A LIFE WITHOUT CHAOS
BELLA
E verything in my life seemed to be moving along seamlessly. It was a weird feeling to have things fall into place so effortlessly. Matthew’s house was set to close in twelve days. The inspections had come back with zero issues, which I was grateful for. And the grand opening of Addi’s restaurant was in a few hours.
I called my mom a few times, but we kept missing each other, so I still had no idea what Matthew had meant about asking my parents. Hopefully, she’d stop by the restaurant at some point today so I could ask her in person.
Speaking of, there was already a line of people waiting outside the door as we all finished prepping our respective stations. Addi was running around like a madwoman between Butch—the smoker in the back—and the cutting tables indoors. She had staff observing her every move, taking mental notes as she spoke and mimicking the way she did things with her food. Even I had to stop what I was doing to stare sometimes. Watching her was like watching an artist of sorts. Or a magician. She was magic with meat.
I started laughing.
“What’s so funny, Bella?” she shouted from behind the main counter.
I started shaking my head. “I was just thinking that you’re a meat magician,” I admitted, and she stopped whatever she had been doing to stare at me.
“I like it.” She reached inside one of the metal containers and plopped a piece of something into her mouth. “Can’t disagree. Might get a sign made and hang it above the register.”
I kept laughing before I cocked my head to the side. “You see that line outside?”
“I see it.” She nodded while she moved around the kitchen. “When does Anna get in?”
I glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Half an hour.”
“Will you be okay without her if we open early?” Addi asked with a little bit of concern written all over her face.
“Definitely.”
“All right. I’m thinking we shouldn’t keep the people waiting outside like that if we don’t have to,” she said, and I agreed, figuring that most of them would be coming for the food anyway.
People didn’t usually wait in line for hours to drink a cocktail.
“I’m good with it if you are,” I said as I finished cutting the limes and setting them aside. Glancing around my bar, I realized that I had everything ready to go.
The cocktail menus were set neatly in front of each stool, featuring our current seasonal drinks. Excitement rushed through me. And pride. I’d created this part of the restaurant, and there wasn’t anything I’d have done differently.
“I’m here!” I heard Anna shout before I saw her. “Hi.” She shimmied her way toward me, her blonde ponytail swishing back and forth.
“You’re early.” I was shocked.
“Didn’t want to be late on my first day. The line is insane,” she said, sounding out of breath. “It’s halfway down the street.”
“Really?” I asked because I’d had no idea how long it stretched.
“I feel like all of Sugar Mountain is here.” She giggled before she stepped up to the sink and washed her hands without me having to remind her to do it.
“Think you can handle a crowd?” I teased, but I wasn’t honestly sure if people would be drinking in the day or not.
“I guess we’re about to find out.” She gave me a concerned look. “What if I’m not good at this?”
“Then, I’ll fire you,” I said before laughing. “Or delegate you to beer only.”
She looked momentarily satisfied with my answer, but didn’t have time to argue about it because Addi stepped outside and talked to the line of people. I overheard her thanking them, saying she hoped they loved the food as much as she did. There was clapping and shouting, and before I knew it, the place was jam-packed. All the seats were taken, including the ones at the bar.
“Shit,” Anna cursed under her breath after the mixer she held in her hands dropped and the contents flew all over the bar and the floor.
Thank God none of the liquid had hit any patrons. I would have been mortified.
“Anna.” I tossed her a look.
She mouthed, Sorry , as she tried to clean up around me.
“Everyone okay?” I laughed, trying to play it off like it was no big deal and happened all the time.
Thankfully, everyone seemed to be in a good mood, and they laughed right along with us, not bothered by the hiccup at all.
My best friend was definitely struggling though. She broke a glass and then three more, simply trying to wash them, and I knew I was in trouble. The mixer had come apart one more time before I delegated her to drinks that only required pouring and a quick stir.
Hours passed, and once the bar finally slowed to a crawl, I took stock of the mess around me.
“Damn,” Anna said before she leaned her body against the ledge. “That was madness.”
“That was pretty crazy,” I agreed.
Today had been unprecedented, and we most likely wouldn’t keep up that level of business on a daily basis.
“Have you always been this clumsy and I just never noticed?” I asked because I’d never considered Anna a butterfingers, but today was off the charts.
“The bubbles make it slippery,” she explained before pointing down at the sink.
“What about the mixer?” I nudged her hip with my own.
“I don’t think I put it together right.”
She definitely hadn’t. The two pieces needed to be smacked into place and then held on to tightly as you shook it.
“Did you at least have fun?” I decided to ask the most important question.
Because if her answer was yes, then I might be able to salvage this. But if her answer was no, then there wouldn’t be much hope. Someone who enjoyed what they did, even if they were initially bad at it, would stick it out through the struggle and try to improve. Someone who hated it, however, would lack the desire to get better.
She winced. “Not really.”
Damn.
Not the answer I’d hoped for, but I’d still kind of expected it.
“How’s everyone doing?” Addi shouted from behind the counter, and all her employees mumbled different responses.
“Great first day, everyone. This was incredible. A few kinks to work out, but we’ll get there,” Addi announced with pride in her voice.
I had no idea what kinks had gone on in the kitchen, but I was fully aware of the ones behind the bar.
“Anna, you can take off,” I said, and she gave me a look like she wasn’t quite sure how to respond.
“I should stay and help clean, shouldn’t I?” she asked.
It was true—she should stay—but I wanted to take inventory of our liquor and go through sales to see what cocktails had done best and what we’d sold the most of. They were the kind of administrative tasks that I enjoyed doing alone.
“Typically, yes. But tonight, I kind of want to figure out how we can be better, going forward,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t argue because if she pushed me, I’d let her stay.
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” She jumped off the barstool and grabbed her things from behind the bar. “I get why you ice your feet now.”
“I’ll see you at home,” I said and watched as Anna headed out the door and Addi made her way toward me.
“You let her go?” she questioned.
“I have things I want to handle, and she’ll just mess me up,” I said, assuming that Addi, of all people, would understand that I was apparently a little controlling and didn’t always need an extra set of hands.
“I completely get that. How was the bar business? I swear I didn’t even check on you all day.”
“It was packed the entire time. Way more than I’d expected,” I admitted.
“Then, why do you look…” She cocked her head to the side and studied me. “I’m not sure what you look like.”
“Tired?” I offered, but we both knew that wasn’t it.
“Not tired, although you should be.” She raised her eyebrows and then narrowed her eyes. “You look like something I can’t place.”
“I just think it’s weird that Matthew didn’t show up.”
I couldn’t believe that I’d just said that out loud to her. The fact was, we had been insanely busy, but I’d noticed Matthew’s absence. Kept glancing toward the door, hoping to see him walking through it, but he never had. I thought it was weird. And annoyingly, I’d felt disappointment over it.
“I wondered if you’d notice that or not,” Addi said with a grin that told me she knew something I didn’t.
“What do you mean, if I’d notice?” I drained the sink before filling it with fresh water and cleaning fluid before setting the glasses inside to soak.
“I told the guys they couldn’t come until we closed.” She pointed at the door right when the four O’Grady men sauntered toward it together, looking way too sexy for their own good.
“Oh, good Lord,” I breathed out.
Addi laughed. “I know. Seeing them all together like that is a sight, isn’t it?” She stood there, staring, shaking her head.
“It’s something all right,” I agreed.
Jeremiah, Addi’s dad, hustled to catch up to the eldest O’Grady.
“Your dad’s here!” I said with a touch more enthusiasm in my voice.
“Of course he is. I had to threaten to break his leg again if he showed up any earlier.” She wiped her hands on the towel that was tucked into her apron.
“Why is your dad so hot? Look at those muscles,” I teased, but really, I wasn’t joking.
Her dad was ridiculously built for his age. Or any age, honestly. His arms and chest looked like they had been chiseled from stone.
“Please don’t make me fire you,” she groaned.
“You wouldn’t dare.” I grinned, and she tried to make a mean face but failed. “It’s not my fault your dad’s hot.”
“Stop it,” she whined before hustling toward the group of ridiculously sexy men. The group that included her dad, but really, I only had eyes for Matthew.
I watched as his gaze swept across the room before landing right on me. He gave me a subtle nod, and I couldn’t help but smile in return as he made a beeline in my direction.
“Thought about dating me yet?”
“Still thinking it over.”
“I must be losing my charm.”
“Trust me, your charm isn’t the issue.”
“Then, what is?”
“Bella.” Grant O’Grady appeared, clapping a hand on his son’s shoulder and nodding for me to come over to him. “Get over here and give me a hug.”
“Hi, Mr. O’Grady,” I said before falling into his arms and squeezing him tight.
I swore I heard Matthew growl.
“Did you just growl at me?” his dad asked as we moved apart, and I bit back a laugh.
“She hugs you, but not me. It’s not fair,” Matthew whined.
“Did you even ask her for a hug? I asked her for one,” Mr. O’Grady explained, and Matthew’s demeanor instantly softened.
“I want a hug too,” he said.
“Bet you do,” I teased.
“That’s not asking.” His dad shook his head like he was exasperated, but teasing Matthew was fun.
“Fine.” Matthew blew out a breath. “Bells, can I please get a hug?”
“Only ’cause you asked so nicely.” I grinned at his dad before stepping into Matthew’s open arms.
His six-foot-two-inch frame made me feel even shorter than usual. Typically, I was irritated with my lack of height, but I liked it a lot when it came to being in Matthew’s arms. I felt safe and protected.
“Good to see you, Bella. I’ve got to try some of Addi’s famous cooking,” Mr. O’Grady said before walking away and leaving me alone with his youngest son.
“See you later.” I removed myself from the warmth and strength of Matthew’s body, but his blue eyes were still fixated on me.
“I think you’ve thought it over. You have an answer for me, don’t you?”
“I might,” I said, but I really wasn’t any closer to an answer than the day that he’d asked. I’d been doing my best to distract myself and think of anything else. I cleared my throat, as if that might buy me some more time. “I think we should try to be friends first.” The idea popped straight into my head and right out of my mouth.
“Aren’t we already friends?” His lips quirked into a grin.
“Not really? It might be smart to get to know each other as adults? Right?” I delivered each sentence like it was a question to be answered.
“Friends.” He said the word like it was foreign to him somehow. Almost like he’d never even considered the concept before.
“Friends,” I repeated.
“I’ll try, Bells, but no promises.”
I actually spat out a laugh. “Why not?”
He leaned closer to me, his lips inches from my ear as he lowered his voice. “Because I’m constantly going to be thinking about fucking you. And friends. Don’t. Fuck.”
“Bella!” Brooklyn’s voice interrupted us, and I knew she’d done it on purpose.
I was actually grateful because what Matthew had just said almost knocked the wind out of me.
Glancing down, I noticed her holding hands with Clara, who was beaming up at me with a big, toothless grin.
“Hi, Miss Drink Maker. Hi, Uncle Matthew.” She wrapped her little arms around him, and he bent down to hug her. “Where’s your best friend?” she asked.
“My best friend?” he said in a sweet voice that was clearly only reserved for his niece.
“You know, your very best friend, Mr. Beer,” Clara said before giggling uncontrollably.
“Very funny, little one.” He tickled her until she squirmed away.
“Did you want me to get you a beer, Matthew?” I realized that he hadn’t asked for a drink, and I hadn’t offered him one.
He shook his head. “Nope. I’m good.”
Brooklyn and I made eye contact, giving each other a strange look. Matthew not drinking was something I’d file away to think about later. Brooklyn and I watched silently as he left and headed toward Thomas, who was standing at the counter, pointing at what looked like every single thing Addi had back there.
“Bella, Bella, bo-Bella, fee-fi, fo-fella, can I please have a Shirley Temple? Do you know how to make those? I love the cherries.” Clara grinned, and I quickly looked at Brooklyn for permission to tell her yes.
When Brooklyn gave me the okay, I responded, “One Shirley Temple with extra cherries coming up.”
Clara giggled and wiggled her way onto one of the barstools and watched me intently. It was a simple drink to make, but I went extra slow so that she could see how I did it.
“Three or four cherries?” I asked, leaning toward her.
She blew out a breath and contemplated the question, as if her whole life depended on the answer. “I think three is plenty. Four might make me sick, and I really hate being sick. Then, I’ll have to eat Mrs. Green’s soup, and I hate soup.”
Mrs. Green was Clara’s babysitter who also happened to live right across the street.
“I think three is plenty. Good choice,” Brooklyn interrupted.
I shuddered, just thinking about little Clara getting sick from a drink that I’d made her. The guilt would eat me up inside.
I pushed one of the seasonal cocktail menus toward Brooklyn before asking, “Do you want something to drink?”
“I can’t,” she whispered.
I was just about to ask her what she meant by that when she moved her hand to her stomach.
My mouth dropped open, and I went to yell, but she shook her head quickly.
“We haven’t told everyone yet.” She nodded toward Clara. “It’s still really early.”
“Told everyone what, Mama?” Clara beamed up at her.
I had no idea how Brooklyn would handle being put on the spot like that. I would have caved.
“Nothing, sweet girl. Adult stuff,” she said.
I wondered if Clara would accept that answer or not.
“Boo. Adult stuff is boring.” Clara was instantly uninterested and focused back on her drink, plopping the cherries into her mouth one by one until they were all gone.
The bells on the front door chimed, and I looked up out of instinct just in time to see my parents walking through. I hadn’t expected them to show up on opening day, but I was so excited to see them.
“Oh my gosh! My parents are here.” I couldn’t stop the giant smile that took over my face.
“Congratulations, by the way. I’m so happy for you,” I whispered in Brooklyn’s ear before rushing off to greet my mom and dad, who were currently looking around the updated space in awe.
“Isabella,” my mom cooed as soon as she saw me.
“This is so much nicer than the saloon,” my dad added.
I sighed because of course it was. The saloon was a historical landmark with a sordid history. I always thought it was cool that it was still open and operable. And I appreciated that it had never been updated or redesigned. The saloon felt like stepping back in time.
“Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez.” Matthew suddenly appeared at my side, towering over me like a giant caveman. “It’s so good to see you again.”
Again?
“What are you talking about?” I whipped my head toward him.
He pulled my mom in for a hug like they were old friends before shaking my dad’s hand.
What the hell is going on?
“It’s lovely to see you again, Matthew. Thanks for the after-hours invitation.” My mom grinned.
She’d always had a soft spot for Matthew O’Grady.
Guess it runs in the family.
“Someone had better tell me what the heck is going on,” I whined, but they ignored me like I hadn’t even said a thing and wasn’t even there.
“You haven’t told her?” My dad’s brow furrowed in confusion, but not anger.
“Not yet. She’s not ready,” Matthew responded with a grin, and my dad started laughing.
I was definitely left out of whatever was going on between my old crush and my parents —the betrayers . I didn’t enjoy it one bit. My annoyance flared, and I felt like a teenager all over again.
“She will be,” my mom added.
I wanted to stomp my feet and demand they tell me what they were talking about.
“Well, this was fun. Bye,” I said before turning on my heel to leave, but Matthew reached for my arm, stopping me from moving an inch farther away.
“I went to see your parents the other day,” Matthew explained.
I stared between the three of them, silently willing him to continue the story.
When he didn’t, I pushed, “Okay. Why?”
“I missed them,” he said with a smile, but I knew that was only part of the reason. “And I wanted to ask for their permission.”
“Permission for what?” I snapped without meaning to.
I hated when I got too snarky with Matthew. I never meant to do it, but the tone sometimes came out anyway.
“To date you,” he blurted out confidently.
My mouth fell right open in shock. “You asked my parents for permission to date me ? What is this, the 1950s?” I shook my head like he’d done the most ridiculous thing on the planet, but it was actually kind of sweet, and my heart was thumping in response. “What’d you guys say? Do we have to give him a dowry? Pay him with livestock when he takes me out?”
“I think we should let them talk, dear.” My mom wrapped her arm around my dad’s, and they headed toward the rest of the O’Grady men, who were all still gathered around the food, gesturing wildly.
“Are you mad at me?” Matthew asked as soon as my parents were out of earshot and we were alone.
“I’m annoyed with you,” I admitted.
“Look at me, Bells,” he begged.
I did as he’d asked because… of course I did.
“I’m serious about dating you. And I wanted to make sure your parents were okay with it.”
“Did they give you their blessing?” I rolled my eyes as I asked because I couldn’t imagine my parents telling him no for anything—not even their daughter’s heart.
He threw his head back and laughed. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re used to getting whatever you want.”
I watched as he leaned down to get even nearer to me. He always seemed to be doing that.
“I don’t know, Bells. You sure are making me work for it.”
“I think the best things are worth fighting for, don’t you?” I asked before taking a step back, putting some space between our bodies.
Whenever he was that close, it was a struggle for me to even think straight.
“Couldn’t agree more.” He grinned, and I wasn’t sure if he was just trying to mess with my head or not. “Want to know what I think?”
I shifted my weight to the other leg and jutted out my hip in response. “Can’t wait to hear it.”
“I think you like the fact that I’m chasing you. That I’m the one doing the pursuing instead of vice versa, like when we were both kids. You want me to work for it, and I’ll tell you, Bells, I’m not afraid to do it. I’m not afraid to put myself out there—”
“I don’t think you’re afraid of anything,” I interrupted.
His grin fell slightly, leaving a crooked smile in its wake. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m afraid I might go my whole life without touching you, or making love to you, or knowing how it feels to have your naked body in my arms while I make you scream my name.”
I started coughing as my cheeks heated. “You can’t just walk around, saying things like that.”
“Why not?” He closed the space I’d put between us just moments before. “Oh, right. Because we’re just friends? We’re not just friends, Bells. We never have been, but I’ll let you keep up the lie for a little bit longer if that’s what it takes. Don’t get too comfortable with it though.”
He dropped the words on me like little bombs before walking away and making a beeline straight for my parents, who welcomed him with open arms, literally. I felt like I was in some sort of alternate universe, where Matthew O’Grady was singularly focused on me and had the full support of my family to do it.
But in all the things that he’d just said to me, he had been right about one—I did like that he was chasing me. It felt good, even if it was confusing and a little intimidating. I enjoyed being the center of his attention and him pursuing me.
So, what kind of monster did that make me?