Chapter 26 Snow Day #2
“Oh!” Heidi looked up from the screen. “Someone’s posted in the community Facebook group saying Oscar’s Tavern is open, although with limited staff. Want to go down and have another crack at shuffleboard?”
Morgan put down her phone. “Sure. It beats worrying what the Dow Jones will reopen at.”
“No rest for the wicked financial advisor.” She got up and went across to feel her boots. “Nearly dry. I’m one change of socks away from toasty warm.”
It seemed the Facebook post had reached many people.
At Oscar’s, Heidi pushed open the door and sidled inside.
The tavern was buzzing. People waited three deep around the bar, and there were a dozen names on the list for the pool table and for shuffleboard.
On the daily specials chalkboard was written, Please be patient.
We’re going as fast as we can! Today’s menu is chicken wings. No, there’s nothing else. Don’t ask.
Heidi nodded. “I like it. Everywhere else is closed, and here they’re making a feature out of understaffing and a limited menu. I’ll get the drinks. Do you want to see if there’s a table, or at least a shelf to lean against?”
Morgan nodded and disappeared into the crowd.
Most of ten minutes later, Heidi managed to get the drinks, then pushed her way through the crowd in search of Morgan. She found her in a corner near the pool table, sitting on the only chair.
She slid off as Heidi approached. “This is it. We can take turns sitting.”
Heidi pushed across the glass of house red. “They’re doing simple behind the bar. No mixed drinks. Bottled beer and house wine only.”
“Works for me.” Morgan took a sip of the red.
Heidi shrugged out of her jacket and leaned forward so she could talk without shouting in the noisy bar.
With a jolt, she saw Morgan, too, had removed her jacket.
She must have changed her shirt before leaving the house.
Heidi would have remembered if Morgan had been wearing a silver-gray top that almost matched her eyes.
She’d certainly have remembered something with a scoop neckline that skimmed the top of Morgan’s breasts, that seemed loose enough that if she leaned forward, Heidi would be able to see down her bra.
She resisted the temptation to beckon Morgan closer.
“The bartender is going nuts—he can’t keep up. They’ve got a list behind the bar. If you put your name down to do thirty minutes behind the bar, you get a free drink. I’ve put both of us down.”
“That’s not legal!” Morgan’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline. “You need to be officially hired, you need—”
“Cool your jets. They’re not ‘officially’ open today. This is Denver’s biggest private party, so it’s okay. Not many people are volunteering, and I thought it could be fun.”
“Maybe,” Morgan said. “Or it could be a nightmare of drunk people and stolen credit cards.”
“Are you always this cynical?” Heidi tapped Morgan’s hand. “It’ll be happy chaos. You’ll meet people—”
“Drunk people.”
“Does anyone here actually look drunk? If you need to cut anyone off, I’m sure Franco—the actual bartender—will handle it. At least you don’t have to cook chicken wings—apparently, one of the regular servers is handling that.”
Heidi looked at her watch. “We’ve got another forty-five minutes before we’re on. We can watch the pool, talk about our road trip next week, or ask a stranger to nominate a topic for us.”
Morgan rolled her eyes. “That wouldn’t end well. What if the stranger suggested best sex you’ve ever had? And you had to answer it in front of them?”
“Damn. That was my next question. Morgan, what’s the best s—”
Morgan nudged her so hard, her wine slopped out of the glass. “Not funny.”
“You didn’t let me finish. What’s the best snowball fight you’ve ever had?” Heidi bumped shoulders with Morgan. “Gotcha.”
“Easy. About two hours ago, and you were there.”
“I was, wasn’t I? Best snowball fight for me too. Although that’s the only one I’ve ever had. There’s no snow in Cairns—it’s the tropics. To think I’m now living in Colorado!”
Morgan’s eyes crinkled, and white even teeth briefly gripped her lower lip.
Damn. I wish she’d stop doing that. An image of Morgan gently biting Heidi’s lower lip, or—her breath hitched—her nipple consumed her. Her inner thigh. Marking her as her own.
And then Morgan’s tongue darted out and swiped a drop of red wine from the edge of her mouth.
Oh my freaking God, I’m going to lose it. It had to be the proximity—living together—being stuck with each other over the holiday in the snow. Doing things in the friend zone. But Morgan was now camped out in her head and didn’t seem inclined to leave.
“I’m going to the restroom.” She turned and pushed her way through the crowd.
Inside, she peed, then washed her hands and splashed cold water on her face.
She stared at herself in the mirror. Same old Heidi.
She didn’t look different. Not like a woman in lust with her housemate.
Maybe her eyes glittered more than usual—that would be the wine.
Maybe she was flushed—it was hot in here.
She glanced at her phone. Not long until it was their turn behind the bar.
She’d hang out here for five and then return to Morgan.