Page 51 of Those Two Words

“Thanks, Lenny, put it on the tab and I’ll settle it at the end of the night.” I place a few dollars on the bar mat and grab the tray of drinks. “Thanks for letting us use the bar tonight.”

“Better you all than all those flatlandahs and busybodies from away. Always causin’ trouble.”

He’s always had a problem with people from out of state, but he knows like all business owners in town, we rely on them returning every year. “Maybe next year they’ll stay away.”

“If you are gonna stay late, I’ll leave ya my keys. Just make sure you close the lights off before you lock up.” He doesn’t wait for my reply before dumping a large set of keys on the bar, grumbling something and shuffling away to serve more customers.

Lenny might not be the most welcoming to his patrons, but the bar and the restaurant have always had a really good relationship for as long as I can remember. He and my dad were old school friends, and they helped each other out a lot over the years. Lenny was also a huge help to my family and me in the weeks after my dad’s passing.

He knows we’re good for settling our tab, so it’s not the first time he’s given us the keys and told us to lock up after ourselves.

I pocket the keys and carry the tray of drinks over to the small crowd at the back of the room. The scoreboard tells me that the front of house is still beating the kitchen by one game, and I intend to keep it that way.

As people collect their drinks and thank me, I look around, disappointment settling when I still don’t see Jo in the crowd of people.

I’m about to cave and ask Booth if she’s coming when the front door of the bar swings open. The first thing I see is a pair of long, lean legs wrapped in tight black denim. I follow the denim higher, coming to soft, supple thighs. A sliver of creamy skin peeks out from the top of the jeans. Up and up, my eyes travel. Tempting, full hips, small waist, and perky tits that I know are the perfect handful and are close to spilling out of the black ensemble holding them up.

My jeans get tighter as I imagine what they’d look like with my cock sliding between them.

I track her movements, even as she’s pulled toward the bar. Her infectious laughter rings across the room at whatever Quinn is saying before they throw back a shot of something with a grimace. A small trickle of liquid escapes, falling from her chin, trailing down her slender neck, and disappearing into her cleavage. What I would do to be that drop of liquor.

Her pink tongue peeks out, and it’s then I should stop watching. My thoughts are too filthy to be in the company of others right now, my brain only transmitting messages to one organ in particular the moment she walked through the door.

She turns her head, a curtain of golden hair partly obscuring my view, but I still see the flare of her eyes when they find me checking her out without care.

And I couldn’t give a shit.

If she’s going to turn up looking like that, she deserves to know exactly what it does to me. No other fucker better be looking at her the same way though.

My eyes dart around the room, checking I’m the only one, which is when I meet the amused gaze of my little brother. The pool cue is slung over his shoulders and his arms are perched on either end as it rests behind his neck.

I ignore the smug smile slowly growing on his face as I make my way over, after one final glance back at Jo.

“Christ, Pat, you were a smitten kitten in high school. I’m not sure what to call you this time around. Eager beaver? Love-struck buck?” He pokes me in the ribs with the cue.

“Fuck off. It’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh, so what did it look like?”

Walked right into that one.

“Exactly.” Giving me a wink, he strolls away to take his shot and pockets the solid yellow ball with ease, before ending the game and sinking the eight ball, making the score between the kitchen and front of house even.

I make a conscious effort not to let my eyes follow Jo as she makes her way over to where the rest of the team is sitting. The moment she sits next to Simon, however, I find myself stomping over to them before I even realize what I’m doing.

Fucking Simon.

Poor guy hasn’t done anything wrong; he just needs to not exist around Jo. I’m not asking for much.

Quinn is already deep in conversation with some of the bar staff, leaving Jo and Simon to their own private conversation. There’s an empty stool next to Jo, which Booth makes a beeline for. Before he can sit down, I shoulder check him and claim the seat for myself.

Everyone murmurs their “hellos,” as Jo’s eyes flick between Booth, hauling himself off the floor with a chuckle, and me. Ignoring my brother, I lean in close and whisper in her ear. “I didn’t think you were going to join us.”

Her hair is pulled to the side to reveal the delicate skin of her neck, tempting me to run my tongue across it to see if I can still taste the shot that trickled down her throat. Her shoulders draw back and breath hitches at my proximity, telling me she’s just as affected as I am. She’s removed her jacket to reveal a strappy-looking thing, that does little to hide her temptingly soft skin. This close, I can smell the floral scent of her perfume, but it’s the subtle hint of ocean that overrides my senses.

“I won’t lie,” she says, her eyes staying trained on the drink in front of her. “I forgot until this afternoon.”

“Are you going to play?” I nod toward the pool table.

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