Page 78 of The Runaway and the Rugged
“I’ve never worked in a bar setting before, but if you’re willing to teach me?”
“He is,” Greta answered as Shane narrowed his eyes with a glare. “You are. If you help Emelia out, I promise I’ll start to listen better.”
He snorted out a laugh.
“You’ll listen better?” He laughed. "That's like sayin’ I’ll ease up on watchin’ over you.”
Greta’s mouth fell into a flat line.
“Please, Shane? I rarely ask you for any favors.” She poked her lower lip out while Shane followed the move closely.
Were they into each other, were they not? I couldn’t figure it out, their dynamic was too strange and fierce for me to understand.
“You always ask me for favors, besides, I was already plannin’ on sayin’ yes before you opened your damn mouth.” He pulled himself away from the bartop and grinned for the first time. His hands went in search of something, then soon pulled out two fresh cold bottles of beer and slid them over to us.
“Be good, no showin’ those tits, Taz,” He barked in warning before peering at me. “I’ll see you next Saturday? Six o’clock, and wear comfortable shoes.”
He sauntered off in the direction of the other bartenders.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, and turned to focus on Greta who was busy staring at Shane’s ass.
“Asshole,” she grumbled, swiping the beers from the counter. “Come on, Emelia, we got some hell to raise.
I had Greta’s phone.
Probably shouldn’t have it, but I do, and all I wanted to do was talk to Garth. I had four, maybe five beers, and only now, seconds later, did it hit me that I was drunk.
I haven’t been drunk in years!
Greta was busy dancing, having the time of her life out on the twinkling dance floor while I sat at a corner table, scrolling through the contacts in her phone until I stumbled across Garth.
Giggling, I started a new message thread.
Me (Greta’s phone): Wish you were here :(
Tapping send, I immediately regretted it.
Me (Greta’s phone): Pretend you didn’t read that.
Moments later a text came through.
Garth: This ain’t Greta.
God, I was an idiot. Of course he knew it wasn’t her.
Me (Greta’s phone): You’re right. I’ll give you a guess, I’m considered someone who has broken the law.
Garth: The fuck? Give Greta her damn phone back and tell her to call me, now.
Shit.
Me: It’s me! Outlaw, Emelia, trouble, whatever you want to call me.
Garth: Why didn’t you just say that? I had my truck keys ready and everything.
I giggled.
Garth: Wait, are you all right? Did something happen? You said you wished that I was…
