Chapter 1
Becca
Neon beer signs totally signaled a new beginning. Sure, a girl might not think it possible, but Rebecca—Becca—Forrester was out to prove they could. The scent of hops and bourbon paired with the blast of music through the speakers and constant hum of life in the background at Brek’s Bar in Denver, Colorado. Outside, the snow had turned to a slushy mess. Inside, the bar warmed her like she’d taken a shot of top-shelf whiskey.
Oh yes, this joint was the perfect place for a fresh start that did not involve anyone else or the baggage they dragged along with them.
“Why do you want to wait tables here?” Brek asked, giving a dose of emphasis onhere. “I’d have thought you’d prefer some place with tablecloths.”
Becca laughed. Brek was as biker as biker got—long hair, leather, and an abundance of tattoos. His wife was…not. She was a financial planner, and Becca’s friend.
Becca shook her head. She definitely didn’t want to wait tables anywhere else. “I’m looking for the diviest dive I can find.”
The idea to wait tables was a complete one-eighty from her recent past as a certified behavioral counselor, but she wouldn’t go back. Not yet. Especially not when she was having a perfectly lovely time at the local go-to spot for great music in Denver, hanging with her friends, and harassing Brek into hiring her as a part-time waitress while she took a life break.
“Diviest dive? Well, I guess this is your place.” Brek flashed her a smile.
“Exactly.” Becca tucked a lock of her thick, brown hair behind her ear, where it belonged but never stayed. “Until I figure out what comes next for me.”
“You can live the dream right here with me.” Brek patted the bar top like it was a living, breathing thing. Something he adored.
Sigh. Someday she wanted someone to look at her like Brek looked at his wife and his bar top.
Not now. She was on a break from all of that—the relationships, the responsibility, everything—but, someday, the adoration thing would be fun to have, too.
He’d created the perfect dive bar atmosphere—neon lights on the dark wood over the bar with his name lit up in blue. The wood paneling covering the walls was new enough to make the place look well-kept but beat up enough that it didn’t look like he had tried too hard. Aesthetically, nothing matched. Yet everything still worked together. The place was definitely Instagram-worthy.
The darkened room hopped in preparation for the band to take the stage. A vibe she loved pulsed through the air. That feeling right before music blasts and the lights come to life. Yep. This was exactly what she wanted for her present life: loud music and the familiar faces of the bar’s regulars, with no further obligation for the mental or physical well-being for those around her.
Also, the best bands played at Brek’s Bar. Sometimes, because he had the connections, Brek brought in huge names. Likehuuuge. Waiting tables here was perfect for a recovering groupie on hiatus from life.
“You can start next weekend?” Brek asked.
“Next weekend would be perfection.” Becca glanced at her friends, mingling across the room.
ThenLinxentered Brek’s Bar. Becca choked on nothing but air.
Linx. Walked. Through. The. Door.
Bassist for Dimefront. Hot as all hell. Heartbreak in leather pants when he took the stage.
She, on the other hand, was only hot when she wore a sweater. Definitely not heartbreak in any kind of clothing. Unless… Could a woman be heartbreak in yoga pants? She was sure that wasn’t possible. She shook the thought from her head as he moved her direction.
Her mouth didn’t just go dry; her entire body froze in time.
Tonight, he’d ditched the leather and wore shredded blue jeans instead. Lanky, with ridiculously long dark hair, stubble that was a half day away from being a full beard, and all the charisma of a man who could get tens of thousands of screaming fans on their feet with one chord on his guitar. He scanned the room like he owned the joint.
Brek may have owned the bar, but Linx owned the room.
“Looks like my current assignment is here,” Brek said, offhand with a touch of growl.
“Linx is your assignment?” Okay, she tried to resist sliding her gaze back to Linx, but she failed. Every woman in the house got the Linx grin as he continued his slow saunter through the room.
“I’m his babysitter…” Brek said, glowering in Linx’s general direction.
Crumpet crap-ola. Her blood seemed a whole lot thicker and her skin a whole lot thinner when he sauntered toward Brek… and her. The blue neon halo was a nice touch. Well done, universe. Well done, indeed.
She sighed because…. Linx.
