This is total chaos, but I like it.
A ruckus at Ethan and Cas’s table makes me look over, and I laugh.
Ethan, Cas, and Dex are all standing on the table, singing and shaking their asses. Dex knows the whole song, and somehow that surprises me the most, a flicker of something warm and unexpected settling low in my chest before I push it away.
I look around and can’t help being pulled into the madness as I smile and start to sing along.
Maybe working here won’t be so bad after all… or maybe I’m just getting used to the chaos.
???
Dexter
I fight the urge to look over at the bar.
And lose.
A smile slowly forms as I watch Lexy sing along to the song, her hips swaying as she prepares drinks and sets them on her serving tray.
My gaze flicks to the braids again before I can stop it.
Bad idea. Very bad idea.
Because the first thing that comes to mind is what it would feel like to have them wrapped around my fist, pulling her close enough to shut that smart mouth of hers with mine.
I jump off the table and make my way over to the bar. It’s packed, and I see Stephen struggling to keep up with the orders.
“Whiskey sour,” Rob, a regular, asks. His wife is on the dance floor, cheering the new singers on.
“There you go.” I set his drink in front of him just as Lexy walks back behind the bar and starts preparing her order.
“New waitress?” Rob nods toward her.
“Yes.”
I don’t elaborate.
“Cute one.”
I look up and find him staring a bit too long at her ass while she pulls out some sodas.
“Don’t think Eileen would like you ogling my new waitress.”
It comes out way too pissed off, but…
“My wife won’t mind. She ogles you from time to time too.”
Rob just smiles, takes his drink, and walks over to smooch his wife on the dance floor.
I shake my head.
They’re a weird couple, but somehow they work.
“Hey, cutie!”
Carl, James, and David take their seats at the bar. They come by a few times a week, and I always have to cut their tab after a while and call their wives or girlfriends to come pick them up.
Carl is looking at Lexy, and something tightens low in my chest, sharper this time, less explosive and more controlled, like I’m holding it in instead of letting it snap.
