Chapter 2
BLAIR
It’s crazy for a weeknight.
The dance floor is packed, the booths are full, and the bar is busy.
Unfortunately, a few bartenders called out, so it’s just Travis and me tonight.
I know my feet will be killing me by the end of the shift, but I also know that this means at least double the tips.
Thankfully, I’ve been at this long enough that every drink is memorized in my head, and I’m great at multitasking.
Despite the staff shortage, no one has complained about waiting, which I count as a personal victory.
“Behind you,” Travis’s low voice says at my ear as he moves past me while I refill the ice. I ignore the shiver that runs down my spine, chalking it up to being startled by his proximity.
We make a good team. He’s the one that trained me in all of this and was more patient than I expected him to be.
His outward appearance can be disconcerting—he’s huge, covered in tattoos, and rarely smiles, but he’s also kind and gentle.
He listens to my stupid jokes when business is slow and asks me questions about the cat rescue.
His presence is calming, and I secretly look forward to the shifts we have together.
As he passes me, I catch a whiff of his scent, and my mouth waters.
Wood and smoke. Like a starry night, away from the rest of the world, with the only light coming from a campfire.
I clear my throat and swivel around, quickly pouring shots into each glass before topping them with whatever juice or soda is needed.
His tattoos are showing tonight, his muscled arms on display in his black t-shirt. I find myself looking at them more than necessary and want to ask questions about all of them.
A little bit of grey and blonde stubble shows on his cheeks and chin tonight, too. His dirty blond hair is cropped short, but just long enough that I could run my fingers through it if I really wanted to.
Not that I want to, though.
Travis is a work friend, and that’s it.
He’s a great coworker.
It’s only once the crowd dies down and we’re rinsing glasses that he has a full conversation with me.
“I saw a cat today,” he murmurs, and I feel his eyes on me as I wipe down the bar counter.
My ears perk up. “Oh, yeah? Where?”
“Down the street from my house. It was a ragdoll breed, I think.” His voice is low and almost monotone, but I know him by now.
Travis doesn’t hold conversation just to be polite. He’s not naturally chatty, so if he’s talking, it’s because he wants to, not because he thinks he has to fill some awkward silence.
It’s something I appreciate.
“Tell me about the cat,” I say, turning to him fully as I polish a glass. I meet his eyes, a dark brown with an intensity behind them that shatters his uncaring facade. “Are we trapping it, are you adopting it…”
“Uh, no,” he chuckles. “I just…you said those breeds were rare, right?”
“A ragdoll? Absolutely. Did it look healthy? Was its fur full and shiny?” I set down the glass and lean against the counter, cocking an eyebrow.
He shrugs. “I think so. Should I keep an eye out, in case I see it again? Are there any signs I need to look for?”
Another thing I’ve learned about Travis in the past year: he’s a big softie.
“Aww,” I say, teasing him. “You’re such a bleeding heart.”
He narrows his eyes. “Shut up,” he murmurs, and I catch the tips of his ears reddening and a flush spreading up his neck.
But my smile is genuine, and he huffs and almost smiles back at me. “I have my own feelings about cats being outdoors, but if you see it again, try and snap a picture for me,” I say.
“Oh, I have some,” he says quickly, and pulls his phone out from his dark jeans. Placing the clean glass on its rack, I move closer to Travis, my shoulder almost touching his upper arm as he swipes through the photos on his phone.
It isn’t lost on me that he took a picture of a cat just to show me.
The realization makes my chest ache, and I try not to dwell too much on the thought.
I also try not to acknowledge I’m holding my breath.
The bar is full of different aromas from Omega and Alphas pheromones. Even when I scent Travis, other faded notes of Alphas swirl around with his.
But this close, when all I can sense is wood and smoke, I try not to inhale too deeply.
My body responds in all the ways it shouldn’t.
I wonder if he does the same when I get too close to him.
Eventually, he finds the photos he’s looking for, and his long, thick fingers zoom in on his phone’s screen, showcasing a regal-looking fluffy cream cat. Dark ears and piercing blue eyes compliment the cat’s face, and the coffee colored feather-duster tail is all the confirmation I need.
“Definitely a Ragdoll,” I murmur. “Stunning.”
He shrugs and swipes through a few more photos, including one with the cat in the middle of a peaceful slow blink.
I nudge his arm playfully. “You’re not a bad photographer,” I murmur.
“Oh, I have this one, too,” Travis says softly, scrolling through his phone. “I saw these guys the other night.”
The ache in my chest grows.
We stand quietly together, the bass of the music a faint pulse in my ears. The rush has finally died down, and for a few moments, Travis and I have the bar to ourselves.
There’s always more to do, always something to stock or refill if we’re not making drinks.
But I still look forward to those fleeting, rare moments where it’s just the two of us.
Even if I have to hold my breath to resist overdosing on his incredible scent.
I smile at each cat he shows me on his phone, my grin widening the longer he scrolls through the album.
But then, there’s an ugly cough and the snapping of fingers, startling me out of our moment.
“Hello? Can I get some fucking help here?”
I whip around to see an Alpha wearing a v-neck shirt two sizes too small to show off his muscles. His lips are twisted into a sneer, and a patchy uneven goatee on his face ties the whole cringey look together.
He also carries with him an unpleasant scent of sulfur and tar, which makes me cringe inwardly.
“Sure,” I start to say, but Travis interrupts me.
“Did you just snap your fingers at her?” he asks.
A secret smile curves at my lips.
He’s pissed.
It wouldn’t be the first time Travis has had to set someone straight after they’ve been disrespectful to the staff, and it sure won’t be the last time.
But tonight? Something warm bubbles in my core as Travis steps up, ready to defend me.
He knows I can hold my own. We’ve had the conversation before that I’m more than capable of shutting down anyone trying to cross my boundaries, but tonight seems a little different.
This is one of the few nights it’s just the two of us working, and the egg salad smelling Alpha interrupted our lovely moment of looking at cat photos together.
“I need a drink,” he says to me, purposely not looking at Travis. He even angles his body so he’s facing me directly, his too-tight shirt almost ripping at the seams. “You want to make me something, sweetheart?”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from scoffing at his condescending tone.
Beside me, I can practically feel Travis fuming. The scent of smoke fills my nostrils as Travis calmly lays a napkin down in front of the Alpha. “I’ll be making your drinks tonight,” he says evenly, with no room for argument.
I could step in, but for some reason, watching Travis take control makes fire lick up my spine.
There’s no real threat, but something primal in me stirs awake.
Which means it’s time for me to take my final break of the night, get a drink of water, and not salivate over something ridiculous.
But I’m frozen in place as a showdown between the customer and Travis takes place.
“I want her to serve me,” he snaps. “Not you.”
I shudder at his choice of words.
“And I want to break your fingers for treating a woman with disrespect,” Travis says, his voice low and deadly. “But it looks like neither of those things are happening tonight.”
My core should not clench at his words.
In fact, I’m going to pretend it didn’t.
Instead, I smirk at the customer. “It’s time for my break anyway,” I say, clapping Travis on the shoulder. “But don’t worry, you’re in good hands.”
The forlorn expression on the egg salad Alpha is worth it. He looks at Travis and visibly swallows, his throat bobbing.
With a cheeky smile, I head into the back of the building, feeling Travis’s gaze trailing behind me.
Once I’m sure I’m out of sight of anyone from the front of the bar, I wipe at my forehead and sigh heavily.
My body responded to Travis, much more than it should have.
I vow to never look at cat pictures on his phone with him again.