CHAPTER TEN
A giggle that’s ripe with sneaky undertones demands my attention. I glance over to where Harper is typing on her phone. The grunt I aim at her does little to pause whatever she’s writing.
“Could’ve sworn you were on the clock,” I gripe.
“Oh, hush,” she retorts without bothering to look up. “You’re the last person who can give me shit for texting on the job.”
Yet I haven’t since this shift started. The only person I’m interested in hearing from is busy. With what, I’m not sure. As if I’m not already suspicious, another giddy noise comes from the blonde who’s supposed to be bartending.
My gaze shifts from Harper to her husband. Jake is firmly planted on his usual seat, a beer clutched in one palm. The fingers of his other hand drum on the wood counter as he watches his wife slack off on the job. No phone in sight.
I pin a glare on the so-called exemplary employee. “Are you talking to Callie?”
“Maybe.” She averts her screen but not before I see the length of the blue bubble that’s a signature style for a certain text-chatty brunette.
I frown at my screen that remains blank. “What’s she saying?”
“None of your business, boss.” A distinct chime announces a new message. Harper’s grin spreads to concerning levels. “Right on time.”
I’m confused by her vague statement until another recognizable sound carries across the room. The front door opens with a whoosh that wafts a gust of sweetness directly to me. My undivided attention is immediately locked on the blue-eyed beauty who’s responsible for turning me into a lovesick sap. I’m hers—irrevocably—and she doesn’t even know it yet.
Callie commands me from where she hovers out of reach. As if to prove my devotion, the racket from rowdy patrons and slackened inhibitions ceases to exist. Vanilla and unbridled temptation perfume the air until I can taste the addictive flavor on my tongue. My muscles flex while preparing to launch at her, but my feet remain firmly planted behind the bar. There’s nothing I can do except wait for her to end this agonizing separation.
Her eyes dart from left to right as she surveys the thick crowd. She hasn’t moved from the doorway. The frozen state of her stance reveals that she’s seconds from fleeing the scene. l can’t have that.
“C’mere, sweetness. I saved you a spot.” My spread arms beckon her toward me. As she begins skirting forward, I glare at the random Joe hogging prime real estate at my section of the rail. “Move.”
The guy drops his jaw. “Excuse me?”
“You’re in my future wife’s seat.”
“Holy shit,” Harper sputters.
I’m barely listening as I motion to a preferred place for this dude to relocate his ass. “Go sit over there and I’ll buy you a drink.”
He ambles off, but mutters under his breath about me being whipped on pussy. I’d give him something to really complain about if the woman of my obsessions wasn’t approaching.
Harper is still choking on perfectly good oxygen. “What was that?”
“You heard me,” I growl without taking my focus off Callie.
“Talk about staking a claim. Damn,” she whistles.
I ignore her while Callie eliminates the remaining distance between us and slides onto the stool. “Hey, sweetness. This is a surprise.”
She glances at her friend beside me. The instigator looks far too pleased with herself. Callie doesn’t seem to notice before she returns her gaze to me.
“Hopefully a good one,” she murmurs.
“The best. Do I have this one to thank for it?” I blindly motion toward Harper.
She scoffs at me in return. “Nope, Callie gets all the credit.”
“Even better,” I rasp and lean forward on a bent elbow.
Callie’s cheeks blaze a bright red in the dim lighting. “I brought you something.” She whips out a covered dish of cookies from seemingly nowhere and sets them on the bar top between us. “Are you allergic to anything? I should’ve asked first. To be on the safe side, these are free of nuts and gluten.”
My tongue is tied tighter than a jockstrap. I manage a croaked, “Thank you.”
“Awww, that’s very thoughtful. Can I have one?” Harper pinches at the air as if she’s about to steal a cookie whether I grant permission or not.
“No.” I swipe the container out of her reach. “These are mine.”
“Jeez, boss. Thanks for sharing.” She rolls her eyes, but winks at her friend in the next second.
Callie giggles. “I hope you’ll like them.”
“Are you kidding me? These are about to be my new favorite dessert.” I crack open the lid to take one out, quickly shoving the entire thing in my mouth. Can never be too cautious with the company I keep back here.
Melted chocolate bursts across my taste buds. There’s a hint of vanilla, which is fucking perfect. It’s baked just right. Not too gooey, but soft enough to crumble. A rumble creeps past my sealed lips.
“You know what they say,” Harper croons. “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”
Callie’s wide eyes are fastened on me while I finish chewing. “What do you think?”
I swallow the last bit and rub my abdomen. “Might be the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”
Her blush makes a rosy reappearance. “You need to try my tater tot hot dish.”
“I’ll eat whatever you’re willing to feed me,” I freely admit.
“He’s gonna lose his mind once your cherry casserole is on the menu,” Harper intrudes.
Callie crinkles her forehead. “Cherry casserole?”
“Ridge will gobble that cobbler. Even better than casserole. Finger-licking good.” She does the motion for a chef’s kiss.
“I’ll need to find a recipe for that,” Callie mumbles absently.
While my innocent girl jots down a reminder for herself, I shoot a glare at Harper that promises retribution. It would have most grown men shit their pants.
“That sounds like my cue. What’s that, Jerky Jacob?” She cups her ear and begins trotting off in his direction. “I’ll be right there.”
With that nuisance occupied, I’m able to concentrate on the only one who matters. Callie is already looking at me when I catch her stare. She lowers her lashes, but peeks back at me a moment later. I like to think she can’t keep her eyes off me. The compulsion is very fucking mutual.
“Thanks again for the cookies. I’ll treasure these.” Which starts with tucking them under the counter in a secure location.
She peers over the edge. “I can make more.”
“That’s an offer I’ll never refuse. Just like having you in my bar. It means a lot that you stopped by.”
“Really?” Callie’s gaze sweeps over the others who chose Roosters to take a load off, but I don’t acknowledge their existence.
“Yes, really,” I confirm for her instead. “And now I finally get the pleasure of serving you.”
She gasps as if our roles in this scenario just occurred to her. “Oh, my.”
“What’s it gonna be, sweetness? Just name it and I’ll deliver. On the house.”
Callie surveys the variety of options on display. “Um, I’ve never had an alcoholic beverage before.”
Can’t say I’m all that shocked by her response. “Would you like one?”
“Only if you make it for me.” Her lips pinch into a firm line as if she can’t believe those words spilled out.
“Damn,” I grunt and clutch at the area above my heart. “You’re giving me the privilege of creating your first cocktail?”
“We have many firsts to share, right?” The blue in her eyes reflects a sacred vow.
I eagerly dive into those depths, allowing the calm waters to submerge me. “Absolutely. I’ll take as many as you’re willing to give me.”
Callie’s timid smile is a gesture of trust and I clutch those fragile strands close to my chest. “What do you recommend?”
My mind whirls with the base ingredients of a few staple combinations. “I’m gonna let my creativity take the lead, which is a first for me.”
Her expression brightens as I get to work.
I grab the coconut rum that has a reputation for its smooth flavor. Just a small amount gets added to the blend.
She studies my movements like the process is fascinating. That riveted focus doesn’t stray as I flip a shaker in my hand as if this is common practice. The rusty motions gain the attention of an actual flair expert.
“Those are some smooth moves, Crusher Carter.” Garrett saunters over and claps me on the back. “A real crowd pleaser tonight, huh?”
“For a solo audience,” I mutter while dumping a generous amount of pineapple juice in the container. A few other fruity components go in next.
“That’s cute. Not sure why I’m busting my ass running interference for you. What’s the deal with this disgruntled customer saying you booted—?” His question cuts off when he spots Callie sitting in her designated seat. “Oh, hey. Didn’t see you there.”
She dips her chin and offers him a quick wave.
“Always a mood booster when you’re at the cock den,” he squawks.
Callie nods in gratitude but doesn’t speak.
Meanwhile, I snort at his antics. “Is there a problem?”
“Nah, got it sorted.”
Just then, a pained yelp comes from his section of the rail. “Ow, ow. Shit. That stings.”
Garrett whips around to face his fiancée. “What’s wrong?”
“Got squirted in the eye,” Grace whimpers. There’s a freshly squeezed lime in her grip that appears to be the guilty offender.
He chuckles. “Aww, shucks. We’ve talked about you getting too close to the splash zone, soulmate. Didn’t you learn your lesson on my birthday?”
She tries to glare at him, but the watery side effect just looks pitiful. “Not funny.”
“Let me assess the damage.” Garrett wanders off to tend to her, which allows me to complete my task.
I turn my attention back to my concoction. Vanilla syrup is a must. Three mint leaves join the party, chased with two pumps of grenadine. An orange slice slides onto the sugared rim. The end result should taste like a trip to the Caribbean.
Callie’s giddy satisfaction bounces between me and the finished product. “That’s too pretty to drink.”
“I beg to differ.” Otherwise, I won’t be able to gobble her cobbler or whatever gibberish Harper spewed earlier. “Beauty like this shouldn’t be wasted on simple admiration. It’s meant to be consumed. Ravished. Devoured. Feasted on until the insatiable cravings are content.” I pause to cool the fire that’s incinerating my filter. “It’s all about moderation, of course.”
“Um… okay.” She tilts her head while pondering my ranted nonsense. “What do you call this masterful creation?”
I chuckle at her praise, but a suitable name fails me. Garrett’s romantic ass already claimed several titles for the signature cocktails he regularly whips up for Grace. Not only that, but the concoction I’d originally considered might be a bit too strong for her to swallow. For several reasons. I’ll play it safe for now.
“How does Neighbor Material sound?”
Callie’s gaze leaps to mine. “Rather familiar.”
“As it should.”
“Have you made this before?”
“Never. That label belongs to you. Exclusively,” I rasp. “Please try this liquid version and put me out of my misery.”
Our fingers brush as she reaches for the smooth stem. A zap travels through me from that brief touch. She gasps and her gaze leaps to mine. It seems I’m not alone in this madness.
After another stuttered exhale, she picks up the glass in her delicate grip. The smallest sip passes her lips. A delectable moan follows. Her eyelashes flutter shut as if she’s in ecstasy from suckling at this extension of me. My mouth waters as I imagine her tongue sliding along mine while she swallows.
Warmth pumps into me at a feverish rate and I grapple at the counter for support. “You like it?”
“Mhmm. It’s fresh and fruity and different from anything I’ve ever had before.” Callie takes a generous pull, her throat bobbing with the effort. “Delicious.”
“Does this mean I’m corrupting you?” My question gets the desired reaction.
Her cheeks turn redder than the rarest ruby. “If you are, then I approve.”
Before my thoughts lead us to the gutter, a suggestion that’s appropriate for public strikes me. “Did you bring your camera?”
“I never leave home without it.”
“Should we capture this special occasion? Maybe it’ll be memorable enough for your scrapbook.”
Callie is already swiveling on her stool with the Polaroid poised in midair. I position myself over her left shoulder. My eyes automatically shift to where she’s smiling at the lens. A flash signals the moment caught on film.
“That’s going to be a keeper,” she croons while turning back to face me.
“Of course,” I rasp. “You’re in it.”
A flush burns a splotchy path along her slender throat. “I think most would say that you’re the one they want to see.”
“Good thing nobody else matters.”
The grin she gave for the photo doesn’t compare to the one aimed at me. “Did you look at the camera this time?”
“Absolutely not.”
Her lips twist. “You’re a stinker.”
This woman can call me whatever she wants so long as her attention remains on me. I’m hanging on her every word. A puddle of drool is probably collecting on the bar top, but that’s the furthest thing from my mind as she sips at her drink again. The glass will be drained very soon at this rate.
“More?”
She giggles. “Are you trying to keep me here all night?”
My gaze burns into hers. “Only if I’m lucky, sweetness.”
Callie returns my stare with unwavering intensity. “I think luck is heavily in our favor, Ridge.”
A cheesy imitation of cracking a whip bursts our bubble. The mocking sound deserves immediate action for breaking my concentration. I’m forced to rip my gaze off Callie and losing that connection to her is critical. For the offense, I stab the guilty party with a glare.
This asshole’s interruption is a spear of ice that attempts to freeze my bloodstream. It’s as if I just got dunked into a frigid lake. Based on how the douche canoe is cowering, my expression must reflect the intention to kick his ass. But just in case, I decide to spell it out.
“Fuck off.” My voice vibrates with the need for retribution.
“Shit,” he mutters. “Didn’t mean to make you mad, Crusher. I was just screwing around.”
“Do you think I’m the type of person who appreciates such juvenile fuckery?”
His scrawny frame trembles on the stool he’s fortunate enough to still occupy. He’s probably seconds away from pissing himself. “Nope. That’s my mistake. Sorry, man.”
“Don’t apologize to me.” My head tips in Callie’s direction.
His wide stare shifts over to her. “I’m sorry.”
She scrunches her forehead, but doesn’t respond to his bullshit apology. Instead, her baby blues search my gaze that’s faithfully returned to hers. “I think he’s scared of you.”
“As he should be.” But then an ugly thought occurs to me. “Are you afraid of me?”
She shakes her head, sending brown hair tumbling around her shoulders. “I don’t think that’s possible. You’re not scary to me.”
“Thank fuck for that, sweetness. Now,” I drawl and lower myself to her level. “Where were we?”