I was going to hell.
The space behind the bar wasn’t built for four people.
Every time I turned, she was there. Our shoulders brushed when I reached for a clean glass.
Her hip bumped mine when she bent to grab more napkins.
If I hadn’t turned at the last minute, her ass would have grazed my cock.
Once, she stepped back into my chest, and I caught her around the waist to steady her.
“Sorry.” She looked up at me, all flushed cheeks and happy smiles.
My fingers flexed, digging into her skin before I had the chance to stop myself. I released her an instant later. “No problem.”
None whatsoever except for the raging hardon resting one wrong move away.
I flexed my fingers when she turned away, trying to rid them of the feel of her. Too late.
I’d memorized every curve, all the way down to how perfectly she’d fit against me for those few seconds.
Finn walked out of the back room, a second keg over one shoulder. “You look flushed. Need a break?”
“I’m fine.” I took the keg from him and wrestled it into position.
Finn snorted. “Sure.” He retreated to the other side of the bar, coming back with a tray of dirty glasses. “Just like I’m not enjoying the view every time Bree bends over to get something from the bottom shelf.”’
My jaw clenched as Bree did exactly that. We both might as well have turned into panting dogs based on the way my tongue threatened to fall out of my head. “Keep your eyes to yourself.”
He smirked. “Why, planning on staking a claim?” Finn laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. “Relax. I’m just giving you shit.”
Yeah, I couldn’t do that either.
Snow drifted past the window. A chorus of “ohh” drew several looks.
Tom turned, saw the snow, and cursed. “I’ll be damned.”
I didn’t bother gloating.
Within thirty minutes, the snow fell thick enough to coat the streets.
People started making excuses to leave, most of them needing to get home before the roads got too bad.
Declan called last rounds, and a short rush of drinking kept us all busy for another hour.
Bree moved among the tables as the last patrons left, collecting abandoned glasses and wiping down tables.
Her heels clicked softly, drawing my attention to her fishnet stockings.
“You guys should head out.” She carried empty glasses to the bar. “I’ll finish cleaning up.”
Finn snorted. “Not happening.”
Setting the tray down, she turned to face us. “I’ll be fine. I live upstairs. Not like I have to go anywhere like you guys. It’s getting bad, and I want you to get home safely.”
Declan shook his head. “We’re not leaving you to clean this up by yourself.”
“I’ve driven in worse.” I stacked chairs and picked up discarded napkins. “New England blizzards are nothing new.”
