Page 7 of His Fate

"Not tonight. I have to be at Kady's by seven so I need to get home to bed." Before he can ask about tomorrow night when he gets out of work, I pull my phone from my pocket and round the bar. "I'm gonna take my break. Be back in fifteen."

I weave through the tables, narrowly avoid getting my ass pinched at least three times and the second I'm out the backdoor I slide down the brick wall and plant on the concrete.

It's sad that at thirty-two the closest thing I've had to a relationship over the last fifteen years is the post shift hook-ups with Travis. Don't get me wrong, he's a good guy, funny, easy to talk to and even easier on the eyes but Travis isn't looking for a commitment and I can't offer one.

I just don't have the time or energy to invest in a relationship. Between working two jobs and taking care of my dad, I'm lucky to have the energy to maintain my few friendships and take care of myself at the end of the day. Hell, I'm lucky if I remember to eat most of the time.

Which explains why I'm thinner than I've ever been, rarely wear makeup, and occasionally sleep with my fellow bartender who is almost ten years younger than me.

Yay me.

A message comes through in our group text and I smile so big my cheeks hurt.

ALLIE:Welcome Daisy Mae! 7lbs, 1oz, 21 inches long!??*selfie of Allie with a tiny baby on her chest*

GRACE: She is incredible! Congrats! I want all the baby snuggles when I'm not puking my brains out.

CASEY: OMG she looks just like you! Look at that hair!

ALLIE: Thank god for that too! After 17 hrs of hard labor she better look like me and not her asshole father!

ME: Congratulations, Al! Daisy is beautiful. Let me know if you need anything and be ready for the Timmons invasion as soon as you're cleared. You know dad won't stay away once I send him that picture.

ALLIE: I just sent it to him and I'm pretty sure he's trying to figure out how to drive his chair down here already!

CASEY: Don't say things like that! You know Posey will haul ass to get home and check on Hank. The bar is slammed and I need her tonight!

ME: That being said, I need to get back. So happy for you, Al. Talk soon. Love you girls.

I stuffmy phone into my pocket as I get to my feet, brush the dirt off my butt then go back to power through the last two hours of my night. And I can't decide if that would be easier to do or not if it wasn't like St. Patrick's Day had an illegitimate love child with New Year's Eve in there.

Or so I thought.

I slow my footsteps as I walk down the hall because the only thing I can hear are my All Stars slapping the ancient linoleum. Seriously. The incredibly loud, annoyingly boisterous crowd has gone completely silent. Even the music stopped.

When I get to the end of the hall and look out onto the floor where the booths and tables are I see that everyone, even Casey, is looking toward the door. So I follow their line of sight and about shit.

Three of the biggest men I have ever seen are standing just inside the entryway scanning the crowd. They're all tall, so tall and wide with various lengths of dark black hair and almost glowing eyes. They're dressed similarly in dark jeans and T-shirts under leather jackets with biker boots on their feet.

They look like some sort of gang, a beautiful gang of terrifyingly fierce monsters among men.

No, not monsters. Gods. They look more like gods among men.

The tallest of the three, which is only by maybe a half inch or so, turns back to the door, pushes it open and says something. When he steps to the side a fourth man walks in, the man from the coffee shop this morning, and my heart skips a beat.

He scans the room just as the others did and when his eyes land on me they flare but he doesn't smile or nod, just stares like I should be able to read his thoughts.

Until Joyce, another of the waitresses who looks like a damn runway model, goes flouncing up to them. She pushes her huge fake boobs up and sways her hips, flips her platinum blonde dye job over her shoulder, and bats her false lashes while she attempts to seat them in her already full section.

Jealousy like I've never known blossoms in my chest as she steps closer to them, to him, and my eyes narrow for a beat before I shake my head and break his gaze. I step behind the bar and start aggressively slicing lemons and limes, annoyed that Joyce is talking to them, more annoyed that I'm jealous and annoyed with her at all.

I don't even remember his name but somehow I feel like he's mine? That's absurd and ridiculous and a little crazy. But I can't help it so I just busy myself with my task at hand.

Someone so beautiful, so captivating should be with an equal, someone more like Joyce and not the frumpy, plain, oddly shaped thirty-two-year-old, old maid who only has time to work and care for her father. The only thing I'd have to offer him would be a quickie in my truck, if he even wanted that and it's just silly to think otherwise.

Still though, I can't shake this feeling that that man is mine and it infuriates me to think of him with anyone else, especially Joyce Ward. That floozy has spread her legs for at least half the town in hopes of marrying money, and once she sinks her claws in those men have no hope of ever getting them back out.

"Who the hell are they?" Travis asks in a whisper as he leans against the counter next to me, arms crossed against his chest as he openly stares. "Never seen any of them before."

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