Chapter 19
Gage
It’s been a week since the influencer came to the bar, and everything changed for the better.
After another breakfast of deliciously greasy sandwiches and coffee, which I think is going to become a weekly tradition if I have anything to say about it, Celeste and I are getting ready for the day.
She has to get to the animal shelter soon, while I go into work a little later to open up.
I’m in my office going over some invoices, and the contract for the upcoming farmer’s market pop up before I head into the bar.
I look up when Celeste knocks on the doorframe and comes in with a flourish.
Tink is chirping on her shoulder, Daisy nests in her hair, and Hermes is on her forearm asking for pistachios.
“Look how cute they…,” she says, trailing off when she sees me. Her lips part as her tongue darts out to lick her lower lip. I try to tamp down my smug smile and hardening dick at the undisguised want in her face.
“What?” I ask innocently.
“Those fucking reading glasses,” she mutters, her gorgeous grey eyes a little glazed over with pure lust as they stare at me.
Oh, this is too good. I love that my glasses do it for her.
“Does my wife have some sort of Clark Kent fantasy?” I can’t help but tease.
“Never been a comic book gal, Milo Thatch was the start of my glasses kink,” she says sweetly.
I snort, absolutely living for her sass.
“Noted. I’ll start looking for Atlantis immediately.”
“Please do. Anyway, just wanted to show you how cute the birds are being, I’ll let you get back to it.”
With that, she walks out with a flirty wink over her shoulder. I might have to start wearing the glasses all of the time if it makes her look at me like that. The birds stick with her, chattering away and playing on her like I don’t exist.
Things between me and Celeste have felt like I’m living in a dream.
She’s been snuggled in my bed every night, that amazing red hair splashed across my black pillows, our legs tangled together.
I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to sleep well again unless she’s next to me, in my arms. We make out, explore every inch of each other’s bodies, and keep learning what we both like to get each other off.
I think neither of us want to screw up what is going perfectly by taking the next step, though.
After a little while, she comes back in to say goodbye.
“They’re all settled in the aviaries and had breakfast,” she chirps.
I push up from my chair and go to give her a kiss.
“How about you come by the bar after and hang out? You can see how much of a difference Hannah’s posts have made in just a few days. It’s become almost more than we can keep up with, we’ll probably be hiring more servers and bartenders soon.”
“Sure! After the shelter I need to run a few errands for the non-profit, and then I’ll come hang out,” she agrees.
“See you then,” I say with a grin, giving her another kiss before she heads out.
When I get to El Abrevadero, my dad is puttering around and checking inventory. We’ve been going through bottles so quickly lately that we almost need to order double what we normally have been.
“We’re getting really low on the orange vodka until the next order comes in,” he says after we greet each other.
“Want me to run out and get another bottle or two, even though it won’t be the usual wholesale price?”
“Send Iggy out with the business credit card when he gets here. Two bottles should hold us over for now,” he replies. Then he shakes his head in amazement.
“Who knew one influencer would make such a huge difference so quickly,” he goes on ruefully, his face broadcasting how innovative he thinks the next generation is.
“I did, that’s why I reached out to her,” I retort, giving him a smug thump to his shoulder. “Don’t act like you didn’t cry when she talked so lovingly about the history of this place.”
“There were tears shed, she did a great job at capturing what El Abrevadero is all about. The way she raved about the food and her margarita was really heartwarming,” he admits.
“It’s going to make this place an even bigger name in the area, somewhere people have to try if they come to New Jersey,” I say, my excitement barely contained.
“That it will, mijo. It was a fantastic idea to reach out to her.”
Pride is absolutely bursting out of him, and his eyes take on a suspicious shine.
“It wasn’t easy, raising you boys and keeping this bar afloat,” he rasps. His arm sweeps in an all encompassing motion around him.
“This makes it all worth it, though. My boys are healthy and happy, and the bar is going to be better than ever. Every agonizing second was worth it, son.”
My eyes get shiny too, and he grasps me in a tight hug.
“You were and are amazing, pops. Wayne and I would be nothing without you,” I croak.
He almost violently clears his throat, and gives me one last pat on the back before we break apart.
“Alright, let’s get to work,” he mutters, obviously ready to be done with all of this emotional talk.
I check all of the registers, clean, and make sure the kitchen is all set with everything they need while my dad continues to take inventory.
With all of the new interest, he wants to take a fresh look at what is selling the most, what isn’t selling well, and how much we now need to order so that we don’t end up low on something we need again.
Once we open, it’s non-stop wonderful chaos.
I’m loving every minute of it. The customers are laughing, dancing their asses off to the live band, drinking, eating, and seeming to have a great time.
My dad is floating around and happily socializing in between his inventory checks.
Iggy is slinging drinks like a master, Chloe is handling so many tables without missing a beat, and they still manage to make eyes at each other.
After a few hours, my eyes snap like magnets to the door when I catch sight of shiny red hair.
My mouth goes dry as I drink in my wife.
She’s clearly gone home to shower and change after the shelter and her errands, because she’s in that green sundress that makes me weak.
It’s the one she wore the first time she came to my house. Our house.
Her hair is in loose waves, her lips are crimson, and her skin is glowing. I have never seen a more stunning sight in my life. It makes me think about how my dad just said that every agonizing second was worth it for our family to get to this place.
I’ve been afraid of that agony. Terrified of putting myself through that much pain without knowing whether I’d ever recover from it. It becomes clear though, when this amazing woman sees me, smiles, and starts walking toward me.
Celeste is worth all of the agony in the world.
I’m sure we’ll have some serious bumps in the road, and there’s no telling whether that road will lead to us staying married, staying together, or what. What I do know is that I want to find out, agony be damned.
I reach over the bar to cup her face and bring her in for a quick kiss, which she returns enthusiastically.
“I’ve never seen it this crowded!” she exclaims when we break apart, trying to be heard over the music.
“The magic of social media,” I say with a self-satisfied shrug.
The band starts playing a song that I freaking adore. It’s a super upbeat song called Las Tapas that’s so much fun. The bar is crowded, but Iggy and the other bartenders have it under control. I suddenly need to dance with my wife.
“This is one of my favorite songs. Want to dance, mi vida?”
Her smile is lit from within when she nods.
“Iggy, I’ll be back in five, ok?” I say, jerking my head toward the dance floor so he’ll know where I am.
“You got it!” he replies with a nod.
I lead Celeste through the throng of people to the dance floor and pull her in close, before starting to lead her through the steps. My head bends down toward her neck, breathing in her floral shampoo, before stopping at her ear.
“Have I told you how stunning you look?”
“You have now,” she says back in my ear, and I can feel her smile. “Thank you,” she adds.
“Always so polite,” I murmur.
“You know I am far from always polite,” she says with a hilariously impolite snort.
Heat courses through me thinking about how not polite she was asking me to get on my knees.
“I love it when you’re not polite,” I whisper before pressing a kiss to her hair.
Our feet move in tandem, our hips swaying together as the music takes over our bodies. She feels so perfect in my arms. When the song is over, I give her a little dip and kiss her, and she outright giggles. Her face is so relaxed and happy that my heart is testing the limits of my ribcage.
“I better get back behind the bar,” I say ruefully. “You want some food and a drink? My stupid ass had you out on the dance floor before you even had a chance to order anything.”
“I’m fine, I wouldn’t have wanted to dance on a full stomach anyway. I’ll have a margarita and some arepas now. Let’s go before poor Iggy is overwhelmed.”
We walk back toward the bar hand in hand when I notice an older guy eyeing Celeste with a glare. I can feel her clock him, too, because she freezes and lets out a heavy sigh.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” she groans.
I don’t even get a chance to ask who he is when he comes charging over looking pissed.
“Hi, Harry. Pants are staying dry nowadays, I hope,” she says sweetly.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he sneers. He’s clearly a nasty fucker, and I am on high alert. Who the hell is this guy talking to my wife that way? My mouth opens to tell him off, but Celeste is already handling it herself.
“It’s a local bar near where I work and live, it’s not very hard math to do,” she snaps. “What brings you here on this lovely evening?”
“I wanted to see what all of the fuss was about,” he sniffs.
Harry then turns to me.
“If she threw water on my pants for only giving her a pat on the ass because she did a good job, I can’t even imagine what she’d do in a bar off the clock. Be careful with this one,” he warns conspiratorially, clearly thinking this is some kind of bro moment.
Everything in my freezes, and yet I see red at the same time.
“You did what now?”
I don’t even recognize my own voice, because I’ve never spoken so coldly to anyone. My fists are clenched at my side.
“All I did was pat her ass, it wasn’t a big deal, and she threw water on me. Made me and my friend have to leave the diner,” he says defensively, starting to read the room and realize I am two seconds away from decking him.
Unfortunately, punching his teeth out isn’t possible.
It would be a liability and legal nightmare if I actually put my hands on him, so kicking him out will have to do.
I’m in his face in the next second, trying to keep my anger as leashed as I can.
It’s hard when I know how his unwanted touch must have made Celeste feel.
“If you EVER touch my wife again, or even go near her again, I’ll personally press harassment charges. Stay the fuck away from her, and get out of my bar. You are not ever welcome back here,” I seethe.
He stupidly blinks several times in surprise at the revelations that she’s married to me instead of trying to just pick me up for the night, and that this is in fact my bar. It doesn’t take long for his face to contort back into what seems to be his resting asshole look, though.
“It sucks here anyway,” he sneers, shouldering past me and stomping out the door.
I turn to Iggy, who I’m sure clocked the entire interaction while still serving drinks.
“You got a good look at him, right? Send him away if he ever shows his ass in here again,” I say.
Iggy snorts.
“I doubt he’d have the balls to come here again, but yeah. I’ll gladly send him packing.”
My attention goes to Celeste. She looks pissed, and a little shellshocked.
“You ok?” I stroke my hand through her hair, and she relaxes a little.
“Yeah, thanks. He’s just a small man trying to feel big. Nothing new there,” she says on a sigh.
“When did that all happen at the diner? You never told me.”
She flaps a dismissive hand.
“It was weeks and weeks ago, before I moved in. I haven’t really thought about it since. My boss Doreen was nice and had my back, so it was fine. That asshole has been the least of my worries lately, it took me a second to recognize him when I saw him shooting daggers at me,” she says.
“You’ll tell me if anyone gives you trouble now? Please?”
She arches an eyebrow.
“I am more than capable of defending myself, you know.”
Then her face completely softens as she continues.
“It’s pretty nice to not have to be the one doing it for once, though. Yeah, I’ll tell you if stuff like that happens from now on.”
I pull her close again.
“We’ve got each other’s backs, right?” I murmur.
She simply nods against my chest. With one more quick kiss, I get back behind the bar and start pouring drinks with Iggy and one of our newer bartenders.
We’re in a groove, dancing around each other and joking with customers when I hear a faint noise behind me in the small stock room just off to the side of the bar, before the office.
Is Dad still doing inventory? Once I give the drinks I’m in the middle of making to the couple I’m helping, I hustle back there.
There’s a quiet grunt of pain when I open the door.
“Dad!”
My heart seizes, and my stomach drops when I see him splayed facedown on the floor.
“Dad, what happened? Can you move?” I ask, rushing to his side.
“I dropped my pen because of my damn shaking hands, and when I bent down to pick it up I lost my balance,” he grits out.
“Does it hurt anywhere? Did you hit your head?”
I’m trying so hard to keep my panic at bay, but I’ve never seen my dad lying down in pain like this. He’s always so stoic.
“I fell to the side, right on my hip. That’s what hurts the most.”
“Then I don’t think you should move. Hang tight, ok? I’m going to call an ambulance.”
This night that started so promising has quickly gone to hell.