CHAPTER ONE
I slide the freshly poured beer across the bar top. Amber liquid sloshes over the rim from the motion. The customer doesn’t fuss about me spilling his booze.
Hell, he’d probably lap the excess off the counter if I turned my back. Although the thirsty gleam in his eyes suggests that he might lick the mess off the glossy wood with me watching. The patrons at Roostersare classy as fuck like that.
He tosses me a crumpled bill to cover his tab. “Thanks, boss.”
I almost smirk at the title. “Be back with your change.”
The customer waves me off, reaching for his tall glass like the contents are liquid gold. “Keep it.”
Before I consider a response, the guy is suckling at his Surly and forgetting about me entirely. I turn away with a snort and scan the other regulars in my section at the rail.Full drinks and lopsided smiles greet me. With them satisfied, my gaze moves to Garrett and the performance he’s serving the Friday night crowd.
His reputation as the favorite bartender is on full display as he flips bottles in the air before dumping a variety of liquor in a shaker. The women seated in front of him applaud his efforts. They lean forward in a fluid motion to give him a peek down their shirts. Unfortunately for them, he doesn’t take the bait.
Garrett is completely devoted to his fiancée. Not that his lack of interest will discourage these chicks. If anything, they see the reformed playboy as a bigger challenge. This is proven when the brunette in the middle stretches to rest a palm on his forearm. He’s quick to evade her touch, scolding her with a wag from his index finger.
“Didn’t we talk about this earlier?”
The woman sticks out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “Um, I forget. Maybe you should tell me again.”
“Keep breaking my rules and you’ll have to deal with Ridge.” He hitches a thumb in my direction.
She doesn’t spare me a glance. “But I like your tattoos.”
“An even better reason to try your luck with him. He’s got more ink than me.”
Her eyes flick to where I’m standing behind the bar, several feet away from them. She frowns at my flat expression. “He doesn’t look very friendly.”
Garrett chuckles. “That’s because he’s not.”
The blonde in their pack isn’t shy about checking me out. Her stare penetrates deeper than an X-ray. “He’s sexy as fuck, though.”
My indifference cracks into a scowl. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
Garrett shifts sideways to block me from view and preserve their generous spending. Another wise choice. “Don’t mind the grouch. I didn’t hire him for his glowing personality.”
One of the girls scoffs. “Why did you then?”
“He’s just using me for money,” I mutter.
Which isn’t too far from the truth. It might’ve been Garrett’s grand plan to open this place, but he couldn’t do it alone. The best business decision he ever made was recruiting Drake and me as co-owners.
“You’re more than a bank account to me, big brute.” The guy I’ve known since freshman year of college tosses me a smirk.
“I suppose surrounding yourself with those you trust is a wise investment.” There aren’t many I can rely on more than Garrett and Drake.
“Quit playing. I couldn’t run this cock den without you.” He thrusts his arms wide and motions to what we’ve built over the last three years.
The ridiculous nickname our regulars gave Roosters threatens to make me smile. “It doesn’t hurt to be associated with King Crusher from the Trojans.”
The redhead chick sputters. “As in the condom brand?”
Garrett bends at the waist and cracks up. “Nah, as in the professional sports team.”
She joins in his humor, but her laughter lacks true depth. “You’re good friends, huh?”
It’s no surprise this stranger catches the natural comfort between us. She probably would’ve noticed even sooner if Drake was out on the floor with us. Our brotherhood formed when we met in college during freshman orientation. The bond didn’t break when I left campus after that first year to go pro.
These days, Knox Creek considers our trio a dream team. That’s more than likely due to us putting Garrett’s talents to good use.
“I only keep the best in my company.” He flashes a broad grin at his adoring fans. “What can I say? Ridge is a big shot. Most of the jerseys on the walls belong to him.”
The redhead’s eyes stray to our collection of framed history along with other sports memorabilia blended in. “Football, hockey, or baseball?”
“Hockey,” I grunt. The alternatives couldn’t handle me.
A pitchy gasp responds to that tasty tidbit. The blonde peeks out from behind the barrier my buddy attempted to create. She has a hungry gleam in her wide gaze. “Oh, you’re like really rich?”
“Fucking vultures,” I spit.
“Okay, Thor. Quit swinging your hammer. She was just asking a question.”
I feel my mouth twitch as Garrett attempts to soothe their ruffled feathers in that calm tone of his. It served him well on the football field and has a similar effect on this flock. If it were up to me, these ladies would already be halfway to Bent Pedal. Our competition just down the block will easily fulfill their needs if Casey and Adam are tending the bar. But chasing off customers isn’t a great look, even for me.
“We can play nice, right?” Garrett knows my answer, which is why he sends me a warning glare over his shoulder.
“Is that my cue?” Even if it’s not, I’m overdue for a reprieve.
Garrett shoos me away. “Yeah, yeah. Disappear into the shadows until you’re capable of peopling without mouthing off.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” I mutter while turning to the comfort a darkened corner will provide.
Conversations carry on as I make my retreat. One is louder—the speaker instantly identifiable—compared to the others. “Do you know of any available apartments in town?”
The inquiry is met with a giggle. “Already planning to flee your palace?”
A mulish snort responds. “As if. That man will never let me go.”
“Damn straight,” comes a grumbled reply.
Feminine coos fondle the unmistakable male’s ego. “Then what’s with the search?”
“Remember Callie?”
The mention of that very particular girl halts my progress while the exchange continues.
“Pssssh, duh. Love her,” the unrecognizable voice gushes.
“Same, which is why I’m asking around. She just found out her landlord defaulted on his property taxes. He’s been getting away with it for who knows how long and now his tenants have to pay the price. She has until the end of the month to find a new place to live.”
I’m striding toward Harper before she’s done speaking. “What about Callie?”
Our most recent hire startles at my abrupt interruption. She’s great at slinging drinks, but her side hustle of socializing gets tiring. Except when the chatter revolves around a certain brunette beauty.
“Well, hello there.” The bubbly bartender wiggles her fingers in my general direction.
“Tell me what’s happening with Callie,” I bark.
My reaction might be considered irrational, but that’s what Calliope Porter does to me. I’m damn near obsessed even though we’ve never exchanged more than eye contact. There’s something about her that’s seduced me into submission. The shy glances and timid smiles—no matter how rare—have me hooked on her. I’m claimed. Taken. Hers. I plan to give Callie whatever she desires. That list better include me, or I’m fucked. And not in the pleasurable sense.
Her best friend is aware of my infatuation—mostly due to the fact that I respond like this—and she doesn’t miss an opportunity to dangle the bait until I’m ready to pounce. It’s been months of torture. This moment is no exception.
Harper quirks her brow, her arms loosely crossed, as she pivots to face me. “You’re getting predictable, boss. I just have to say her name and you magically appear.”
A muscle in my clenched jaw lunges impatiently. “Spit it out.”
Instead, the sassy smartass flutters her lashes. “Didn’t you catch the gist while eavesdropping? It’s becoming a habit whenever my bestie is involved.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “If you don’t quit avoiding the subject, I’m gonna—”
“Better consider your next words to my wife,” Jake Evans drawls from his usual stool. The asshole is a regular at Roosters and a general pain in my ass. His protective streak for those he cares about is his only redeemable quality.
Harper blows him a noisy kiss. “Love you, Jerky Jacob.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I grind out.
Garrett tunes into my demise and begins cackling like this is a staged roast. Go fucking figure. “Ah, shit. Crusher is gonna do some damage if you don’t spill the beans, Harps.”
He isn’t wrong, especially with the audience our spat has attracted. I rub my neck to ease the growing tension. It’s a small miracle that Drake is nowhere to be seen. Two against one are odds I prefer to avoid.
“Okay, fine. I’ll put you out of your misery and ruin my fun.” She rolls her eyes, still stalling. “Callie is getting kicked out of her apartment thanks to that dumbass crook who calls himself a landlord.”
The strain between my shoulders multiplies. “When does she have to be out by?”
“Missed that part, hmm?” Her tone is too smug. “She has until the thirty-first to relocate.”
“That’s less than a week,” I mumble absently.
“Which doesn’t seem legal. She’s just expected to pack up and get gone,” Harper gripes.
“Has she found somewhere to go?”
“Not yet. She just got the news yesterday. I would’ve offered to let her reclaim my spare room, but that’s not an option since I surrendered my apartment to live in matrimonial bliss. Besides, she won’t share a house with a man. Callie prefers to have her own space.” Her shoulders lift in a defeated shrug.
Meanwhile, an idea is quickly forming. “How much is she paying now?”
“Five hundred, and the studio might as well be a shoebox. It barely fits her bed and dresser. Not sure how she’s survived there for over a year.”
My upper lip curls at Callie’s current living conditions, shoving this plan full-speed ahead. “The house attached to mine is available.”
Harper scoffs. “Like the other half of a duplex? She can’t afford that.”
“The rate is flexible. I’m willing to bet she can negotiate the price.”
Her hip cocks out as she leans against the sink. “And why is that?”
My gaze narrows in on a smudge. “It’s just sitting empty and collecting dust. Could she swing four hundred plus utilities?”
Her eyes bulge. “Is it a dump?”
“Do you think I’d live in a shithole?” I’m almost offended.
“No, but four hundred is crazy low.” She clucks her tongue. “As in too good to be true.”
“It’s rent-controlled,” I explain.
Her lips pucker tighter than a virginal asshole. “You just said the rate is flexible.”
“It is, but there’s a cap.”
“Set by your grandpa in the forties?”
A dull throb begins to pound at my temples. “Does it matter? Just have Callie come by and check out the place.”
Harper squints at me. “Do we need an appointment?”
“Nah, I’ll make sure it’s available whenever she’s ready.”
“Are you friends with the owner?”
“You could say that,” I hedge. Even if I wasn’t, this plan would sprout to fruition.
“Where was this magical property when I was renting?”
“Not an available option. You’re not neighbor material.” I grunt at the thought. “Behind the bar is as close quarters as I can manage, especially once Evans came back into the picture.”
She glances at her husband, who’s envisioning me as target practice, if the lethal intentions behind his glare are anything to go by. Harper’s laughter confirms my suspicion. “Touché.”
“So,” I drawl. “You’ll talk to her?”
“Yeah, yeah.” She waves off the brimming urgency in my voice and flings a towel over her shoulder. “When are you gonna do the honors yourself? I told you to go easy with her, but that seems like forever ago. It’s about time you break the ice, champ.”
“Soon. It will be easier when she’s next door,” I mumble.
Her eyebrows damn near leap to the ceiling. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” My scowl could beat Jake’s if agitated further.
“Uh-huh, I get it. You have ulterior motives.”
The clench in my gut is a warning I ignore. “Don’t tell her that.”
Harper smiles. The expression seems to reflect a scheme of her own. “Oh, trust me. Callie won’t mind.”