Chapter Two
Ryder blinked awake, rolling over and groaning a little as his muscles complained. He leaned over until he found the blue numbers on the alarm clock: 4:30 PM. Not surprising at all; it was about the time he usually woke on Saturdays. He ran through the shower before he lost the hot water, then decided to go out for a bite to eat. Stepping into his favorite diner, he picked up the daily paper at the door to read as he ate.
In a good mood after a decent burger, Ryder headed to work on foot. Abbott was small enough that he rarely needed to use his car. He turned right out of the diner, passing a laundromat and a liquor store before turning at the corner and crossing the street. Occasionally, on a beautiful day out of the blue, he’d think of his parents dying in a car accident when a drunk driver crossed the double yellow lines. Ryder was only sixteen and had to grow up fast, spending two years in a foster home before he moved to Abbott, finding the internship at Carter’s and making friends with Cooper. Between work and sleep, he’d begun to feel as if he was living his life on the wrong side of fogged glass. There must be more for him to find, but it just wasn’t coming into focus. When Cooper pushed him into performing at the bar, it cleared up most of the fog so he could finally see a glimpse of what he was meant to do with his future.
Reaching Carter’s, he went in through the back and spotted Milo.
"Hey, Ryder! Did you get the number of that hottie you were serving last night? She must be loaded, and gorgeous, too." Milo winked at him, and Ryder snorted.
"Nope. You closed out her tab; I never even caught her name. She went home with some guy she picked up."
Milo shook his head. "What a shame. Maybe she could've persuaded you to do something besides sleep."
Ryder grinned, knowing Milo meant well. "Not likely."
Ryder had to perform after a few hours of tending the bar, but he couldn't stop thinking of the brunette. She'd been a tad rude, dropped plenty of hints about her wealth, and then after almost two bottles of Ketel One, she was flirty and seemed to have a lot of fun with pretty much everyone. Ryder didn't want or need to be thinking about a woman, especially not that particular woman, but she seemed to be stuck in the front of his brain.
So when the doors opened, he hoped he'd see her again, and also hoped he wouldn't. He didn't get involved with women. He had a plan, and he was sticking with it.
Damn. There she was, and she made a beeline for Ryder even as Milo joined him behind the bar.
Milo was quick to greet her. "Morgan, right? Welcome back!"
So that was her name. He would rather cut off his own tongue than ask, but now he knew.Morgan. It seemed to roll languorously in his brain, the way he assumed she would in his bed.His bed?
Dammit, Ryder. Enough.
He forced himself to move away from her, to allow Milo to set up her tab and serve her the six shots of vodka. He wasn't sure if he should be impressed or scared for her liver. He spent the evening avoiding her and serving others, then moved to the stage to get lost in the music. Shea and Cooper had joined them to cover the bar while Ryder performed; Morgan spent the evening dancing and flirting with every guy under the age of seventy until it neared closing and there was one guy left. It was Ryder's observation that late on a Saturday night, technically Sunday morning, only the hardcore drunks stuck around until closing time. Unfortunately for Morgan, the last straggler was a mean drunk.
Cooper and Milo edged closer as the man started yelling at Morgan. He was loudly telling her she would be lucky if he bothered to take her home, that she was ugly, useless, and a whore. She told him to shut his fucking mouth, that there was no way she was going home with his sorry ass even if he begged. When he grabbed her arm roughly and tried to drag her to the door, Milo stepped up and grabbed the man by his collar.
"All right! Hands off the lady." Milo released his shirt and folded his arms across his chest. "Time to go, asshole." Though Milo was mostly quiet and polite, he was once a member of the local Bandidos MC and could fuck a man up if need be.
Mean Drunk wasn't going to leave without a fuss, of course. Ryder edged closer to the scuffle, even though he knew Milo could handle the guy, and that Cooper had his back.
"No way, man! She promised me she'd come home with me! She needs to pay up." He pulled on Morgan’s arm, so Milo pulled on his. Mean Drunk tightened his grip, and Morgan yelped. She’d planted her feet, leaning away from him as he tried to pull her toward the door. Her other hand was on top of his, trying to claw it off.
Milo pulled harder, but Mean Drunk wasn't letting up. Morgan looked desperate, but it was clear she was hammered. She stumbled in her struggles, and it looked as though she'd soon hit the floor. Ryder reached out and hooked his hands under her arms, stopping her from falling on her head. It also caused Mean Drunk to lose his hold.
Shea stood near the bar, her hand on the phone. Her face was flushed, most likely recalling the way her ex treated her before she left him. Milo had saved the woman from the same fate. If there was one thing he never tolerated, it was bullies.
"Leave and stay gone, or I'll call the cops." Milo slammed the door and locked it, then turned to Ryder as he helped a swaying Morgan stand upright. "Do you need help?"
Ryder pondered what to do. She needed help home, clearly. He could call a cab, except he didn't know where to send the cab. If she was visiting, chances were she was staying at the B&B, but there was no way to know that. "If you could grab my keys and her credit card, I'll get her to the bed-and-breakfast."
"Sure thing." Milo collected the items Shea held out for him.
Once Ryder had his keys in hand and slipped her card in her pocket, he stepped out the front door. He didn't see anybody waiting for her, or any cars left in the front lot. Since he’d walked himself earlier in the day, he started down the block with Morgan stumbling along at his side. He considered turning back to ask Milo for help, but he and Shea had ridden his motorcycle to work.
"Morgan. What’s your address? Morgan? Are you staying here in town?"
The only thing she offered him was a bleary smile as her eyes slipped closed and she slumped against him. It would be a very long and interesting night.
