5. Birdie
5
BIRDIE
Saturday night. It's only been a day since I met Will Cooper for the first time, I already know it's not something I'm likely to forget. But for the next few hours or so, I have to since I'm working behind the bar at the Lion's Lair Tavern.
It's only six and the place is already pumping, the air thick with chatter and raucous laughing, punctuated by clinking glass and background music coming from the live band warming up in the corner. Later, the place will get wild and rowdy–as small-town country bars often do–but for now, it's feeding me the energy I thrive on to get me ready for a busy night ahead.
My boss, Eric, the longtime owner of the Lair, spots me and jerks his chin. "Hey, Birdie. Ready for a big night?" he says with a grin.
"When am I not?"
"Just what I want to hear." Stopping in front of me, he hands over the keys to the kingdom. "I'm goin' to head home to have a quick dinner with my family for the first time this week. I'll be back at ten to help with the long-timers and over-imbibers." I crack a smile and nod. "Call me if you get swamped or need me, yeah?"
"Sure thing, boss. Tell Lizette hi from me and give that little godson of mine a big sloppy kiss from his Aunt Birdie."
"Will do. Look after my bar."
"What about myself?" I smirk.
Eric rolls his eyes, well used to my antics by now. "Yes, Birdie. You too."
Once Eric is gone, I lock eyes with the drummer of the house band and smile before pointing my finger up to the roof, our own little silent signal to get the party started.
Next, I check in with my bar and service staff, making sure they have everything they need and telling them to let me know if there's anything I can help them with. Lastly, I sweet through the kitchen, checking the pass for any problems and letting Margaux, our head cook, know that Eric's out and I'm in.
Thankfully I'm Margie's favorite person—mainly because she's old enough to be my grandmother and all her family are back in Louisiana, so she adopted me as an honorary grandchild a long time ago. That means I bat my lashes and give her an innocent grin and she melts like sleet in the sunshine. Better still, Margie knows I'm doing it and lets me get away with it anyway because she's awesome .
"Hey, sweet Birdie. How's my favorite girl today?"
"Better for seein' you, Margie. That's all I know," I reply.
She eyes me suspiciously. "Good, girl. Good. You been keepin' out of trouble?"
I bat my lashes. "Don't I always?"
"Yeah, you do. Maybe one day you'll give this old lady what she wants and tell me a story about you causin' mischief for once."
"I promise you, Margie. One day, I'll surprise you. Deal?" I ask.
She winks. "You do that. Now, it's time you get back out there and make sure those country heathens don't wreck the place while the boss man is gone. Ain't got no time for gasbaggin' when there's food to cook."
"You know where I am if you need me," I remind her as I back into the swinging doors leading back out into the tavern.
"Always do, Birdie."
Slipping behind the bar and seeing that a new wave of people have come in, I quickly jump into action and get to work.
After clearing the queue, I move on autopilot, wiping the top of the bar and collecting empties while watching the dancefloor, I look out across the dancefloor, the sight of kicking feet and bumping shoulders making me smile as cowboys, cowgirls, and locals alike all shimmy and jive, kicking up their boots to celebrate the weekend. As I'm known to do, I even start dancing along, shaking my hips and joining in on the fun.
It's while I'm doing this that I sense a change in the air, my skin feeling itchy and strange just like it did at the shop yesterday. Moving of their own volition, my eyes move to the front of the building just as I spot Will, his brothers, and some of the Barnes' men from Eagle Mountain Ranch strolling in.
I can't be the only one who feels it either because I'm not the only one who notices their arrival, the easy confidence in which they command the room has many a head turning their way.
"Who are they ," Lisa, one of my fellow bartenders asks.
"That, dear Lisa, is Ridley Cooper's grandsons. They've just moved here–" I realize I know nothing about them. Not their ages, their jobs, or where they've come from. All I know is that they came here from the Lower 48. "They moved here cause of Ridley's passin'. That's all I know," I say, hedging my bets.
"So far," she muses.
"What?" My head jerks back to her after my eyes somehow return to tracking the Coopers' progress through the crowd.
"Babe, you can't stop lookin' at them. Which one is it? The tall one? Oooh, the twins? One of them even has a baby face and dimples . I just can't …" She starts fanning her face and all I can do is watch and laugh.
I wish I knew more about them, it might help me understand why meeting Will has had such an effect on me. All I know is that their grandfather was a good—albeit, quirky—man who loved his family fiercely, and his ranch even more so. He wanted to protect his land and its legacy. Just knowing Ridley had me intrigued by what his kin might be like. After I made a fool of myself blushing and rambling to Will–and him seeming to like it–I'm even more determined to find out everything I can about him…Oh, and his brothers.
To say that I've been running our first meeting through my head repeatedly is an understatement. It was such a strange and surreal moment. As soon as they walked in, it was like I couldn't look away–a bit like now. I've never met anyone who not only got me and my overly friendly personality, but if I wasn't projecting, it was almost like Will didn't want me to leave either.
Then again, I have been told I am too much before. Add in my Dad being the Mayor, and me knowing all the pros and cons of every eligible man in the district, my experience with dating is approximately…. nada. I'm not desperate, I'm happy enough within myself not to need a man–but I would like to find the right one eventually.
"Ain't no woman should ever be told she's too much. If anythin', whoever told her that needs to go off and find someone else who's more on their level. Someone less."
I was lucky my knees didn't give out when said that. It came out so easily, like it was something he truly believed.
What stuck in my mind was the way I felt when Will was near me. Granted, we've only met once. But when he walked in tonight, I could still feel it... or sense it. That's why I stayed up late last night and started rereading Aster Hollingsworth's mountain man books.
Will and his brothers are Coopers–as in the Coopers–from the same bloodline which an ancient mountain prophecy is said to have been passed from generation to generation. It may be folklore and has likely been changed and romanticized a lot over the years like a long game of Telephone. But having read all of Aster's books about the mountains and the spirit's Call, I think there must be some truth to it.
In fact, when I asked Ridley about it during one of our visits, he all but confirmed that it was real. He wouldn't say anything more to me about it though, but he did take Dad outside for one of their 'talking walks' after that.
The only thing that's giving me pause about the whole 'mountains call' idea is that in Aster's books, it's always the soulmates for the Call's recipients that get called to town. But since Ridley's grandsons are the ones that have moved here, could it be that it's Coopers being called back to the mountain this time? That somehow, they need something that only the connection to their family land can give them.
I shake my head. Soulmates are called to the mountain, not the ones being rewarded. So that can't be it. Now I'm even more confused.
Yet again my eyes track Will and the group as they claim two high tables in the front corner of the room, pushing them together and grabbing enough high stools for everyone. Will is my focus though, my gaze drawn to his throat as he throws his head back with laughter.
His chestnut hair is short on the back and sides, sitting a little longer on top and at the front, the wavy locks shining in the dim lighting overhead. It hits me that his shoulders are wider than I first realized, his arms muscular and strong. His jeans look like they were made for him– and his tight butt. That's not his best parts–even though they're pretty damn good. That would be his hazel eyes with amber slivers speckled through them and his kind smile.
Then there's his kindness. And patience. He listened to me ramble and talk his ear off yesterday and let me drag him around the store making suggestions about couches and decor and 'vibes.'
Goodness, listen to me. I sound like I'm already smitten, and I don't even know the man. Maybe I should change that…
As if the universe can read my mind, I clock Will and one of his brothers walking toward the bar. The other man–one of the twins–bumps elbows with Will before pushing him forward.
"Hey, Will. Fancy seein' you here," I say, greeting him, trying hard to ignore the way my heart dances in my chest when he grins at me.
"Birdie…" He leans against the bar and looks around. "You work here, or do you wait to help patrons pick their drinks?"
A slow-growing smile takes over my mouth, the corner tipping up. "Nah. Thought I'd sneak in and pour my own beer. Figured, what the hell, Eric won't mind." Will's eyes crinkle and his shoulders bounce with quiet laughter. Beside him, his brother stands back, his gaze bouncing between us with a knowing glint.
"I've done that before. Don't recommend it unless you want to be relocated by security and left standin' on the street without the beer you were pourin'. It wasn't like I wasn't goin’ to pay for it, I was just tryin' to help them out." The twin leans forward, offering his hand over the bar top. "Cayson Cooper, but everyone calls me Case. Good to meet you this time rather than just hear my brother's constant gushin'. It's been 'Birdie this' and 'Birdie that' ever since we left the furniture store yesterday. Please put us out of our misery and let the man buy you a drink."
"Case…" Will groans before shifting his apologetic yet amused gaze to mine. "I'm real sorry. Please ignore him. That's what we do."
"It's been days , Will. We've only all been back together for days . How is that enough time to ignore me?"
I giggle, my head dropping as I cover my mouth with my hand. Composing myself, I rest my elbows on the polished wood between us and give the men my full attention.
"Unfortunately, I am workin', and I can't let you pour your own beer, Case, but I can get your drinks for ya even if I will have to take a raincheck on that drink your brother wants you to buy me," I say to an amused Will.
The corner of his mouth twitches up. "Might have to hold you to that."
"Wouldn't have said it if I didn't want you to."
Will and I stare at each other, the same damn tingles start traveling up my legs the longer we stand there.
"Sheesh, people. Get a room already," Case teases, but I can tell he doesn't mean anything by it.
Right, what was I doing again… "So, drinks. What can I get you?"
"Round of beers for the table please," Case says, looking over his shoulder and doing a count. "Seven, if I didn't miss anyone."
I check his math before nodding and getting to work. Turning back to the drink fridge behind me, I bend over and feel a rush of head up my back. Unable to resist, I quickly glance in the reflection of the glass doors and catch Will watching me closely before tearing his eyes away. A gentleman but still a man. The perfect mix .
Another trip later and all seven beers are lined up on the bar in front of me. One by one, I slip my bar blade out of my pocket and flick the bottle tops off with practiced ease.
"This the first time y'all have been to the Lair?" I ask, filling the void while working my way through the bottles.
"Yep. Our friends Randy, Finn, and Remy from Eagle Mountain turned up on our doorstep this afternoon and told us they were takin' us out for a welcome-to-town drink," Will explains, waving over at his table.
Nodding, I finish by catching the last bottle cap in my fist, earning a sexy grin from the man in front of me. "That explains it. The Barnes family is almost like furniture here now. Many of them met their wives here, which almost makes them as much a part of the family as the staff."
"No wonder they dragged us along," Case replies. "This is their local, just a good hour away from home."
Will snorts. "Ain't no draggin' a Cooper to a bar where there's good food, good booze, and good company."
"Now you're just sweet talkin' me, Will," I tease, hoping the heat in my cheeks is well hidden by my makeup.
Case collects up five of the bottles and tips his chin up at me. "Nice to meet the woman who made Will go with a 'country bachelor/homestead' vibe. It's good, by the way. Nice choice. It suits the place and us well. Hope you get a good ol' discount next time you're in there because we bought out almost everythin' in stock that matched it."
I roll my lips to hide my laughter but fail the moment Will groans.
"Go away , Case. You're not helpin'," he mutters before glancing my way. "He's harmless, I swear. Just has a big mouth and thinks we all need his help."
"That's because you do need my help. Just like you needed Birdie's help yesterday. Now, you're standin' here doin' nothin' instead of jumpin' on that chance she just gave you for a 'rain check'. Do I have to do everythin ', William?" Case sounds exasperated so I decide—for the sake of keeping the peace between brothers—to put the matter to rest.
I turn to Will. "Would you like to take me out sometime for that rain check ? The diner at the end of Main Street, at the intersection with Restaurant Row, has great coffee and an even better Strawberry, Ginger, and Honey pie. That's if you want to, of course."
"Is the Pope Catholic," he blurts out.
I jerk back. "What?"
"Do chickens have lips?"
A startled snort escapes me this time. "Stop!" I say, laughing.
With a wicked grin, he keeps going. "Birdie, is the sky blue? Because the answer is yes, I would like to take you out for a great coffee and an even better pie–even if I'm not the biggest ginger fan."
My expression falls. "Wait. You don't like ginger ? I might have to retract my offer. I can't be friends with anyone that doesn't like ginger . What kind of monster are you?"
Will opens his mouth and shuts it again a good few times before he catches the smirk playing on my lips and narrows his eyes. "I think I'm goin' to need to keep my wits about me around you."
"Nah," I say, waving him off, and pushing the last two beer bottles toward him. "I find it's better to not worry about what could or should happen and just go with the flow." I shrug. "It works for me, anyway."
His intense hazel eyes watch me closely, making me shiver in the best possible way. "You might be right. My doctor would definitely agree with you." His doctor? "Anyway, I better get these back to the table. But I guess we have plans now."
"Yes, we do." I don't try to hide my goofy grin.
He turns to walk away but stops, spinning back toward me. "Seems I'm a bit rusty. Can I grab your number? Figure it might help."
"Oh yeah, sure," I rush out, quickly pulling my notepad out of my apron and scribbling down my cell before ripping it off and handing it over to him. This time I'm not startled when my skin burns hot the moment his fingers graze mine. I don't miss the catch in his breath or the flash in his eyes before he schools his expression. He shoots me a grin as he places the piece of paper in his top pocket.
"Have a good night, Birdie."
"You too, Will," I reply, watching him shamelessly as he turns his back and walks away.
That's not to say I don't spend the rest of the night sneaking glances his way, or that I don't catch him doing the same when he thinks I'm not watching.
But I do work with a smile on my face, and this time it has nothing to do with the bar and everything to do with a certain man in it.
Rain check. Best idea ever.