“Matty can eat me,” Roxy muttered, pulling a black jean jacket on her arms and slinging her purse over her shoulder. Double checking the door was locked on her way out, shepulled it closed and hustled to her car. Though sixty-five degrees could be considered warm weather up in the frozen tundra that Freeman had moved to, it was frigid for her warm-blooded bones, and she shivered. Damn Matty and his insistence that they wear shorts in place of full jeans. At least on busy weekend nights.
Adjusting the thermostat to turn the heat to high, she buckled, then backed out of the driveway. Placing her phone in the cupholder, still on speaker, she mumbled, “I’m on my way, don’t get your bedazzled panties in a twist.”
“Excuse you, my panties are not bedazzled,” Natalie protested, and she laughed. “My shorts are, but not my fucking underwear, you psycho. God, can you imagine one of those falling off and getting stuck all up in—”
“You’re so fucking weird,” Roxy laughed, cutting Natalie off. “I’ll see you in a few.”
Ending the call, she turned the radio up as she made the short ten-minute drive to work. Pulling in, she spotted a dark head of hair walking toward the front door of the bar and froze, her heart rocketing in her chest. The man turned and she sighed, swallowing hard.
It’s not him. You’re fine.
Parking, she clambered out of the car and raced across the parking lot, unlocking the employee entrance with her key and hurrying inside. Tossing her things into her locker, she stripped the leather jacket down her arms and shoved it in, not even bothering to hang it on the hook.
Skidding to a halt at the computer, she punched in just in time, then looked at Natalie, who was grinning and shaking her blonde head. Roxy headed toward the bar, where she would be tending all evening and called over her shoulder, “Let’s go, girl.”
Seven
“Ohmygod,” Natalie groaned as she sank down onto a barstool at the end of the night. “Remind me to throw these boots away.”
Roxy made a face of commiseration. “I thought these were comfortable?”
“Nothing is comfortable when you’re hauling ass for nine hours straight, especially anything with a heel.”
Spreading the cash tips she’d made out with her fingers like a fan, Roxy bobbled her eyebrows at Natalie. “But it’s so worth it…”
“Not if I have to replace my damn feet by the time I’m done working,” Natalie complained, though she was grinning. Then she groaned again. “We have kickboxing with Travis tomorrow. I’m going to die. My legs are going to fall off.”
“You’re so dramatic,” Roxy mumbled, rolling her eyes. “C’mon. I wanna go home.”
It had been a busy night, busier than usual, which meant they were late getting their closing duties done. They ran with two bartenders at each of the two bars in the building, along with a dozen servers for weekends. It had been a hectic evening, and Roxy knew as soon as she stopped moving her thighs would startto ache, along with the arches of her feet. Epsom salt baths were her savior most nights.
The bouncers escorted them out—Matty may have been a hard ass but the safety of his employees was always top priority, something Roxy had admired about the guy—and they said good night as Roxy, Natalie, and several other employees headed out to their vehicles in the dark parking lot.
“See you tomorrow in Hell,” Natalie called over to her before sliding into her car, parked several spots down from Roxy. Roxy waved, then climbed into her Toyota 4Runner, immediately turning the heat up.
The drive home was quiet, at three am the roads between Fort Worth and Melody Hills were mostly deserted. Climbing out of her car, she groaned, her legs screaming in protest. She quickly walked to the front door, unlocking it and slipping inside, before relocking it.
Walking into the kitchen, she took a wine glass down and opened the fridge, pulling out the bottle of Reisling and pouring a hefty glass. She carried it with her to the bathroom, setting it down on the rim of the bathtub before turning the water on. The tub began to fill, steam rising from the hot water, and she ladled a large scoop of citrus scented Epsom salt into the water, along with a dash of bubble bath.
Stepping into the bedroom, Roxy stripped, piling her boots in the closet and tossing the jean shorts and black shirt haphazardly on the foot of the bed, along with her bra and underwear. Picking up her Bluetooth earbuds, she padded back into the bathroom. Lighting several candles throughout the room before turning off the overhead light, she then climbed into the now nearly full bathtub. Sinking into the hot water, she sighed and stretched her legs all the way to her toes several times beneath the water, loosening the sore muscles.
Swiping through her phone, she queued up her audiobook app and pressed play. Setting the phone back on the edge of the tub, she took a swallow of her wine before settling her back against the sloped edge, resting her head on the bath pillow Natalie had gifted her for Christmas last year.
AsTeddy Hamilton’svoice growled at her through the earbuds, she closed her eyes, letting herself get swept away into another world.
Jerking upright and splashing water wildly as her limbs flailed, she panted in the dimly lit bathroom, her eyes wide in panic.
Fuck, did I fall asleep?
The water had cooled drastically, the bubbles were long gone, and her audiobook was several chapters beyond where she’d started it. Snatching her phone off the ledge of the tub, she groaned, then stood, shivering.
“Fucking four thirty,” she mumbled to herself, pulling the earbuds out of her ears and tossing them onto the counter by the sink. She wrapped herself in a fluffy towel and hastily dried off. Her fingers and toes were pruny, but at least her legs and feet didn’t ache anymore.
She blew the candles out and exited the bathroom, padding down to the kitchen to dump out the half empty glass of wine before rinsing the glass and setting it in the sink. The house was dark and quiet, and no moonlight filtered in through the windows.
Yawning broadly, she rolled her head across her shoulders and walked back down the hallway to the bedroom and dropped the towel. A pair of skimpy sleep shorts were hastily pulled up her legs, and then she yanked on an extra-large sweatshirt, shoving her arms into the sleeves.
Turning, she reached for the clothes that she’d left scattered on the bed before her bath, but stopped, her gaze flicking fromeach item, her brows drawing into a deep V as her breathing accelerated.
