Music pumped through hidden speakers, the bass a low, unwavering throb under my feet.
Chain was already behind the bar with a clipboard, a dark shirt stretched under his cut, those tight blue jeans, expression calm but focused. He looked up as we walked in.
His gaze found me first—quick, assessing—something sparking there before he smoothed it away. The shift was small, but I felt it run straight down my spine. I tugged at the hem of my blue High Voltage t-shirt, suddenly aware of my bare legs in the shorts Lucy insisted I wear. I’d only worn long dresses for years. These felt… exposed.
But he didn’t look displeased.
“Mornin’,” Chain said in that slow and easy drawl. “Good to see Lucy didn’t kill you with her drivin’.”
Lucy grinned. “Told you I’d get her here alive. Why does everyone act like I’m reckless?”
Spinner snorted. “Because you are.”
Chain ignored them and motioned for me to follow. “Come on. I’ll give you the tour.”
The bar opened into a long stretch of warm wood and metal. Pool tables lined one wall, booths tucked into the back, staff moving around already, prepping, laughing, settling into the rhythm.
Chain walked with that quiet authority that seemed baked into his bones. “Kitchen’s through here,” he said with a nod. “Storage is off the hall. You clock in over there, and Ruby’ll walk you through rotation.”
He nodded toward a woman arranging condiments at the bar. She looked up and smiled—red hair braided, freckles dusting her nose.
“Hey, you must be Lark,” Ruby said, wiping her hands. “I’m your shadow buddy for the day. Don’t worry, we’ll get you through this alive.”
“Thanks,” I said, relieved by her ease.
Ruby leaned in close. “Stay out of Roxanne’s way. She thinks she owns the place. Or—y’know—the man who runs it.” She winked.
Her tone was playful, but the warning underneath had teeth.
I followed her gaze. Roxanne stood at the far end, sorting receipts, pretty in that deliberate way women like her always were. She lifted her eyes, landed them on me, and smiled without warmth.
“Hey,” she said smoothly. “Hope you don’t steal tips.”
Her gaze skimmed my body, pausing hard on the scar along my cheek—clinical, judgmental, dismissive.
“I don’t need the pennies,” I said before I could stop myself.
Ruby barked out a laugh. “You’ll fit right in.”
Chain had been listening, his expression still unreadable. “Don’t overstep, Rox.”
He didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t have to. Calm. Sure. Final. The kind of tone that warmed my skin in ways I was starting to like.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Roxanne said, her smile tightening with the lie.
The rest of the tour went fast, kitchen, supply room, exits, register. Chain talked me through everything in that sexy southern drawl of his, the kind that made it dangerously easy to listen. He didn’t rush, didn’t hover, just trusted me to keep up.
By the time we circled back to the front, Lucy, Spinner, and Oliver were lounging in a corner booth, Spinner’s arm slungaround her shoulders while she scrolled her phone with the ease of a woman who knew exactly where she belonged.
Lucy looked up. “Well? You alive?”
“Still breathing,” I said.
“See?” She lifted her glass. “Piece of cake.”
Chain passed behind me then, his hand brushing lightly against my shoulder. Barely a touch. Maybe accidental. But heat flickered beneath my skin all the same, my breath catching before I could control it.
He stopped beside me, close enough I felt the warmth of him. “You’ll do fine, Lark. Ruby’s one of the best. You’ll learn quick.”
