Page 2 of Just My Luck

I opened my arms. “What? It’s cozy.”

Ben rolled his eyes and yanked his zip-up hoodie onto his shoulders. He shook his head. “You are so weird.”

I ruffled his nearly white-blond hair as he grumbled past me. “I promise I won’t even get out of the car. I was just running a little behind today, that’s all.”

Herding him out of the bedroom and down the narrow hallway, I turned to my granddad. “You can get them after school, right? I took a double shift and have to work until eight.”

Granddad nodded. “I can take care of the rascals.” He gestured toward them. “Come here.”

Enthusiastically, the twins hugged their great-grandfather. He may be grouchy and set in his ways, but he’d always shown up for us. His home was our safe haven after my divorce, and I owed him everything.

I checked my watch. “Okay, we’re officially late! Let’s go!”

Like herding cats, I rounded up backpacks, grabbed water bottles, and shuffled the twins out the door. True to my word, I didn’t get out of the car and embarrass the kids with my outfit. Instead, I smiled the biggest grin I could and waved as they walked into the elementary school building. Tillie was enveloped by a gaggle of girls, while Ben did what he had done every morning at drop-off—turned back for one last smile and wave.

I watched him walk into the elementary school building with a lump in my throat. The house fire had taken everything from us—almost. I would be grateful every single day for Lee Sullivan and for how he’d found Ben huddled in a closet and had saved his life by jumping out of the second-story window.

As it did every single day, driving away felt nearly impossible, but I reminded myself that he was safe and I had a grump to irritate.

I checkedmy reflection one last time. Biting back a smile, I channeled our lord and savior Miss Taylor Alison Swift by painting on a bold red lip. I flipped up the visor in my car and strode into Abel’s Brewery with a little extra swing to my hips.

Fridays meant the craft kitchen opened a few hours early, and patrons would be filling the booths and tables until close. On the outskirts of Outtatowner, Michigan, the brewery was nestledinto a large sand dune overlooking North Beach and the vast open waters of Lake Michigan. Abel’s Brewery appealed to the upscale tourist vibe in every way. It was a masculine contrast to the soft whimsy of the beach grass and had large wooden beams and iron accents inside and out. The back wall faced the lake and was lined with glass garage-style doors that opened during the spring, summer, and fall months. It was my favorite feature of the brewery. Fire pits with cushy seating dotted the exterior. Inside, a large double-sided fireplace could add warmth during the chillier winter months.

The luxurious, upscale vibe of the brewery was a stark contrast to its somber owner. Abel King was nothing but dark glowers and heavy sighs. Sometimes I worried my antics were taking it a bit too far, but then I remembered Abel’s little sister Sylvie had become my best friend, and that protected me... at least that was what I told myself.

Instead of using the side entrance designated for employees, I sauntered through the main entrance, hoping to make a splash with my appearance.

And make a splash I did.

Like clockwork, Abel was grumbling behind the bar, wiping off surfaces, washing glasses, and arranging everything the bartenders would need for a busy afternoon and evening of serving patrons.

I sneaked a glance from the corner of my eye. Abel King wasn’t just tall; he was massive. With wide shoulders and a tapered waist, most women in town would say he was devastatingly handsome—if they could manage to get past the perpetual storm cloud over his head.

His hair was dark and cut close on the sides, but lately I’d noticed he had let the top grow a little longer than his usual no-nonsense style. Dark eyebrows shadowed his irises, and I hadn’tyet dared get close enough to see if they were brown with hints of something like green or caramel or pitch black, as I’d suspected.

Why am I so drawn to dangerous men?

I tamped down the thought, and with my chin in the air I wove around high-top tables and past intimate high-backed booths that lined the outer perimeter.

My hips sashayed as I walked past the bar. “Morning, boss,” I singsonged as I slipped past him and reached for a glass.

While I filled the glass with water, Abel’s gaze was like a brand on my back. I’d certainly caught his attention. Stifling a giggle, I tightened my grip on the small duffel slung over my shoulder, carrying the work clothes I’d need to eventually change into. Under my robe was nothing but a bra and panties, because when you decide to mess with someone, you commit to the bit.

I took my time sipping the water and acting as if nothing at all was strange about me showing up to work on a Friday looking the way I did.

As I finished my drink, I swallowed with an audibleaahand clinked the glass into a wash sink. Satisfied that I had left my ever-serious boss reeling, I had moved to exit behind the bar when his hard, stern voice rolled over my shoulder.

“Sloane.” The deep rumble in such close proximity made me jump.

I scurried out from behind the bar, but in my haste, the loopy bow of my robe snagged. My forward momentum tugged on the belt, sending it tumbling to the floor. I turned, eyes wide with shock as the cold air tickled my skin.

I looked down to see my robe wide open, revealing my very visible nipples through the lacy mesh bra and thong set. My head whipped up to find that Abel also had a clear view of my barely there underwear.

With a yelp, I gripped the sides of the robe and pulled it closed. Heat burned my cheeks as I nearly ran around the bar and toward the back.

This was not at all how I’d seen this going.

Once safely inside the employee bathroom, I flipped on the light and, for the first time since leaving the house, took in my appearance. I looked ridiculous in the furry robe and curlers.

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