Chapter Twenty-Seven
Brandee
W hen I arrived in North Carolina for what I thought would be a couple of months of quiet, boring reflection, if someone had told me that I would end up getting buzzed on tequila shooters with five women in a rowdy country music bar just two weeks later, I would have laughed.
But here I am.
Tipsy. Sweaty. Grinning from ear to ear.
Whiskey Joe’s is packed tonight, warm with bodies, beer, and the twangy guitar riffs that vibrate in my rib cage.
The entire crew is here—Lennon and Amiya, Sebastian and Avie, Wade and Eden, Parker and Audrey, Anson and Tabby—and they’ve all welcomed me into their circle like I’ve always been one of them.
Especially Audrey, whom, along with Tabby, I just met today. She and Brew are extremely close; apparently, they’ve worked together for over a decade, so I guess my theory that he was bartending temporarily to earn extra cash was off the mark.
“Here you go,” Audrey says, handing me a lime wedge and another shot glass filled with clear liquid.
“Bottoms up!” Amiya shouts above the music, and we all take the shot.
I like them. I really like them.
It’s strange though. I’ve only known Brew for a couple of weeks, but somehow, I’ve fallen into his world. It just kinda happened—fast and effortless.
I’m definitely feeling the tequila.
Audrey loops her arm through mine as we wait for another round. “You’re holding your own, Brandee. You might be the only person I’ve seen keep up with Amiya and not need resuscitation.”
“You haven’t met any of my friends yet,” I say.
Yet? It slips out so easily, like we’re going to be in each other’s lives forever.
Amiya lifts her shot glass with a wicked grin. “She’s got that Southern-girl grit. I respect it.”
We all burst out laughing. I swipe lime juice from the corners of my mouth and glance across the bar instinctively, searching for Brew.
And there he is.
Leaning against the bar in a tight black T-shirt, loose flannel, dark jeans, and that ever-present smirk that’s half trouble, half promise. He’s talking to a bartender, probably putting in some kind of order, but then the bartender nods and says something that catches my attention.
“Got it, boss.”
I blink.
Boss?
I watch the bartender walk off to speak to a guy who is standing on the other side of the bar. His angry eyes shoot to Brew, who just rubs the back of his neck.
That’s … weird.
I glance toward the entrance just in time to see a bouncer nod at Brew, and then the bouncer walks over and stands at the wall behind the guy.
Okay. What the hell?
I turn to Audrey, who’s closest. “Hey, why did that bartender call Brew boss?”
She freezes, just slightly. Her smile doesn’t drop, but there’s a micro-shift. Her eyes dart to Brew, then back to me.
“Oh, it’s just … you know, bar slang,” she says, waving it off. “Like how some people call the guy in charge Chief or whatever. It’s nothing.”
“The guy in charge?”
“Well, he’s been around forever,” she continues. “Knows the place inside and out. The staff just … respects his seniority.”
“Oh,” I mutter.
Before I can press her, I feel a hand slide around my waist.
“Dance with me,” Brew murmurs against my ear, his voice low and sweet.
I don’t have time to answer.
He tugs me toward the dance floor, weaving through the crowd until we’re swallowed by the music. A slow, sexy song has just started—something smoky and low—and his hands find my hips, guiding me.
“Hi,” I say. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you since we got here.”
The party started at Sebastian and Avie’s house with food and a cake. But once the champagne started flowing, the girls were determined to come out dancing to celebrate the happy couple.
His lips brush my temple. “I get distracted when I’m here. It’s hard to relax.”
At least he’s honest about that.
The beat hums beneath our feet, steady and deliberate, and Brew presses closer. His chest against mine. His hand splayed low on my back, fingers flexing like he can’t get close enough. The crowd fades into a blur of movement as our bodies sway together like we’ve done this a hundred times before.
He dips his head, lips grazing my ear. “Are you having a good time?”
I tilt my face to his. “I am. Your friends are great. They make me miss my crowd back home.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “You homesick?”
“Maybe a little, but I’m not in a hurry to leave.”
His smile is slow. Dangerous. “Good, because I’m not ready for you to go just yet.”
Just yet.
I shake off the stab of disappointment that rolls through me at the words.
“I didn’t realize you’d worked here so long. I thought it was something temporary.”
He hesitates, but just for a beat. “I never said that.”
I open my mouth, ready to press again, but he spins me, and when I land back in his arms, my laugh escapes before I can fight it.
“Show-off,” I murmur.
We fall back into the rhythm, and this time, he doesn’t hold back. His hands are everywhere—touching, teasing, claiming. One brushes under my sweater, warm fingers against bare skin. The other traces the curve of my spine.
The crowd fades around us as he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room.
“You’re trouble, Sexy Bartender,” I whisper.
“And you like it, Barfly.”
God help me, I do.
By the time the song ends, I’ve almost forgotten about the earlier scene.
Almost.
He leans in again, lips grazing the shell of my ear. “Let’s get some air.”
I nod and let him lead me toward the back exit that opens to the private patio behind the bar. It’s peaceful out, the night cool and damp, and I take in a lungful of fresh air as I lean against the railing.
“It’s quiet out here. We’re all alone,” I say as he prowls toward me.
“That was the plan,” he says as he slips a hand around to my back and pulls me into him.
The words linger between us, but neither of us speaks as he dips down and kisses my skin where my sweater slides off my shoulder. His mouth begins a slow glide up my throat. But before his lips reach mine, the door swings open behind him, and Lennon pokes his head out.
“Yo, Brew. Seb’s got a situation up front. You might wanna handle it.”
Brew swears under his breath. “I’ll be right back,” he says, brushing a kiss to my temple. “Don’t move.”
I watch him disappear inside, my heart thumping harder than it should.
Because something isn’t adding up.
I can feel it.
And no amount of dancing or soft kisses is going to keep that feeling from sinking deeper.
Instead of waiting for him to return, I decide to follow them inside.
I see Sebastian engaged in a heated argument with the guy Brew was eyeing earlier.
Sebastian throws a punch, and blood flies from the guy’s mouth.
When the guy recovers, he charges at Sebastian and headbutts him.
Sebastian grabs a fistful of the guy’s hair and yanks him back before rearing back and striking him again.
Brew steps in between them, and Lennon wraps his arms around Sebastian, pulling him away.
The guy swings at Brew, but Brew deflects the punch and quickly puts him in a headlock.
Suddenly, the bouncer from earlier bursts through the entrance.
“That was your last chance. You’re permanently banned,” Brew yells as he shoves the guy toward the bouncer.
“Fuck you, Brew. And your grandfather. You think you’re so much better than everyone else!” the guy screams, as the bouncer drags him to the door.
Brew and Audrey exchange a look before he stomps off down a hallway beside the bar and she follows after him.
I make my way over to Tabby and Eden as Amiya and Avie rush over to Lennon and Sebastian.
“What was that about?” I ask.
“Some drunk asshole got handsy with Avie,” Tabby says.
“Really?”
Eden nods. “Lennon, Sebastian, Parker, and Anson had gone upstairs to play a game of pool. We were all dancing when he approached her from behind on the dance floor. She kept trying to move away, but he became aggressive. Wade had gone to the restroom, so I ran upstairs to find Sebastian.”
“Apparently, he’s been a problem before because Audrey went ballistic,” Tabby says.
“Where did she go?” I ask.
“I think they’re in Brew’s office,” Eden says as she spots Wade. “I’ll be right back.”
“Brew’s office?” I repeat.
Tabby looks at me with wide eyes. “I think she meant Audrey’s office. It’s down that hallway. She runs this place.”
“She does?”
“Yeah, she’s the general manager,” Tabby replies.
Anson joins us while Parker goes in search of Audrey and Brew. Tabby, Anson, and I take a seat at our table as we watch Avie fuss over Sebastian, who is holding a bag of ice on his left eye.
“Well, this evening took a turn real quick,” Anson says as he looks at us. “You two want another drink?”
I shake my head. “I think I’m done.”
“Me too,” Tabby agrees.