"What are you really doing here?" I ask.
"It's either here, a park bench, or the stairs of the motel," she says with a sigh.
I figured she'd spend the night with her parents after going over there, but I've heard her begrudging argument against that idea.
"Oh, damn, I thought maybe you came to see me." I feel a smirk fighting its way across my mouth.
In return, her lips purse to one side as the dimple on her right cheek deepens. "I did."
I think I might like the woman version of Haven a whole hell of a lot more than the know-it-all teenage girl I once knew. "So, how did your detective work go?" I grab a glass to polish, busying myself so I can keep talking to her.
"Not sure yet. I have a few things, but we can look at them when you get off." My insides burn, thanks to my inappropriate thoughts, and Haven has no clue what she just said, which makes me want to laugh at the same time.
"One more hour," I tell her, trying to keep a straight face.
"Did you sleep with that woman the other night?" Haven asks. I can see she looks upset about the idea, but I was angry…and things happen. It wasn't like I owed Haven anything that night.
"I did, yeah."
"Why?" she asks, sucking the life out of the tiny cocktail straw.
"I needed some ass, and she was interested," I tell her honestly.
Haven knows she can't get mad. She has no right, but that doesn't mean she isn't disgusted about it. Regardless, she’s hiding it well, as she polishes off her drink in less time than it takes me to mix up a few drinks for other shouted requests.
Haven taps her cup down onto the bar top and pushes it toward me. "Need a refill?"
"Why not?" she says...still no smile, just frustration, I'm guessing.
"You can't be pissy," I tell her while pouring the bottles of liquor into a new cup for her.
"I'm not."
I narrow my eyes in her direction, calling her bluff. "I may have been locked away for a while, but I know when a chick is pissed."
"She's gross," Haven says. "Like, prostitute gross." I agree with her, but I won't give her the satisfaction of knowing that.
I shrug. "It happens."
"Is it going to happen again?"
Shaking my head slowly as I lean my forearms down on the bar top, I bring my nose less than a few inches from hers, grinning. "No, it's not going to happen again."
Haven tries not to smile as she places her drink between us and sucks down the new one, but I pull the straw from her mouth just before she finishes. "Easy," I say. I remember the anger that resulted when she drank those the couple of times she came down here.
"Mr. Carson," she grips the cup. "Do you honestly think I can't handle my liquor these days?"
I release my grip from her straw and hold my hands up in defense. "Fine, have at it."
The hour slippedby in what felt like less than a few blinks, except Haven is a little more than tipsy, even after informing me she could handle her liquor.
It takes me a little while to close the place up, trying to run through the list of closing tasks Crow left for me. I told him I had the place under control so he could go home and work things out with Kacee. His mood was becoming unmanageable as people started to trickle in tonight, but he stayed until eleven to help with the heavy rush. Now, it's just drunks, Crystal who’s still milking her drink, and Haven.
I flip the lights on and ask Crystal and the two guys at the end of the bar to finish up. The guys don't give me a hard time as they polish off their beers and drop a tip down onto the bar, but Crystal gives me a look that tells me she wants to ruin my life. She finishes her drink, and her thighs noisily squeak off the barstool before she struts out of the door with her finger flying in the air as a goodbye.
"That's why I cleaned my chair…" Haven mutters. "Hope you showered when you were done with her."
"Hey," I scold her, tossing a napkin into her face.
