Page 6 of Wolf's Forbidden Curse

“Please ignore him.” Al turned around and put the beers down in front of me. “He thinks he can get away with anything because of that strong jaw of his, but the cocky attitude is going to catch up with him one day.”

I grinned and picked up all four beers at once. “But not today.”

“You’re not as slick as you want to believe you are,” Al grumbled.

“You sure about that?”

Then I spun around and proceeded to do the least slick thing a person could do.

I ran directly into the gorgeous new bartender, spilling all four beers down the front of her shirt and dropping the glasses in such a way that they shattered into a million pieces all around her now soaking-wet shoes.

CHAPTER 3

KATRINA

It all happened so fast. My memory of it was a blur. One second, I was walking past the bar to go check on a couple of patrons at the table by the front window, and the next second, I was covered in cold, sticky beer, and the exposed skin of my feet was pin-pricked with beads of bright red blood. I gasped.

"Oh my god," said the man who had caused the accident. "I am so fucking sorry. I didn’t know you were behind me."

I stared down in shock, not even sure how to react. Al had warned me about walking too fast through the bar when things started to get crowded, noting that while he had a fair number of extra glasses in the back, he didn’t like to have to replace them more than was absolutely necessary. This was precisely what he’d been worried about.

Shit. I’m totally fired.

"Do you have a rag or something?" the man asked Al. "Or a mop? I’m going to clean this up. Again, I am so sorry."

"No, it’s okay," I said, finally snapping back to the moment. Maybe if I took care of the mess myself without any complaint, I could save my job. "You don’t have to do anything. Don’t worry about it. I’m going to clean it up. Just let me run to the supply closet."

For the first time since we collided, I looked at the man’s face, and our eyes met. His were dark blue and contrasted beautifully against his thick, dark brown eyebrows. His hair was shaggy, and he had the beginnings of a five-o’clock shadow appearing on his chin and cheeks.

Fuck.

Not only was I covered in beer and seconds away from losing my job, but this was all happening right in front of one of the hottest men I’d ever seen. He was staring back at me, not saying anything, but his expression was hard to read. Did he feel the same instant attraction I did, or was he just waiting for me to jump into action instead of standing around like a fish out of water?

"Be careful," was what I managed to finally say. "The glass really went everywhere. Just stand there, and I’ll go get the broom."

"If you just tell me where the cleaning supplies are," he said. "I would feel a lot better if you at least let me help you."

"No, really, let me do it," I insisted. "It’s my job."

"But I was the one who made the mess."

"It was my fault. I shouldn’t have gone behind you like that when you were clearly grabbing drinks at the bar. Seriously, I’m happy to do it." I turned on my heel and hurried away before he could argue any further, heading for the backroom and shutting the door behind me. Alone in the cool, dark space, I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. I could feel the start of a panic attack coming on, but I had learned ways to combat my anxiety over the years. My most effective method for staving off a panic attack was to go for a walk outside, but seeing as that wasn’t an option, I went with plan B. I closed my eyes, continued to breathe, and counted backward from 99.

At 53, I could feel my heart rate coming down, and just in time, too. Al opened the door right then and looked at me with a worried expression.

"Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"

"I’m fine," I said. "And no, I’m not really hurt. Sorry I am taking so long. I just didn’t know where the mop was."

He laughed. "I didn’t expect you to. This is your first shift and I usually don’t bother mopping the floors until after closing. With all the glass on the floor, though, I’m definitely going to have to grab the broom and a wet rag."

"I will." Looking to my right, I spotted a bucket with rags inside. I reached for it. "You go back to tending bar and let me take care of this."

"Are you kidding? You’re not going anywhere near that mess."

I gulped. "Oh. I understand. I’ll get out of your way. Go get my things from upstairs and?—"

"What?" He shook his head. "I don’t want you out of the way. I just need you to go clean the glass out of your feet. The last thing I need is you filing a workplace compensation suit against me."

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