Page 17 of Don't You Want Me, Baby?

The Slug patrons were pretty rubbish at hiding their intrigue as Tyler stomped back to his seat. Mary pushed a stiff double whisky in front of him, patting his hand. ‘On me, love.’ She smiled, before heading back off to help her husband start the bar shutdown. Sharon appeared at his side. He’d crossed his arms on the bar, was staring at the carpeted floor. When her pink-painted toenails came into view in her peep-toe stilettos, he groaned.

‘I know, you don’t have to say it.’

‘Well, I will anyway. What were you thinking, saying that?’

He huffed, feeling the pop in his neck muscles as he dragged his tired body upright. Sharon’s lip was curled up at one side as she looked at him. Well, through him. She was still pretty sozzled.

‘I was trying to help. He called her, you know. Trying to talk his way back in. I want to knock his damn teeth out.’

Still might, if he breaks her heart again.One of the biggest mistakes he’d ever made was letting him chat her up on that night out. The first was not asking her out the second he’d got his head out of his arse and realised his new boss was the woman of hisdreams. By the time he’d recovered from his own shitshow of a London love life, it was too late. Enter Bradley sodding Sloane.

He’d heard about his flash ladies’ man reputation, and regretted his hesitation ever since. He’d never thought that Amber would look twice at a man like Bradley Sloane. Why would she? He was the opposite of everything she was. When Bradley and Amber had got talking that night, Tyler felt as though he’d been punched in the gut. He’d wanted to stride over there, pick Amber up and take her back to his cave and guard her from him. But then he’d seen how happy she’d been after. Bradley, to his credit, had changed too and he’d become almost worthy of her. Almost. When they’d talked about their business plans, he thought it might spur her on. He knew she was scared of not getting The Bingley Arms, but she’d been working every hour, telling him about her ideas and plans. He knew she could do it. He could see her, in that life. Having the family she wanted, back in her happy place. Hell, it was one of the reasons he’d stayed at the Slug so long: for the chance to see her pull it off. Maybe he’d even harboured the dream that she’d ask him to work therewithher. He would have done that in a heartbeat.

But Bradley, the stupid prick, had taken one look at her and decided that she was the woman he’d wanted. He’d changed, been a good boyfriend, so Tyler had just let it happen. It wasn’t like he could do much about it anyway. Couldn’t offer her everything she wanted. He still bore his own scars, after all.

He’d been friend zoned pretty quickly. For the first few months of working there, Tyler had been broken, and then so tongue tied and love drunk around her, he’d been a big, gruff, monosyllabic idiot. By the time he’d gotten his bearings, they were friends, good friends. And then he’d waited some more, because he loved being her friend, loved being in her life. Amber Fitzpatrick was a woman who took care of everyone around her. She bought toys and treats and took them to the animal shelterevery Christmas, because she said she couldn’t bear the thought of the dogs waiting to be adopted not getting anything to play with. She ran a library book service for the regulars, going there once a week to collect and drop off books. She’d done the round trip ever since the mobile library had been forced to stop due to budget cuts. Bill’s wife adored her for it, and Bill was always dropping off little lists of books his wife wanted, along with her signature fruit cake. A cake, incidentally, that Amber didn’t even like. Every time she ooh’d and aah’d over the cake, and never said a word. He knew for a fact that she dropped it into the food bank bag she dropped off in the village. She even knitted woolly hats and scarves in winter for the old blokes who came to the pub for God’s sake. When Tyler had asked her about it, she’d shrugged. ‘Well, I don’t want them to be cold,’ she’d said. He’d bought her a tonne of wool balls the next September. Could still see the look on her face when she realised he’d remembered. How shocked she’d been because someone had thought ofher.Even though she didn’t quite understand the real reason he’d done it. He still had the hat and scarf she’d knitted him as a thank you. He’d smelled like her for a few days, with that creation around his neck. It had driven him half crazy, inhaling that scent on something she’d made just for him. Who didn’t want to be there for a woman like that?

‘Earth to Tyler,’ Sharon flicked him on his forehead.

‘What?’ He jumped, pulling himself out of his stupor.

‘I said, what’s the plan?’

He grunted back at her, but she wasn’t having it. ‘Words. I need actual words. It’s her birthday party next week. Are we still doing it or what?’

‘Hell yeah, we are,’ he nodded. ‘Everything’s on track.’

Sharon folded her arms, looking back at her date and giving him a ‘five minutes’ gesture before rounding back to him.

‘Yeah, and how’s that going to work, if you’re not talking to her and her and Bradley are still talking? What if he shows up?’

‘I don’t give a shit about Bradley. He’s not part of this. We planned it. If he comes, he comes.’There’s a bin out back with his name on it.

‘Ok-ay,’ Sharon drawled. ‘But what about you two? What’s going on?’

‘Nothing,’ he grabbed for the whisky as Mary rang the last-orders bell. Drained half of it without blinking. ‘We’re friends. I apologised. We’ll be good.’

Sharon sighed, taking the stool next to him.

‘Yeah, but for how long?’

Tyler played with his glass, shooting her a blank stare.

Her sculpted brows lifted to her hairline. ‘How long are you going to pretend you’re not totally in love with her, eh? You just going to look after her and hope one day she realises? Doesn’t sound like a good move to me.’

‘I… don’t…’ Sharon shook her head at him, and he sagged further on his stool. ‘How long have you known?’

Her returning look was full of pity. ‘I’ve known pretty much the whole time. Why do you think I got her to help me arrange all those dates? I thought it would give you a push.’

‘You did that even after Sloane came along.’

Sharon shrugged. ‘Yeah well, it was funny too. There’s not that much to do around here.’

‘You’re the worst,’ he huffed. ‘Does she know?’

She nudged her elbow with her own. ‘Sorry, big guy. She doesn’t have a clue.’

His head dropped to the bar with a thunk, making a couple of the nearby pub goers jump. Sharon yanked him back up by the hair, pulling off a beer-soaked coaster that had attached to his face.She laughed, warm humour wrapping her words. ‘If it’s any consolation, she’s been looking at you a little differently lately.’

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