“You’ve been testy all day. Is it the heat or are you mad at me?” he snapped.
“What makes you think I’m angry?” she shot back.
“Honey, you’ve been in a mood ever since we were in the storage room. Did I do something to upset you?” Nash asked.
“I’m not your honey,” she said in a low growl, “and the world does not revolve around you just because you look like sex on a stick. Maybe I’m upset over something that has nothing to do with you or this bar.” She didn’t even bother to cross her fingers behind her back.
He flashed a brilliant grin. “So, you think I’m sexy?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said and took a tray to the other side of the room to gather up dirty mugs. She’d loaded six on a tray before she realized she had done exactly what he’d asked her to do and got angry all over again.
Stop this childish behavior,she scolded herself.Be honest and tell him why you are upset. He didn’t do anything but help you carry cases of beer out of the storage room.
She drew in a long breath and held it until her chest tightened before she let it out between clenched teeth. She needed time to think about how to approach her attraction to him before she talked to Nash. This wasn’t the time or place—not with Aunt Bernie so close by and with customers lined up at the bar.
***
Bernie made the decision to close up the bar at midnight. There was only one customer left and the thermostat had jumped up two more degrees. “See you tomorrow, Nash,” she said as she followed him to the door and locked it behind him.
He held out the extra key that she had given him,and Bernie shook her head. “Keep it in case you ever need to open up for me. We’re going to Duncan tomorrow to look at a trailer I can pull behind my truck. We should be back by five, but if we aren’t, you can take care of things. Oh, and tomorrow is also the day that the beer delivery guy comes in. You can sign for my regular order, but don’t let him talk you into that cheap brand. He always tries to pawn a case or two off on me, and it does not sell.”
“Got it,” Nash said with a nod. “See y’all then. Do you know what’s wrong with Clara?”
“Nope, but I did notice that y’all had a few words,” Bernie answered. “She’s had a tough year. Give her some space to work things out.”
He picked up his cowboy hat and settled it on his head. “I can do that. If you decide to stay on a few more years, will you consider hiring me to work for you?”
“I will give it some thought. Good night to you, Nash,” she said.
“Thank you, and good night to you, Miz Bernie.” He tipped his hat toward her.
Without even realizing it, he had just given her the proof of love that she wanted for her bar. He liked it so much that he was willing to work there if he couldn’t buy the place. Now if she could figure out what bee had gotten stuck in Clara’s bloomers, things would be great.
Clara had already left the bar, so Bernie turned off the fans and flipped the light switch. There was somethingabout the end of the day when the bar was dark that brought out a whole slew of memories, but she didn’t take time to dwell on them. She picked up two bottles of beer, twisted the tops off, hurried on back to the apartment, and sighed when the cold air hit her in the face.
“It feels pretty dang good, don’t it?” Clara had kicked off her shoes and stretched out on the sofa. “Pepper didn’t take long to do his business, and he’s flopped out on the cool kitchen floor.”
Bernie handed one of the beers to Clara, sank down in her recliner, and popped the footrest up. “I’m worn plumb out. How about you?”
“Not as much tired as hot,” she answered.
“And aggravated about something, right?”
“Yep, but I’d rather talk about anything else,” Clara answered. “Like why are you planning to live in a trailer? Why don’t you just take over one of those bedrooms up in the Paradise?”
“Several reasons,” Bernie answered. “Sometimes I might want to put a little Jameson in my morning coffee. What Mary Jane don’t know won’t hurt her on that issue. And a cigar helps me figure out something when I’m worried. I would never smoke in the house, but still, I would have to be careful. That’s enough right there, but then there’s Pepper. I can’t ask Mary Jane to let me bring a dog into her house. She has a sassy cat that is twice his size, and that vicious critter would probably kill him. But the biggest reason is that I need my own space.”
“Good reasons,” Clara said, “but you could just leave Pepper here. I’ve kind of gotten attached to him.”
“Can’t do it.” Bernie chuckled. “Hershal could possibly go to hell for stealing the dog for me. I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t take him with me. If Hershal ever comes back into the bar, I’ll pretend that I would have rather had the dead goldfish. But truth is I’ve wanted a Chihuahua my whole life. My sister claimed to be allergic to cats and dogs, so I could never have one.”
As if the dog understood what Bernie said, he hopped up on the edge of her chair and whined. She picked him up, and he licked her chin and then curled up in her lap. “Poor little guy was lonesome. He’ll be happy when he doesn’t have to stay alone every night.”
“Well, if you change your mind…” Clara said.
“And if you decide you want to talk about whatever has put you in a grouchy mood, I’m here. I’m a bartender, and that makes me an excellent listener,” Bernie said.
“I like Nash, but after Kent, I vowed never to date a coworker again,” she admitted. “So, we will have to keep our relationship totally professional.”
