Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
shay
I should’ve gone home, crawled back into bed with a pint of mint chocolate chip, and binged the first TV series that popped up.
The bloat would’ve been better than the hellish day I’ve had to endure.
It started with me pushing the button on the coffee pot but forgetting that a cup is needed to catch the scalding brew pouring from the spout.
I really should’ve known better than to be optimistic because it was only downhill from there.
Life is a fickle bitch, just waiting around the corner with a bucket of ice water to splash in your face when you get a little too comfortable.
I shouldn’t even be surprised at this point.
Between the council review, Sally’s invite to a dirty book club, and the run-in with Memphis that left me shaken and stirred, haven’t I already suffered enough?
Guess not, because now I’m running an entire bar by myself.
Luke’s sick, and Ty called in saying his grandma’s sister’s chicken died and they had to hold a service.
Apparently, that service was being held in the backseat of Janet Johnson’s car two blocks away from the Slick if rumors are to be believed.
And to think the council had the nerve to tell me they weren’t sure an Omega could run a bar on her own. Looks to me like some of the men in this town need a swift kick to their balls to remind them just how much tougher a vagina is.
I have no doubts that Luke would endorse me.
Hell, maybe he already has, considering how badly he wants out.
And sure, the logical part of me gets it.
You don’t just hand over your most historical buildings to some relative newbie who could potentially run them into the dirt.
There’s a process in place for a reason.
But the other part, the part that knows how hard I’ve worked and what I’m capable of, is just… sigh…frustrated.
“Holy fuck, sweetheart, what’s happening in here tonight?”
Ridge’s shocked face appears in front of me, staring at the larger-than-usual crowd and serious lack of help.
I barely have a second to pause as someone calls out for a beer, one of the tables shouts for another round, and I’m down to the last swig of whiskey in the bottle with no extra hands to restock.
“The gods have deemed it necessary to test every ounce of strength I possess. Either that, or Satan’s finally come to bring me home, cuz this is literally Hell on Earth.”
The gruff chuckle beside him draws my attention to the large man taking up space on the other side of the bar.
I’ve seen August Young around town—even on the very bar stool he’s currently occupying—on more than one occasion.
I’d be lyin’ if I said I never noticed the way his muscles flex beneath his black tanks or the tatted skin that makes me itch to run my tongue over his body to see just where all those dark lines lead.
His brown hair is buzzed short, which leaves nothing to distract me from his way-too-pretty eyes rimmed with the lushest lashes I’ve ever seen.
He arrived in Darling on a motorcycle that, I’ll admit, I’m a little envious of.
The sagebrush green and black Indian Scout, with its brown leather seat, is a rider’s dream.
I’m not sure why he relocated here. Was it to pack up with his cousin, or was he running from something like I was?
What I do know is that the man’s confidence is entirely too sexy, and his cocky demeanor is only softened by the genuineness that radiates from him.
Sure, he scopes out my tits, but he also doesn’t pretend he’s not doing exactly that.
But he’s an Alpha—one that smells of mulled wine with heavy cinnamon and citrus notes—and unfortunately for him, his designation is the biggest strike against him.
“Where the hell is Luke?” Ridge practically growls.
“Out sick, and if you’re looking for Ty, check a couple blocks down for the blue sedan with the windows all fogged up.”
“Are you fucking kidding?” August throws his veiny forearms that are not at all droolworthy onto the bartop, a disgusted look plastered on his face. “Why does Luke even put up with his shit? Kid is never here.”
“It’s his neighbor’s sister’s kid, or some bullshit. I don’t even fucking know, but the second it’s up to me, his ass is out.”
He nods, and that slight hint of approval does weird shit to my chest that I’m choosing to ignore.
“Shit. I told Memphis I’d run through the books with him tonight. Maybe I should call him and see if that can hold ‘til tomorrow so I can—”
Shaking my head, I slide a bottle down the bar to Jamison, then start preparing another round for table three. “I’m good, Ridge. Don’t worry about it. You don’t always need to play the hero.”
“Fuck, Shay.” He sounds so defeated, I actually feel a little sorry for him.
With two whiskeys, a beer, and a vodka cran loaded on a tray, I lift it onto my hand just as another regular a few stools down calls out for another Jack and Coke.
“Give me two seconds, Dylan.”
“No problem, Runaway Shay,” the asshole snarks.
I’ve been hearing it all night. One of those assholes on the council spilled private details about my past, and it’s taking everything in me not to chuck the entire tray at Dylan’s huge forehead.
It’s times like this when I actually find myself missing Old Man Morris because he’d hand Dylan his ass without question.
“Let me help.” August’s deep voice settles between us, and for some dumb reason I suddenly feel like I’m drowning. In him. His scent. The whole damn situation.
The added hints of spice filtering through the bar haze hit me square in the chest as he stares down the jackass that’s starting to look a little bit pale.
“No, it’s fine. Ignore him. I’ll—”
“Shay, let Auggie help. ‘Bout time the dude does something other than hit the weights twelve hours a day anyways.”
I move to the end of the bar, ignoring the suggestion, because no way in hell will I be trapped here all night with an Alpha who makes Miles look as dangerous as a chihuahua in a bowtie.
Sure, those little fuckers are loud and obnoxious, but their tiny nips aren’t lethal.
August is more like a Great Dane or a Rottweiler that holds a much significant threat of damage.
The second I round the corner, August steps into my path, making it impossible to move past him.
My eyes scan up from his massive chest with its tats peeking out from the collar of his tank, to the scruff just barely covering his chin.
One brow is raised in challenge, and like an idiot, my contrary nature has me straightening my spine to prove he doesn’t intimidate me a bit.
Of course, my panties tell a very different story, but I’m hoping the smell of saw dust and sweat is enough to cover the way my perfume has chosen to leak out around us.
“Hand over the tray, firecracker. Don’t make this awkward.”
Ridge appears beside him, all smiles. It makes me want to punch the dimples right off his perfect face.
“Let him help, sweetheart. I’ll feel better knowing you’re not dealing with this shit show on your own. Otherwise, I’m calling Memphis, and then you’ll have to deal with Auggie, me, and knowing the guys, the rest of our pack as well.”
I consider my options for all of five seconds before heaving a disgruntled sigh that probably sounds more like a groan. I really am exhausted.
“Fine. He can help.” Looking straight into August’s eyes, I refuse to cower under the weight of his stare. “But you do exactly as I say, no questions asked, and if shit slows down, I expect you to hightail your ass out of here. Understood?"
His eyes flash like he wants to say something more, but he simply says, “Yes, ma’am.”
Swallowing down a growl at the condescension in his tone, I slip the tray into his waiting hand. “Table three over by the jukebox.”
August maneuvers his way through the crowd with ease, considering he towers over most of the people in here, efficiently delivers the drinks, and heads back with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Did that meet your standards?”
With a laugh, Ridge tugs me into his chest and drops a chaste kiss on the top of my head like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s over just as quickly, but I’m holding my breath the entire time because that simple touch made my body come alive in ways it hasn’t done in years.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t forget we’re grabbing lunch before your shift, then we’ll come here and take some photos for the saloon’s social media.”
He playfully punches August’s shoulder, then heads for the door.
Without even seeing him move, August is suddenly leaning into my space, his lips way too close to my ear. “Breathe, firecracker.”
Embarrassingly, I gasp as I inhale the air I’d forgotten was a necessity.
What in the ever-loving hell is happening to me?
Yeah, this is not the smartest decision I’ve ever made, but nothing can be done about it now. Pushing my shoulders back, I ignore him and head behind the bar with the Alpha hot on my heels.
“While I catch up on drink orders, survey the bottles so you can run and grab replacements for anything that’s close to being empty. You’ll find the stockroom through those swinging doors. Extras can be stored in the cabinet below. Apparently, Ty didn’t even do that last night before he closed.”
“You got it, boss.”
My eyes narrow at him, but he’s already busy doing exactly what I asked. The next couple of hours pass by in a blur. The most shocking part? The few times I caught his eyes dipping to my cleavage, I didn’t feel the need to skewer him with the knife I was using to cut up more limes.