Chapter Eighteen #2
“Mine,” Elliot rebuts. “Tonight, SS is mine. He stands with my idea to let loose tonight. Therefore, he is mine…”
Jake chuckles. “You sound like those seagulls from Finding Nemo, for fuck’s sake.”
Seagulls. Gulligan. I wonder how my little baby birdy buddy has been doing without me here. I wonder how he’d get along with the puppy the girls and I adopted. Twinkie, a little dachshund we picked up at the local humane society.
Now, I may have matured a lot lately, but I can’t resist a good "wanna pat my wiener?" joke.
“Hey, did any of you happen to see a friendly acting seagull around here at all earlier?” I ask them.
Jake cocks an eyebrow at me. “Uh, yeah, actually. My hubby, who can’t be bothered to take off his Game Warden hat for an entire evening, found an injured one in the parking lot earlier—a young one.
Leev insisted on contacting the local avian sanctuary to take him in.
” Then, he narrows his eyes at me. “You’re not habituating that bird to humans… are you?”
“Me?” I scoff, flapping my hand at him. “Of course,” I blatantly admit. “Gulligan is my little buddy.”
Jake guffaws. “Love that name. I would have gone with Skuttle, though. Don’t let Levi catch wind of your little buddy, however. He’s kind of a stickler about wild animals staying wild.”
I snort. “Then I won’t mention that my brother has a pair of raccoons…”
Elliot gasps. “That’s fuckin’ epic!” Then, he side eyes his twin. “Q, can we—”
“Absolutely not,” Quinn grunts. “You know I love animals, but we literally have a full house now.”
“But I want a donk—”
“No,” Quinn reaffirms, cutting Elliot off.
“—ey. Goddamn it, Red! You never let me have any fun!”
“We have fun all the time.”
“Now you’ve done it,” Jake laments to me. He pats the bartop, then leans in and whispers, “Don’t let them get too drunk, though. They like to go streaking outside of bars if they’ve had too much.”
Quinn rolls his eyes. “Never going to live that down, are we?”
“Nah, Bert,” Jake says, “you’re too much fun to rankle. Anyway,” he adds, turning his attention back to me, “I’ve got the rest of the table’s orders.”
I pull out a pen and an order slip as he rapid-fire rattles them off. “I’ll take a rum and Coke. My hubby, the guy in the olive green shirt, just wants a Coke, hold the rum. Shart—er, Shane, my brothers’ Viking—wants a seltzer water.”
“Got it,” I note, tapping the pen on the paper. “You’re going to have to bear with me, I’m not one of those fancy bottle twirlers back here.”
“Oh. Okay, cool,” he hums as I get to work on mixing up their drinks to the best of my ability. None are all that complex, I’m just slow and being behind the bar is throwing me off. I’m certainly nowhere near as good at this as Gordy.
Fuck, there I go thinking about Gordy again…
“What brings you out to Ternbay? Guys’ night out?” I ask, attempting conversation to cover up my blatant lack of ability.
Elliot grins. “First away game of the new season. We all play in an adult softball league, the Ridge Falls Raiders. Our little brother”—he hikes a thumb at Jake—“is a food blogger, so he found this place. Do you run Portside Pub?”
I shake my head and point to Taryn. “His dad owns the place, but he’d like to take it over soon.”
“Oh, no shit!” Jake chuffs. “I advertise places just like this on my YouTube channel. Lemme go see if I might be able to offer the kid my services,” he adds with a wink.
“Just make sure they’re your camera man services only,” the bearded man in the olive green shirt huffs, sauntering up behind Jake and wrapping a possessive arm around Jake’s mid-section. Must be the aforementioned husband. Levi, I presume.
Jake beams up at Levi. “Yes, sir.”
A devilish grin splits the bearded one’s face before they head over to proposition Taryn.
As for the other two brothers? I promise to have a server bring over their drinks once I am done with them, since I’ve been sufficiently distracted and I’m sure they want a drink sometime this evening.
The twins thank me before taking their seat next to the only remaining dude in their group I haven’t met yet.
The tatted behemoth, who looks like he’s about to bust out of his too-tight t-shirt, and with his blond locks tied up in a man bun, must be Shane.
Seeing that guy reminds me of another, albeit non-blond, inked up wall of muscle.
One which nobody here seems to have any idea regarding the whereabouts of, since none of the locals here have had eyes on him lately either.
After I mix these drinks, I should probably shoot off a text to O’Reilly what protocol is on missing persons.
“What are you doing behind the bar?” a gruff voice from behind me asks, startling me.
I spin to find the man who has single-handedly dominated all of my lonely, lust-filled fantasies since he jerked us both off in the shower weeks ago.
Gordy.
And, as I let my gaze rake over him in disbelief that he’s not just a figment of my imagination, he looks…
so fuckin’ good. He’s grown his beard out completely now—groomed to give him this whole sexy, biker-lumberjack vibe.
He’s distinctly lacking in the bags he wore under his eyes when I last saw him, and—speaking of eyes—his amber orbs seem to practically glow with liveliness that I’ve never seen before.
It’s astonishing, this transformation. It’s astonishing and it’s… infuriating.
Maybe it’s the nonchalant way he just greeted me, as if he hadn’t had a single chalant to fucking give, or the self-assured way he just—I don’t know—waltzed back into town after ghosting everyone for the last two months, but I instantly launch into the defensive.
“Working, unlike you. The fuck are you doing here?” I balk incredulously.
He looks around, then meets my inquisitive gaze again. “Last time I checked, I owned this place.”
“When was the last time you checked?” I growl. “Because, for the last two months, you’ve left your son to run this place… all on his own.”
He folds his arms over his chest, popping his tongue in his cheek, clearly mulling over an answer. Well, it better be something goddamned good, because annoyance is mounting in me over the way he just—left. That fuckin’ hurt, and it’s clear by the way Taryn spoke earlier, it hurt him too.
“I’ve been working on other things. Stuff I had to do myself,” he states simply. No further explanation. No nothing.
Well, shit. Look at him moving on. He really meant what he said that night. He doesn’t want me. He thought I was too weak or immature to make my own decisions about where I wanted us to go from that night. He wants to do everything by himself. Alone. Well, fuck him…
“What the hell, man? That’s all you have to say for yourself after you fuckin’ ghosted everyone for two goddamn months?! You never said a word to Taryn before you disappeared, dude. You’re damn lucky Taryn’s been able to manage this place without you.”
Gordy surveys the pub. “Looks to me like he’s done a decent job keeping the place afloat. The place is packed tonight. Local celebrities are here, for crying out loud.” He gestures at the table the Harnden twins and crew have been occupying.
“Yeah, well he shouldn’t have had to do it alone. And you shouldn’t have felt like you had to do whatever it was you were doing alone. Jesus Christ, Gordy, how many times do I have to spell it out for you that I am here! Right fuckin’ here!”
His jaw ticks, his fists balling at his side. “I know that, Gannett,” he growls. “But there are some things I can’t fuckin’ do with you. This happened to be one of those things.”
Another wave of annoyance crashes into me, forcing me to take a few steps backwards. My ass crashes into the bar, and I spin on my heels. Fuck him. Fuck this. It’s his bar, so he can stay and help Taryn out tonight.
“You’re never going to let me in, are you?” I snarl. “You’re always going to see me as some needy pissant and not your friend. Well, fuck you. You wanna be a stone wall? Fine. Have fun with that. I’m done standing sentry at your gates, waiting for you to let me in.”
I slap down the slip of drink orders for Gordy and go in search of Taryn to let him know that I’m taking off for the night, since his dad has finally resurfaced.
I don’t see T-dawg on the floor, so he must be out back.
I’m in such an agitated state, that I almost bump right into the Harnden twins just as they’re stepping out of the restroom.
“Whoa, hey,” Elliot splutters, catching me before I crash into them. Then he chuckles. “I know a lover’s quarrel when I hear one. You alright, man?”
“We’re not lovers,” I grunt. “We’re not anything. We never were.”
Ta-da! Here I am! Captain Obvious!
Quinn’s eyes dart over my shoulder, then back to me. “You sure about that? The guy behind the bar looks like you just ripped his heart out and stomped on it…”
My shoulders dip. I don’t turn around to look at Gordy. I don’t need to. “Nah, that’s his resting bitch personality showing.”
Elliot snickers. “Is that like a resting bitch face, but when it’s a whole vibe instead?”
My lips tip up into a grin. This guy fuckin’ gets it, lemme tell you what. Elliot seems like a like-minded person, so that’s why I tell the man I just met tonight, “It’s why I call him Croot. Gordy’s a crouton.”
“Oh, Lord,” Quinn mutters. “Another one who likes to pet-name everyone...”
Elliot laughs, gesturing between him and myself. “Kindred spirits. I like you, Gannett. Tell you what, since I like you… you know what will make you feel a little better?”
“What?” I ask.
“Make him jealous,” Elliot says, tilting his head back towards the bar. “Come hang out with us. I’ll give you some longing looks and touch your thigh or something.”
Quinn pinches the bridge of his nose and puffs out an exasperated breath. “Wow, El, how old are you?”
I shake my head. “As much as I’d like to, I’m working on this whole maturity thing. Besides, he’d have to have an ounce of interest in me in order for that plan to work.”
Before I even realize what’s happening, I feel myself being tugged forward at the right side of my waist and Elliot’s lips mash into mine.
Near my left ear, Quinn gasps. Elliot doesn’t try to force his tongue or anything, just keeps his mouth pressed to mine, his hand sliding up my back and into my hair.
“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck… Elliot,” Quinn hisses.
The corner the three of us are standing in suddenly darkens, as if a large shadow—or rather, shadows—loom over us.
Elliot’s eyes widen as he backs away from me. His hand leaves the back of my neck and draws up defensively. “SS, it’s not what it looks—”
“Then what the fuck is it?” a low, dangerous voice growls behind me.
I spin to find both the blond and the non-blond tatted jacked-up men standing behind me, both with their arms crossed, wearing matching glares.
Elliot stammers, finally croaking, “A test?”
“A test of what, exactly?” blondie snarls at Elliot. “Our marriage? Because what the fuck do I tell Wildflower about this, you kissing some other guy at the bar?!”
“Oh my gosh, no! Please don’t tell Pix! It didn’t mean anything!” Elliot cries out.
“Elliot is, once again, being an idiot, Shane,” Quinn interjects, reaching to place a hand on blondie’s—er, I guess, Shane’s. “He formulated some hair-brained spur-of-the-moment scheme to try to make that guy jealous,” he adds, tilting his head towards Gordy.
“Mission fuckin’ accomplished,” Gordy sneers, stomping away.
“Welp,” Elliot sighs, after Gordy has pushed his way out the backdoor, “guess we sorted that out. Looks like dude does have more than an ounce of interest in you after all.”
“What the actual fuck, Elliot?” Quinn hisses. “I doubt he still will after the shit you just pulled.”
“I know I’m sure as hell not impressed,” Shane mutters, arms still folded over his chest.
“Oh, fuck off, big guy. I didn’t even slip Gannett any tongue. It was a meaningless peck on the lips,” Elliot balks at him, then adds to me, “No offense…”
Still reeling, the only thing I can come up with for a reply, like the dumbass that I am, I say, “I’m sure you have a magnificent tongue.”
If looks could kill, I’m certain Shane just torpedoed my ass. “He does, but for the sake of your jaw, I’d scrub the thought of that kiss from your memory. Unless, of course, you like eating your food through a straw…”
“Scrubbed! Jesus, it’s scrubbed,” I yelp, cowering. “Don’t hurt me.”
Shane dons a bemused sort of smirk directed at me, he then pinches Elliot’s earlobe. “Ow! Ow!” Elliot hisses.
Shane growls, “Come sit, before you cause any more trouble here tonight, and we’ll discuss your punishment later…”
Quinn glances over his shoulder as they’re being hauled away. “Sorry about all that,” he apologizes.
Well, that was… interesting.