Page 76 of Daddy's Wild Girl

That’s when other adventures came in, like skydiving.

“That’s Churchill?” Corbin asked, standing close behind her.

His breath tickled the back of her neck.

Whoa.

A shiver of delight ran through her body.

Now even his breath was turning her on? What was wrong with her?

“He looks nothing like Churchill,” he commented.

“He’s not supposed to,” she managed to say. Once she unscrambled her brain. “Everyone here uses an alias. They all chose famous British people. Celebrities or playwrights or politicians or sports people. Things like that. The other bartender’s name is Darwin.” She waved at the older guy down the other end. He nodded back at her, watching Corbin with serious eyes.

Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea. She hadn’t really appreciated how protective her friends might be of her.

“There’s another bouncer called Princess Di. She’s a character and you don’t want to piss her off. And though she wears a tiara, she can take most grown men down with one hand.” She sighed. “She’s my idol. And then there are a few servers as well. There’s Beatrix as in Beatrix Potter and Jane from Jane Austen. Oh, and there’s Bob.” She waved over at the wiry guy playing a piano in the corner. Badly. He hit the wrong note and she winced. “I think it’s short for Robert the Bruce, but he won’t tell anyone. He doesn’t officially work here. One day, he just started playing the piano and told everyone that was his job. He also threatened to cut anyone who touched his baby. His baby is the piano.” She winced at another missed note. “He’s also awful. But, you know, kind of crazy. So no one argues with him.”

“He did what? He threatened to cut you?”

She rolled her eyes. “No.” Turning, she pointed her finger at him. “And I know what you’re going to say. We are not leaving. He didn’t threaten to cut me. He threatened to cut anyone who tried to play his piano. I have never touched his piano. And Bob likes me. He wouldn’t slice me up.”

“Slice you up?” Corbin grumbled. “Dear God. My blood pressure is going through the roof. I think I might actually be having a heart attack.”

Men. Such drama queens.

“Bebe!” Churchill yelled out, obviously tired of waiting for her to come to him. “You want your usual, babe?”

“Babe?” Corbin growled.

Okay, this was going to take a lot of her patience. And she didn’t have much of that left.

“It’s just a nickname; it doesn’t mean anything.”

“It better not,” Corbin muttered.

“Don’t worry. I think Churchill has a thing for Jane. Although she’s so skittish, she practically runs away whenever she sees him. It’s a whole thing.” Shaking her head at their antics, she grabbed Corbin’s hand and pulled him right over to the bar.

“Hey, Bebe,” Ernest said as he sat at the rough, worn wooden bar. “Getting your usual?”

Like that hadn’t just been screamed across the room.

“Sure am, Ernest. Where’s Bertha?”

“Gone to pee. She’s got a bladder like a greyhound. Always going. But little bits, you know. Can’t get a whole pee out like I can.”

“TMI, Ernie,” she said as she sat several stools down from him in case Hayes or Corbin wanted to sit next to her.

She really wouldn’t object to Corbin sitting next to her.

As long as he behaved.

Sheesh, she didn’t think she’d have so many problems with him. He was making Hayes look like a choirboy.

Churchill put her usual in front of her and she clapped her hands in excitement.

“What the hell is that?” Hayes asked, coming up to stand beside her. Corbin was on her other side and shot her drink a look of horror before his gaze moved around the room.

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