Can I call her now? Tell her the details before I get screwed by how small this town really is?
The woman with the loose top leans over the counter, and a whole tit almost dumps out of her collar.
My stomach acid is going to chew through every organ in my body. I beeline to the table of trail riders to see if anyone needs refills. They’re just talking about leaving. Dammit.
The distillery crawlers are also calling it a night so they can hit up at least one distillery in Billings before they quit serving for the evening. We’re open for two more hours, and the barstool stalkers aren’t leaving.
This has never been an issue. I never went home with people I met here even before Elodie started giving me the time of day, but that’s not what the gossip says. None of the guys did either when they were single. In fact, hitting on us at work was a sure way to get our rejection. All of us are dedicated to Foster House Gold. Doesn’t stop people from talking, but with five of us, it was never clear who was the root of the talk, so it didn’t matter to us that there was talk.
I should ask Iverson and Durban what they do. My situation isn’t quite the same, but if any of the other guys were working, these two would be all over them too.
A couple comes in, and I shoot Lane a glare before he even thinks about greeting them and taking their order. I head there before my brother can fuck with me. Spending a few minutes chatting gets my pulse to settle down.
When I return to the bar to make their drinks, I go straight to the shelf of bottles.
He appears next to me and tips his head close to mine. “You’ve gotta relax. It’s going to be okay, but the customers are going to sense your mood.”
“What if it’s not okay?” I whisper back without turning my head. “There was nearly nipple action, and it wasn’t an accident. I don’t need that getting around town.”
“I can ask them to leave.”
I let out a long breath. The distillery’s reputation could take a hit. They’re nothing but flirty girls. They aren’t the first and they won’t be the last, and I need to get over it. If only I could talk to Elodie, calm my anxiety down, and be my normal, flirty but aloof self.
I’m not doing anything wrong, and I’ll have to trust that Elodie knows me well enough to realize the truth over rumors that haven’t even happened yet. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”
I don’t have to specify what I mean.
He slaps me on the shoulder. “I’ve got your back.”
Now both of the woman’s tits are on the countertop. She’s bellied up to the bar so close that her ass can’t possibly reach the stool. I’m not going to be the one to check.
The glint off a car window in the parking lot catches my eye before I spin around to shelve the bottles I took out for the couple. Thank fuck more customers are arriving.
The door opens. When I turn back to make sure Lane knows I have dibs, my tongue sucks back into my throat. Fuuuck.
A woman struts in, all legs and abs and full, lush tits. Her long, glossy dark hair flutters behind her, and her shrewd hazel gaze sweeps the room as she makes her way unhurriedly toward the bar. The denim shorts she’s wearing reveal her entire bouquet tattoo, which means half her ripe ass cheeks are sticking out. One hummingbird is visible along her rib cage thanks to the scrap of a top she’s wearing. The sky-high red stripper heels unlock a million fantasies I didn’t know I had. She moves likeshe’s on a runway, and I’m stuck in the tractor beam of her sex appeal.
“Whoa,” Lane breathes next to me. “Didn’t see that coming, and I’m the one who called her.”
I don’t have time to be confused. Her gaze collides with mine, and the air sizzles between us. The corner of my mouth tips up. Elodie’s here. Sexual tension replaces all my earlier frustration. She clears the counter without slowing down, heading right for me. When she reaches me, she throws her arms around me and gives me the biggest kiss. I hug her to me, bending her back, though not far. Those heels are throwing off my perception of how tall she really is.
“I thought no one was allowed behind the counter?” the almost intruder complains.
“She works with us sometimes,” Lane lies easily. Sometimes our old habits come in handy. “Besides, she’s his girl.”
I let Elodie up for air. My hands are at her waist, but I’m touching mostly bare skin. She’s hot as fuck, but this outfit puts a big ol’ spotlight on it. “Sugar, you’re so damn hot you’re gonna combust all the liquor in here.”
She grins. Her red lipstick is smeared. Half is probably on my lips, but I rub at hers gently with my thumb instead. It gives me an excuse to touch her. I don’t know what Lane did, but he must’ve sent an SOS on my behalf. And she’s here when there’s a ton of baking she’s got to do for the street fair next weekend.
Eyes burn into us, and likely into Elodie’s ass cheeks, but I haven’t been gifted with that view yet. I tuck her into my side. My smile has to be as goofy as it feels, but I don’t care. My relief leaves me as relaxed as drinking a few shots in a row.
I stroke my thumb up and down the bare skin of her side. “Our two guests here heard about your bakery. They want to visit it tomorrow.” Did Lane tell her about them? When did he have time to shoot her a text?
I don’t care. She’s here.
“That’s so amazing to hear.” Her smile has a hint of wickedness. Turning around, she reaches into her back pocket and pulls out two business cards. How’d they fit in that teeny pocket?
Again, I don’t care. The sight in front of me strikes all thought from my head. The curves of her ass cheeks top long, smooth legs. Those heels... Lust pumps steadily into my veins.
