I stared at the message. What... the fuck?
I had deleted everything about her, but she apparently hadn’t trashed my number.
Fuck no. I didn’t want to talk. I swiped to delete the message and continued to the bar.
Inside, most of the tables were full after a couple of nights of being closed. Ruby was laughing with a couple of guys by the front windows. She glanced over and the smile that graced her face was all for me.
There had never been a time after the way Katrina had broken up with me when I had wished she’d call or text. I had trusted her and she’d tossed it all back in my face. She’d purposely humiliated me. All this message had done was make me glad that I wasn’t home alone painting my figures.
I had moved on. I hadn’t stayed in one place. And I liked where I was at. Maybe I even more than liked who I was with.
My chest constricted and I struggled to draw in a breath.
Taking it slow. Just like I’d told Teller. I wasn’t rushing Ruby. Most of all, I wasn’t rushing myself.
Ruby
Tenor drank me in like he was seeing me for the first time in months. It almost shredded my nerves. I had to talk with him about my parents.
“Let me know if I can get you anything else,” I said to the couple I’d been talking to.
I met Tenor in the middle of the bar by one of the few empty tables.
He stroked his gaze over my face, only this time, his eyes weren’t just full of heat. Tenderness lit the yellow flecks in his soft brown eyes. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.”
“Busy night. Need a hand?”
“I’ve got it all under control.”
“Well then.” A slow grin spread across his face. “I’m going to sit at the bar and see if the pretty bartender will go home with me tonight.”
Pleasure filled me. “Don’t get your hopes up. I heard she has a thing for nerds.”
He leaned close. “I have a thing for romance readers who like to act out scenes from their book.”
My cheeks grew hot and I glanced around. People were watching us, but they couldn’t hear. At least, I hoped they couldn’t. “Like the car scene?”
His gaze sharpened. “What car scene?”
“You’ll find out.” I bit my bottom lip and scurried away. When I peeked behind me, he was watching me through slitted eyes.
One of the delivery drivers walked in with his wife. He spotted Tenor. “Tenor! How’s it going?”
While Tenor was occupied, I busied myself behind the bar, mixing refills and new orders.
Tenor broke away from the new arrival and rounded the bar. He gestured to the four cocktails I was ready to deliver. “Want me to take these out or make a spiced old-fashioned and a huckleberry spritz?”
“I’ll get to mixing.” The locals loved talking to Tenor. I knew the feeling.
The couple I’d been talking to was in the latter crowd. They smiled and chatted with Tenor. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and slouched, as ever, trying to make the other party feel less intimidated. Instead of wanting to lord over others thanks to his size and authority, Tenor tried to diminish himself so others could shine.
He caught me looking at him and shot me a promising stare before returning his attention to the guests. Having him around made my already enjoyable shift better. For the next hour and a half, we worked together until the last customer left. Then we closed down the place.
“Whew,” I said, hanging the rag up. “That was a busy night.”
“Helps make up for the last two nights we were closed.” Tenor closed the tablet. He’d done all the books for me. It wasn’t my least favorite job, but I wouldn’t be applying for his position anytime soon.
