“Figured as much,” he comments, his hand shooting out, fingers wrapping around my wrist just as I reach for another piece of broken mug. His grip is tight, but not painful, and I look up at him with a frown. “Leave it.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine, I’ve got it,” I tell him, but when I try to move, he holds me tighter.
“It’s not fine,” he argues, gently pulling me to my feet. “Last thing I need is the server I just hired to slice her hand open and not be able to serve. Now, both of you, go dry off while I finish this.”
He finally releases me, but I can still feel his hold. It’s grounding, like an anchor—a strange feeling when that’s all I’ve ever been for others. It’s always me taking control. Always me cleaning up the mess.
“Brynn,” he growls, his tone causing this heat to swirl low in my stomach, and when I meet his eyes, I inhale a sharp breath. They’re dark and hooded, and when he dips his head toward the stairs, it feels like a command. One that I dare not oppose. “Go on.”
My mouth is dry, and I quickly nod, clearing my throat. “Yeah, okay, I’ll just be a minute.”
I hurry through into the loading area, heading for the stairs.
“He really likes you.”
I jump at the sound of Sarah’s voice. She’s standing off to the side, pulling on a fresh shirt with a smile.
I choke out a laugh. “I’m not sure about that,” I argue playfully. “He likes that I’m good at what I do.”
Her eyes blink rapidly and she shrugs. It seems casual, but there’s an undertone I can’t quite place. “Either way, you being here is going to make things interesting.”
I scrunch my nose up as she walks away, wondering what kind of small town drama I may have just stepped in.
And whether it’s too late to get the hell out of town.
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 7 - GRIZZ
Brynn and Sarah are like a well oiled machine as they move around the bar, serving the assortment of tourists looking for a hearty lunch. There are several eateries in Hallowed Springs, but none of them offer the simplicity of what we do. Cold weather means people want meat, carbs, and a good beer. A fact that no one else has seemed to figure out, but one that we got right immediately.
Season after season, we have a steady stream of customers from all walks of life, and not one of them has captured my attention like the sassy woman who threatened to flash a stranger knocking on her door.
Never mind that I desperately wanted that stranger to be me.
She laughed it off, but I didn't say anything because I couldn't. I was speechless over the idea of seeing a pair of tits, like I hadn't seen plenty of them before. All that kept repeating in my mind was I wonder if her nipples were the same blush pink color as her lips. If they were as soft as I imagined them to be when I thought about her in my bed last night.
The pencil in my hand creaks under my grip as I watch over the lunch crowd, images of silken skin and stolen kisses flashing through my mind until I can barely hear the hum of the bar.
“Are you smiling?” Jovie says, throwing a scrunched up napkin at my chest, trying to get my attention. I register the unnatural curve to my mouth, quickly fixing whatever is happening to my face.
“No,” I grunt.
“You so were. It's okay, I won't tell anyone.” She brings her fingers to her mouth, twisting them as if she's locking up the secret and throwing away the key. Her hair is a little tousled this morning, evidence of a good night's sleep, which makes my shoulders drop in relief. They had a good night in the apartment. Whatever they left behind didn't hurt them while I was away. “So, can you tell me a ghost story now?”
“I'll give you the option. The Winchester House or Krampus?” Searching the bar, Brynn is out on the floor serving a couple of meals. I had hoped she would have forgotten that part of our agreement, but apparently, she's smarter than I gave her credit for. “You think your mom will have an issue with it? I don’t want to give you nightmares or anything.”
I step around the end of the bar, standing next to where Jovie sits.
Her coloring book and pens laid out in front of her, the intricate tiger half completed. The lady at the book shop said it was popular with young adults, so I grabbed it, hoping it would entertain her while Brynn worked.
“Na, she knows I Google things I probably shouldn't, but I like hearing them told by?—”
“Well, hey there, handsome.” The nasal voice of a woman interrupts Jovie as she steps into me. Her hard tits press against my arm as she looks up, attempting to flutter her eyelashes.
At least that's what I think she's trying to do.
They are so thick that it better resembles a furry slug, and I'm struggling to see how she can even open her eyelids with that much weight on them. Every part of her body that is pressed against mine feels like stinging nettle. Unnatural and uncomfortable. My lip pulls, and I snarl at the unwanted touch. Whoever this bimbo is, she’s not getting the hint as she giggles and moves a hand to my chest. “Mmmm, I like a bad boy.”
