Page 18 of Old-Fashioned

But for Abel, for what his brother had done for him… no way in hell would he cross that line, no way in fucking hell.

***

I was behind the bar washing glasses, my head thrown back in laughter at the story Isla was telling me about her date last night.

“I mean, can you even imagine that shit? I feel as though my dates belong in the Guinness Book of World Records, the page on the worst dates in human history.”

“How did the waitress respond?” I asked her with a snicker.

She laughed, “It was hilarious. So, after he went to the restroom and cornered her in the hallway, she came back to the table, handed him the check, and handed me a mini chocolate lava cake, with a wink.”

I chuckled.

“And then, she stood there as Burt looked at the bill, and before he could ask her why it was only his meal. She smiled, huge, and said, any man that’s on a date with another woman and tries to feel up another is a piece of shit. So, for her having to endure your presence and doing it like a lady, her meal is free. And then she looked at me and tipped her head at the cake and said, that’s from the cook, he heard it all. Wanted me to tell you to take your gorgeous ass self home, eat that, and not be sad that the date was a disaster.”

I was shaking my head, about to open my mouth to tell her that we should go to that restaurant, sit in the woman’s section, and tip her. Huge…

…When he came in.

I knew it was him.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up on end.

My heart started to skip a beat.

Looking over my shoulder, I took in a breath.

He had on that shirt.

That shirt fit his body, showed off his tattoos, and made me want to be the lucky as hell woman who had the right to run her hands over the fabric, grip the bottom of the shirt, and slowly lift it up his body.

At that thought, I had to press my thighs together.

Thank god the bar hid that fact.

Isla was the first one to ask, “Hey, Boss. You’re off today. What are you doing here?”

I didn’t comment when Abel stared at me for long moments, then without looking at anything or anyone else, he answered her, “Need to get caught up on paperwork.”

And with that, he headed to his office.

I ignored the look Isla was giving me and got back to work.

Well… I tried too anyway.

Unfortunately, I didn’t take into account the type of man Abel Black was.

Because he made it impossible.

He came out of his office two hours later, told Frank to head on home, and worked the rest of the night behind the bar.

It definitely didn’t escape my notice, or Isla’s for the matter as we stood later in the night looking at the new schedule.

Apparently, on my days off, a certain dark-haired, six-foot-three man also had the same days off.

Chapter 4

Abel

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