“Knew she would,” I said before thinkin’.
Ruby arched a brow. “Knew, huh? Mighty sure for a man who don’t know her that well.”
“Got an eye for people.”
“Mmhmm.” She smirked and wandered off, hummin’.
Lark passed by with an empty tray, the faintest sheen of sweat catchin’ on her temple. Her hands tightened on the edge for a second—burn scars flexin’ in the light—and then she loosened, breath even again.
“Bar’s probably louder than you expected,” I said as she set the tray down.
“I don’t mind,” she replied. “Noise means life. Quiet’s what you watch for.”
That made me look up. “That from experience?”
“Everything I say is from experience.” Her mouth curved into a big smile before she walked off again.
Damn.
Tried to focus on inventory, but the numbers swam. Every time she crossed the floor my eyes followed. Not ‘cause she needed watchin’, but because somethin’ in me wouldn’t let her out of my sight.
When Ruby finally sent her on break, Lark slid into an empty booth near the window, sippin’ water and lookin’ out at the street like freedom was somethin’ she still couldn’t quite believe she had.
I leaned on the bar, wipin’ down a glass that didn’t need it, and wondered what the hell I thought I was doin’. I was Chain,for fuck’s sake. I knew how to handle a woman. But there I was, feelin’ like some green-ass kid seein’ a crush walk through the damn door.
I set the clean glass down and pushed off the bar.
Time to stop starin’ from across the room.
Time to go to her.
***
I PUSHED OFFthe bar and headed her way, slow, casual, but not foolin’ anybody. Gatsby let out a low groan under his breath, “Here we fuckin’ go,” but I didn’t bother lookin’ at him.
I’d been watchin’ her all damn day.
Lark sat in the corner booth near the window, fingers wrapped around her water glass like she needed the chill. Sunlight slid through the glass behind her, catching in her hair, turning it pale gold. Not loud, not showy, just the kind of pretty a man felt before he admitted he’d been lookin’.
She felt me comin’ before she turned. Her hand stilled on the glass, chin lifting, sure as ever. Calm. Guarded. Already bracing.
“You survivin’ your first shift?” I asked.
Her lips curved. “Barely. But I’m still standing.”
“Standin’ is more than half my staff manages on day one.” I leaned in just enough she had to decide whether to pull back. She didn’t. “You didn’t cry, you didn’t scream, and you didn’t quit. Around here, that makes you damn near exceptional.”
She huffed. “That’s a depressing standard.”
“Sets you up to shine.”
Her eyes flicked over my face, quick but not quick enough. “Are you watching me shine?”
“Watchin’?” I let a smile tilt slow, deliberate. “Darlin’, I’d have to be blind not to.”
She didn’t look away, but somethin’ flickered in her eyes like she regretted asking. “You making sure I don’t quit?”
“Makin’ sure you don’t stab Roxanne with a butter knife.” I lowered my voice. “And makin’ sure you stick around long enough to see this place ain’t half bad.”
