Daisy winks, then heads to the other end of the bar to bark at a few men getting rowdy. She has bouncers at this place, but Daisy can usually break things up before she needs to call on the muscle. She’s a woman in charge. Turns out, that’s my type.
When the curvy waitress rushes by with a tray filled with shots and two whiskey sours, I track her movement with my eyes. Lindsey looks different in this element, and seeing her puts a boyish grin on my face.
“All right, gather round, fellas. Time to toast,” she says as she lines up the drinks on one of the high-top tables in the back. It looks like someone is having a bachelor party. Either that, or it’s rush season for the university fraternity, and one of these dudes got in. I never did any of that shit, so I’m not sure if it’s the right season for it.
Lindsey’s hips sway as she maneuvers her way through the crowded tables, picking up empty glasses and stuffing tips intoher apron pocket. I’m starting to wonder if she’s even interested in going back to a nannying gig, given how much cash I see her tucking away.
Her gaze lifts after she clears her last table, and when our eyes meet, I remember why I came. I need to know if I can live without this girl. And if I can’t, I need to convince her that she needs me just as much.
“You’re early,” she says, sidling up to me with a full tray propped on her palm.
“Not a lot of traffic heading this way, I guess.” I scan along her side, tracing the curve of her breast and her hips. “You can really rock an Earl’s T-shirt, by the way.”
Her head tilts and she gives me side eyes. All I can do is shrug.
“I have very good taste. What can I say?”
Her lips slowly pucker into a tight smile, and she steps into me, giving me a kiss on my cheek.
“Yes. You do,” she says.
I watch her hips sway as she sashays around the bar, dumps her dirty glasses into a bin, then tucks her tray behind the counter.
“You good if I take off now, Daisy?” She holds up a hand and Daisy gives her a thumbs up from the other end of the bar. It’s packed in here.
“I’m fine waiting if she needs your help for a while.”
“Daisy? Help?” Lindsey spits out a short laugh as her eyes pull in. As if on cue, Daisy whistles loudly enough that the entire bar gets quiet and looks her way.
“Someone lost their keys. Who’s Mikey is a bad boy?” she reads aloud from a keychain. The razzing comes from the table of rookies in the back, and they shove some poor dude side to side as he makes his way to the bar like a kid getting called to the front of the class.
“Mikey is indeed a very bad boy,” I tease under my breath.
“You’re one to talk,” Lindsey jokes. Heat rushes down my neck, mostly from the way her gaze flirts with me.
“You’re a little too good at this gig,” I warn.
She unties her apron after pulling out a fistful of cash, then settles in next to me on a seat at the end of the bar.
“You should see me nanny,” she teases. Her smile isn’t quite as big this time, and her gaze lingers on me for an extra beat.
“Renleigh told you I’m thinking about . . .” I lift a shoulder, unable to say the wordquitting.Perhaps that’s the only sign I need. I can’t even say it. I just can’t seem to say I’m coming back for good, either.
“She says a lot of things. I’d rather hear what you have to say. Here, help me count.” She pushes the pile of money to the bar space between us, and I help her flatten out the crinkled ones and fives.
“This looked like a lot more when you pulled it out,” I admit.
“It always does,” she says with a sigh. She glances at me with a faint grin, then moves on to her copies of tabs while I take over counting her cash. We both end up with eighty-seven dollars for our total when we count, including the credit card tips. That’s not enough to cover groceries for a week.
“It’ll pick up when the season starts. Plus, I won’t be taking classes over the summer, so I’ll have more time to work.”
“School is going good, then?”
“I didn’t fail algebra, so yeah. I’d say it’s going well.” Her lips bunch with a short laugh and she breathes on her nails before rubbing them on the center of her shirt to mark her accomplishment.
“What I hear is you’re thinking of switching to a math major,” I tease. She shoves my arm, and I brace myself for the impact. Because I don’t move, she ends up leaning into me, and her hands stay on my arm.
“Politics, actually.”
