Chapter 13 Eeny Meeny #2
The guy gulped and nodded frantically. Karson released him. A blond clutched the guy’s arm, throwing Karson a sharp look as she dragged him away.
Karson’s eyes fixed casually on mine. They were hazel, with a ring of brown around his pupils. Not simply brown like I’d first thought. He had the kind of eyes that seemed to go beyond the depths of what was ordinary, as if they held a thousand stories buried beneath a sheath of green.
And I wanted to read all the pages.
He was unnaturally gorgeous.
My heart began to beat fast, and a rush of something like desire burst through me. Danger, my mind whispered, step back. My traitorous body ached to step in. I planted my feet, so I didn’t lean closer, melt into him, have those fingers slip around my back, feel his lips on my throat.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
A lazy smirk edged the corner of his lips as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.
Annoyance at my reaction flared in my veins. I took a deep breath and lifted my chin. “Thank you for your help, but I could have sorted him out on my own.”
“I’m sure you could,” he drawled, like he didn’t think so at all.
I clenched my teeth. “I can handle myself.”
He looked like he was fighting laughter. His eyes twinkled as they tracked up and down my body. “You didn’t look like you had him handled. Far from it.”
I folded my arms. “Well, I did and you didn’t have to rush in like some knight in shiny armor.”
“I’m far from a knight.” His voice was low, almost a purr, but it was laced with menace. “But I will not allow my staff to be touched by anyone.”
He arched a brow as if challenging me to defy him again. The last thing I wanted to do was argue with my boss, who was probably moments away from firing my ass. I retreated, a smile slashing my face. “If I need help, I’ll be sure to ask.”
His fingers grazed the edge of the bar. “Duly noted, now grab me a whiskey, will you, sweetheart?”
His arrogance grated on my nerves, but it was his words, spoken like an old-school sexist, chauvinist pig that really ruffled my feathers.
“I’m not your sweetheart,” I snapped.
Karson’s eyes narrowed, scorching a brand on my skull. This could be my first and last shift. I regretted the stance, but it was too late now.
“Okay, Karson, let’s not annoy Amy on her first night.” Shelley appeared from nowhere, sliding a whiskey in front of him. “It’s hard enough to get staff in this town.”
After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only seconds, he took the glass and strode with long lithe strides to his seat at the end of the bar.
I grabbed a dirty glass and thudded it down on a tray, muttering under my breath. “Ass.”
I risked peeking to the side; Karson was talking to a brunette. Ethan had his hand curled around a glass, his eyes on me, a wolfish grin on his face, as if he heard what I said. Maybe he read my lips?
I drew in a tight breath and turned my attention back to the patrons, where a woman was waiting.
Her jet-black hair was pulled into a severe ponytail.
She was dressed all in black—fitted black leather pants and a black tank top.
She rested her elbows on the bar, and a thick silver bangle with a black stone caught the overhead bar lights and glimmered against her tanned, muscled arms. A wolf tattoo covered the entire top of her left arm.
Her fingers were covered with an assortment of silver rings.
“What can I get you?”
Cool blue eyes met mine. “Scotch.”
I poured a full shot into a glass. “Ice?”
“No.”
I set the glass down in front of her.
“Thanks,” she murmured, placing seven dollars on the counter. I took the money and popped it in the till.
I watched with faint amusement as a short, black-haired, bearded guy slid himself in beside her.
“You’re not from around here, are you? I’m Kevin.” He smiled through pencil-thin lips.
Her eyes were sharp as a hunter’s blade as she said, “Fuck off.”
He cleared his throat, took a big sip of his beer, froth clinging like snow to his facial hair, and scurried away.
I stifled a chuckle. I noticed Karson making a beeline for her. She looked up as he neared. I slid a beer over the bar and held out the credit card machine for a guy to tap, trying not to look like I was listening.
“Dahlia, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
I glanced up. Neither smiled. She muttered something in response, but I couldn’t hear it over the noise.
His lips quirked in the corners, but there was no warmth on his face.
None on hers, either. They spoke back and forth, glaring at each other.
Was she an ex-girlfriend? If so, it was safe to assume the breakup wasn’t amicable.
A thirsty customer called out an order, and I was forced to move away.
The night passed quickly. It was getting late and not many people remained, other than a few groups of rowdy, drunk young adults, and the odd older man with blood-veined eyes from hours of drinking.
There were likely no wives to go home to, or perhaps ones they were avoiding.
Thankfully, Shelley had stayed at the end of the bar where Ethan and Karson sat, making my avoidance of them easy.
Clint was collecting final glasses, messing around, and laughing with the patrons he seemed to know well.
I stood with Grace in the middle of the bar.
“What’s he doing?” I asked. Ethan was pointing to different girls scattered around the room. Grace picked up a glass that didn’t need wiping and wiped it anyway, peering up at him.
“Oh, Ethan does that all the time. He’s playing ‘Eeny Meeny Miney Moe’ to decide which girl he’s taking home tonight.”
I’m not sure if I was more shocked by what he was doing, or that she said it like he was selecting wine from the shelf.
I watched with bafflement as he mouthed the words, “Eeny Meeny Miney Moe, catch a tiger by the toe,” as he pointed around the room with his index finger.
“If he hollers let him go, Eeny Meeny Miney Moe.” As he mouthed the last word he settled on a young, twenty-something girl in a short skirt and bobbed brunette hair.
He jumped up, sauntered over, and whispered something into her ear. She looked up and giggled.
He turned and walked to the door, and like a little lost puppy, she followed along behind him.
I looked quizzically at Grace, not quite believing what I was seeing. “A simple whisper in the ear is all it takes for someone to go home with him?”
“He’s hot property—all the girls swoon over him. He can have anyone he likes, and he’s pretty much slept with half the town.” Grace’s gaze followed Ethan’s back.
“Don’t tell me you . . .?” My voice trailed off.
She straightened a few glasses in the tray, a cheeky smirk twitching her lips. “Once or twice. He’s just so good in bed.”
I wrinkled my nose. The attraction I felt for him shrunk, displaced by a mix of hostility and disgust.
“Sounds like he gets plenty of practice.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You know there are things called vibrators, right?”
Her smile widened. “I have two. But vibrators don’t have tongues.”
I laughed.
“Amy, you can knock off now. I’ll see you next Friday at the same time,” Shelley said.
The rancorous gaze I’d encountered at the start of the shift was gone.
Instead, an indifferent look replaced it.
Not exactly a huge step forward, but an improvement at least. I went out the back, grabbed my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and headed out.
Grace had moved back down to the end of the bar, leaning on her elbows as she chatted to Karson.
She turned, giving me a little wave and a smile.
I waved back. I couldn’t help but sneak one last peek at him and regretted it.
He lifted his eyes and caught mine. The power of his stare was electrifying, and small goose bumps danced on my skin.
I dropped my head and surged forward, even as I felt his gaze tingling on my back and I had the weirdest sensation to turn around, as if there was a rope wrapped around my heart, tugging me back.
The feeling subsided as the snapped the door shut behind me and a swoop of warm air cloaked my shoulders.
What was it about him that intrigued me so much?
Sure he was handsome, but I’d met many handsome men before with no effect at all.
Maybe it was because he held an air of mystery, and I’d always loved a good mystery.
His voice echoed in my head. “Get me a whiskey, will you, sweetheart?” For shit’s sake, what century did he think we were in?
I neared my car, hauling the keys from my handbag, and pressed the unlock button.
The lights winked in the darkness. I opened the door, but something dragged my attention back towards the bar.
I had the inexplicable feeling of being watched—the same sensation I’d felt in the forest. Despite the warm air, a chill ran down my spine.
Beyond the light spilling out from the bar, streetlights washed a dull glaze over the pavement like spotlights. Further beyond that, buildings lurched from the darkness like tombstones.
I searched the shadows, nothing moved, nothing was out of place, and yet I couldn’t shake the feeling . . .
I was in a town where everyone knew everyone.
The crime rate was almost nonexistent. The only things keeping Matt busy, other than the odd missing hiker, were probably underage kids drinking or pocketing sweets from the corner milk bar.
It was absurd to frighten myself like this.
What was I, five? I shook my head, brushing off the feeling, then got into my car and drove toward home.
When I went past the Millers’ place, the sheriff’s car was outside their house, even though I hadn’t met them yet, I hoped everything was alright.