Chapter 9
NINE
KIRA
WOULD YOU QUIT CARRYING ME?
“Back off.”
“C’mon. I saw how you were showing off for me. I just want a better perspective.” He leaned into the bar. Obviously he was standing on the footrest in front of the bar stools. One of the shot glasses tipped as lemon tinged water pooled on the gleaming teak.
I’d switched him to water two drinks ago and the moron couldn’t even tell.
The tequila-laced slur of his voice pissed me off. I’d come in for Mason to make a few extra bucks because I couldn’t settle after…well, just after whatever today was. There was only one man I was interested in checking out my tits, and it wasn’t this asshat.
His buddies were laughing uproariously, egging the taller bald guy on. I could feel all eyes on me and the scramble of stools and glasses scattering as the guy tried to hop onto the bar.
My shoulders wanted to hunch up at the spectacle we were obviously making. Distantly I heard the other bartenders trying to get to me, but the U-shaped bar was crowded and now glass shards and tequila were splattered all over the rubberized mats that usually kept us from slipping.
Kelly slipped and crashed her hip against the metal shelf behind the bar as she tried to push back one of the other guys who tried to come around the side. Which in turn caused a chain reaction behind the bar. My other bartender, Lisa, tried to save the bottles of liquor from hitting the floor.
I heard Mason’s roar from the back of the patio to try and break it up, but it seemed like everything was happening in slow motion. The drunk guy trying to cop a feel had no coordination—full-blown inebriation made him a wild card.
He crashed over the bar toward me and I had seconds to decide if I was going to rescue the idiot from breaking his neck or let him hit the floor.
“Fucking idiot,” I growled and grabbed his arm which took us both to the floor, with me under him.
His laugh was chaotic and brash as his long, ape-like arms came around me.
“Kira!”
Distantly, I recognized the voice, though it didn’t make sense to be here at the bar. But I was too busy flipping the drunk guy over and pinning his arms behind him as I landed a knee square into the middle of his back to keep him immobile.
My hair had fallen out of the messy bun I’d clipped it up into and curtained around my shoulders. All I could hear was yelling and the crash of the aftermath of the idiot knocking over the garnish station.
Cherries, lemons, and limes rained down on us as the drunk guy laughed hysterically.
“Holy shit, are you okay?” Kelly yelled from behind me.
I flipped back my hair to see Ronan standing at the other end of the bar.
I frowned. What the hell was he doing here?
He hustled forward, his eyes burning with malice.
“I’m fine—” I broke off as Mason came from the other side of the bar and an angry Viking came from the front. I glanced around to see where I could put my foot and not end up falling on my face.
All eyes were on me and my chest tightened at the onlookers crowding around to gawk. Before I had a second to call off all the attention, Ronan plucked me up off the guy and hooked me around his hip. His huge booted foot landed about a millimeter away from the drunk guy’s nose.
“You know this guy?” Mason yelled over the cheers, gesturing to Ronan.
It was either hook my arm around Ronan or land on the drunk guy again. “Yes. From the orchard.”
“From the orchard? Is that all I am to you?” Ronan asked in so not his indoor voice.
“Not helping,” I whispered furiously.
My boss grunted. “Get her clear then.”
“I’m fine. Stop manhandling me, dammit.” I pushed at Ronan.
He only held me tighter. “Shut up, Kira.”
My molars snapped shut in shock.
“Relax, Ronda,” he said when I would’ve spoken.
I frowned. Who the hell was that? “Put me down. I have to help clean up.”
“It’s all glass back here and you’re dripping—again.”
My cheeks heated.
He buried his face in my hair. “I prefer you smelling like sex and apples than tequila, Sunshine.”
I had a feeling I smelled worse than tequila. I’d been sweating my ass off working for the last four hours and I still had two to go.
“We’re going to close off the patio,” my boss called. “Why don’t you head home?”
“It’s okay, I can help.” I pounded on Ronan’s shoulder. “Would you put me down?”
“Nope.”
“Can I at least talk to my boss?”
He turned us around so I could see Mason. The drunk guy grunted as Ronan kicked him in the ribs, almost as an afterthought.
“Was that necessary?”
He shrugged. “Yes.”
Everyone was staring at us. My heart seemed to be pounding in my ears and everything sounded overly loud.
Mason glanced from me to Ronan. There seemed to be some sort of unspoken thing between the men which only pissed me off more. “Yeah, you guys should just go.”
“I still have two hours left on my shift. And I need to help you guys clean up.” I tried to wiggle my way down, but the damn Viking’s arms were like iron.
“It’s chaos back here, but we can handle it. I’ll have Jared come out for the handsy jackass.”
I glanced around. Great, Mason was calling in his brother, the Chief of Police in Crescent Cove. “Where are his friends?”
“Not such great friends. I think they escaped while you were pinning their buddy to the floor.” Mason crouched down to check the guy who had passed out.
“Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. Nothing a few hours in the drunk tank won’t fix. Impressive skills though. I wouldn’t want to get into the octagon with you, K.” Mason grinned up at me.
Finally the Ronda name clicked. I’d worked in enough sports bars to know who Ronda Rousey was, even if she hadn’t fought much in a while.
“At least take my tips to cover some of the mess I made.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Ronan’s voice went from cheerfully annoying to dark.
My eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“I was going to have a steak and a brew.”
Mason tossed a bunch of bar towels on the rubber mat to cover glass. “We’ll bag it up, and you can take it with you.”
“That’s okay. I just want to get her out of here.”
I couldn’t argue with him. Mostly because my skin was going to crawl off my bones with everyone staring at me.
If Ronan would’ve just put me down, people would have gotten bored and returned their attention to the game or something. Not that there was much to watch in the summer, but something—anything—had to be better than having all eyes on me.
Stef cleared his throat from the end of the bar. “I didn’t get to put his ticket in…”
Mason sighed. “All right then. Thanks for coming in to cover tonight, Kira.”
My cheeks burned.
“Hey,” Mason pointed a finger at me, “don’t go there. With your quick thinking, it wasn’t worse. Instead of the drunk tank, this idiot could be in an ambulance right now and suing me.”
I nodded mutely. The guilt still tried to fillet me from the inside out. I worked at The Mason Jar a few times a month for the impressive tips I couldn’t say no to. And the best part was most people didn’t know who I was.
I was just the chick who could twirl bottles for a little entertainment. Just Kira. Not one of the Webb sisters of Turnbull.
Ronan juggled me higher on his hip.
“Would you put me down? I’m too heavy.”
“You’re stiffening up. Relax.” His voice lowered as he brushed his nose along my ear. “Until I want you wound up again.”
I looped my other arm around his shoulder to secure myself against his chest, then I tugged his hair none too gently. I gave him an admonishing look to shut his damn mouth, but he grinned wider.
“I like when you pull my hair, but save it for later.” He clamped one large palm on my ass and stepped over a large puddle of glass sprinkled tequila.
I snuck a glance at Mason who was mopping up the worst of the spill with a bar towel. His lips were twitching, but he didn’t look at me again.
I’d take that small concession. The faster Ronan got me away from the bar, the faster I could get my feet back on the floor. It was easier than making any more of a spectacle.
The murmurs and giggles that followed in our wake made my nerves jangle.
“Relax, Sunshine. I’ll have you out of here in a sec.
” But instead of putting me down when we got to the edge of the tables, he kept walking.
His stride was impressively wide—just like his shoulders, which I should not be noticing, dammit—and we were in the dining room before I could open my mouth again.
More eyes.
Crap.
“Put. Me. Down.”
“So you can drip and squeak all over the dining room? I don’t think you realize just how decorated you are in garnishes.”
“Freaking great.”
His dark gaze raked over my face and I could only imagine the state of my hair and makeup. The humidity of the day and the cherry juice alone made me want to cry.
He brushed his nose along my jaw and gave me a light lick. “Mmm, cherries.”
“Ugh.”
He tipped his head back with a booming laugh. Nothing about him was quiet or unassuming. Another three dozen glances and heads on swiveling necks were indeed my worst nightmare come true.
When Gillian flew out from behind the hostess station, her jaw slack with shock, I wanted the world to just swallow me whole. I knew I’d never hear the end of this for the rest of my life.
Maybe I would quit.
Gillian loved to make my life hell at work. She was the queen bee with her stunning face, sharp blue eyes, and acid tongue.
Unless Mason was around anyway. Then she was nothing but warm honey.
I should probably quit. Not that I had much time for nights here with my work at the Taproom. Even if the tips paid my rent for two months in one night.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Gillian called out as Ronan headed straight for the front door. Her gaze tracked down to where Ronan’s hand was on my ass and she sneered. “It’s not time for your break. And you’re making a spectacle of yourself—again.”
Ronan didn’t break his stride, just kept on going.