Page 71 of Beg, Borrow, or Steal

I stare down at my phone and then at the doors. Bars are not attached to good memories for me—and I haven’t stepped foot inside one in a very long time. I’ve sworn to myself that alcohol willneverbe a part of my identity. But Emily is in there…and something happened tonight that made her want to text me.

I pocket my phone and go through the doors. The first thing I notice is how busy it is. It’s around eight-forty-five and I swear the whole damn county is pressed in here. It’s hot, it’s loud, and it’s sweaty. But I smile because there’s something about it that’s infectious. Everywhere you look, someone is throwing their head back laughing, cheering for a friend to chug their beer, couples who clearly got a babysitter for the night making out on the dance floor, in their booth, over at the bar. Apparently there are a lot more young people in this area than I originally thought. They’ve come out of the woodwork to gather under the neon light of Hank’s.

The wildest part of this place, though, is the bar itself. There are at least twenty people gathered around waiting for drinks. A large group of men too—college-aged and midtwenties—packed together and all but drooling over the gorgeous blonde serving drinks. I do a double-take.

Holy shit, that’s Emily.

Surely that can’t be right? Emily doesn’t bartend. Does she? But while pressing my way through the crowd and closer to the bar, I hear her laugh, see her smile, and know that it’s absolutely her. And also that every single person at this bar is eating out of her hand—which surprises me none. She’s bossy, sharp-witted, and beautiful, a dangerous combination in a bartender.

“Jake! Quit pushing your way to the front. Rudeness isn’t going to get you a drink any faster! Chester, whatcha drinking tonight?” she asks, yelling over the head of a sullen-looking college kid.

“Emily darlin’, my usual, please!” an older gentleman with a long Santa beard yells back.

She grins. “So a pitcher and a ride home from Jerold?”

“That’ll do!”

Everyone at the bar laughs. Emily goes on like this with a few others, teasing and making drinks like it’s her sole purpose in life to work behind this bar. She looks effortless. A natural. And sexy as hell.

Sweat is coating her neck and chest where her white tank top is scooping down—showing just the slightest, most torturous amount of cleavage I’ve ever seen in my life. The fabric clings tight to her perspiration and her long golden-blond hair sticks to the side of her arm as she spins around the bar, making drinks at the speed of light.

I realize I’ve been standing here staring when a firm hand claps on my back.

“Jack. Glad you decided to join us. You staying for a bit?” It’s James. He’s smiling in a good-natured way, but I’m still so thrown off guard by the sight of Emily behind the bar that instead of answering, a question flies out of my mouth.

“Why is she working back there?”

James smiles fully and looks to Emily. Something about his smile toward her makes me irrationally angry. Possessive.Don’t smile at my Emily like that.“She was a bartender here through college, and usually jumps back there when Hank is too covered up to handle it all. She can’t stand seeing him in pain with his knees and gets mad when his employees call out on a Friday night knowing he’s going to have to take over for them.” We both stare at Emily. “And just look at all those poor idiots hanging onto the bar hoping to get a smile from her.” He chuckles like this doesn’t make me want to rip each one of them off their ass and take their seat and then put aTakensign on each empty stool.

“What about you?” I ask, turning my eyes directly to him. I’m smiling, but by the way his eyebrow lifts when he takes in myexpression, he knows it’s not all that friendly. It’s just me, a man in trousers and linen button-up, staring down a farmer in Wranglers and a white T-shirt who could undoubtedly beat me to a pulp if he wanted. But I find myself standing here willing to risk it all for the woman behind the bar.

“I’d be a lucky bastard to snag a woman like Emily. But you’ll be happy to know, she’s never looked twice at me, and I find myself stupidly attracted to brown-eyed brunettes. To my absolute detriment.”

I’m so relieved I can’t even bring myself to deny the “you’ll be happy to know” part. Because I don’t know what Emily is to me, but I know that the idea of her with him makes me want to die.

He suddenly chuckles, shakes his head, and claps me on the shoulder. “You can relax these. I won’t fight you over her today.” His smile fades. “But I swear to God, I will if you hurt her.”

“Always encroaching on my territory, James,” says Emily’s brother Noah, walking up to us. “Aren’t I supposed to be the one saying scary shit like that?”

“Gladly, but your sorry ass is too scared to do it, so I fill in when I can.”

Noah crosses his arms. “Not scared of him, just to be clear.” He jerks his chin in my direction. “Scared of her when she finds out I’ve been meddling behind her back. You must have a death wish, Huxley.”

James frowns in the direction of Emily, who seems to be losing ground with the crowd. The college boys are getting too rowdy. And although she’s doing a good job of reminding them to back up and wait their turn, I can see by the way she keeps stretching her neck to the right that she’s stressed. Her fists ball up now and again too. I look around for some kind of backup to call for her, but all I see is one waitress walking around looking equally frazzled.

I watch for another minute until Emily turns away from the bar and her shoulders slump. She looks down at the line of emptyglasses and takes a deep breath. The sweat on her back is seeping through her tank top.

“Can y’all finish giving me this shakedown later? I promise to piss myself with fear next time.”

James frowns. Noah looks amused and extends his hand toward the bar in a “go right ahead” motion.

An instinct I’ve never felt before grabs me by the scruff of my neck and drags me heart-first to the bar. I have to elbow a few guys out of the way, but then I slip casually behind the bar, stopping directly behind Emily. She whirls around when she senses the presence of someone behind her, and then I don’t know if it’s in my head or not, but she seems to sigh with relief.

“Jack.”

“I heard it’s rude to turn down an invitation to Hank’s, so here I am.”

She smiles. “Took you long enough to get here.”

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