar, Mazzie.
I hated everything about this plan.
“Sounds great. Just what you need.” I plastered a smile on my face.
“Speaking of needs, I saw you working the bar earlier.”
“The redhead? Nah. Not my type.”
Mae chuckled, taking a sip of her drink. I tried, and failed, not to notice as her lips delicately touched the chilled martini glass.
“That’s a blatant lie. She’s exactly your type.”
Belatedly, it occurred to me that… Mae had noticed me talking to the redhead.
“Oh, yeah?” I pushed. “Then why did I give her the witness protection line?”
“Not that one. It’s so lame. What does it even mean?”
“That—”
“Never mind, pretend I didn’t ask.”
She was so effortlessly pretty. And kind. Mathieu was the stupidest motherfucker in the world.
“Except, you did.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Smiling to deflect the actual meaning of my words, I took a sip of my drink.
Too late.
Mae’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing at all.”
She might be nice, but that didn’t mean Mae was a pushover. She could be a pitbull when she wanted.
“Interesting.”
“What’s interesting?” I asked.
She continued to watch me. “Nothing.”
“I must be exhausted. I’ve totally lost track of the conversation.”
“Classic dodge.”
Like I said, a pitbull.
“So… back to the redhead.”
“Do we have to?”
“Why brush her off? And don’t say she’s not your type. The second I saw her I figured you’d be all over her. Pretty. Nice legs. And of course—”
“Big tits.”
“Exactly.”
I shrugged. “Not in the mood.”
“Hmm.” Her eyes widened. “Is there… do you have someone in your life you’re not telling me about?”
I made a sound in my throat, tossing out, “Like a girlfriend?” before I thought better of it. If I was trying to clean up my image for Mae, that wouldn’t help.
“Never mind. Stupid question.”
“Not necessarily. I’m not opposed to having a girlfriend.”
Mae laughed so hard, I thought for a second she’d fallen off the stool. In reality, she’d hopped off, apparently headed to the ladies’ room.
Stupid question.
Was it? Playing fast and loose with tourists wasn’t as fun as usual, even more so now that Mae was back to compare them to. But that was a far cry from her taking me seriously. A few minutes later, she slid back onto the stool, Cosmo in hand. “Still here?”
“Didn’t want you to drink alone.”
“How noble of you.”
“So… Boots and Brews Friday?”
She grinned. “Yep. And I hear there’s a mechanical bull.”
Great. I took a long sip of whiskey.
“You okay?” she asked, quieter now.
“Fine.” I looked at her. “Why?”
“No reason. You just… looked like you remembered something.”
I did.
And if she asked the next question, I wasn’t sure I could lie.