Page 91 of Absinthe Minded

Drunk women hitting on bartenders was an occupational hazard. I’d learned early on it was best not to shoot them down outright. Instead, I laughed and shook my head. “Not until dawn.”

“I could get you off right now.” She slurred her words.

“Your fiancé is about ready to kick your ass,” Jessie whispered in my ear.

I glanced past her to Maggie and wished I hadn’t. The look she gave me could have frozen all nine layers of Hell.

The redhead wrote something on a napkin, kissed it, and pressed it into my hand. “Call me.”

Maggie tossed a rag on the counter. “I need to go on break.”

“Shit.” I tossed the napkin in the trash and turned to follow her.

“Let her go.” Jessie laughed.

“You’re enjoying this?”

“Oh yeah, it’s about time you met your match.”

Ten minutes later, Maggie returned dressed like my cousin. Actually, I’d bet my right nut she’d rummaged through the spare clothes Jessie kept in back. Not that any of that mattered—not when she looked smokin’ in a room full of drunk guys.

The short denim skirt barely covered her ass, and she tied theGot Beads?tank top in a knot to show off her midriff. Not only was she showing serious skin, she’d applied makeup. The look would have seemed slutty, but the little temptress had woven her hair into twin French braids. Fuck me, she looked like a cross between a rocker-Barbie and a schoolgirl.

Thank Christ she didn’t change out of her combat boots.

On second thought, the shit-kickers look hot. Too dammed hot.

She smirked, returned to her station, and got to work.

“Maggie.”

She ignored me. Smiling, she tucked a twenty into her bra and poured a drink.

I pulled her to the side. “What are you doing?”

“Working on the kids’ college funds.”

She’s paying me back for the redhead.“I don’t like it.”

She twirled a braid around her finger. “You don’t like it?”

I freaking died. How in the hell did she expect me to work with a raging hard-on? “No. You look…distracting.”

“Then don’t look at me.” She turned and took another order.

Oh, hell no. I wasn’t about to let her get the last laugh. She might have changed her clothes, but this was Maggie.My Maggie. She was more comfortable in a pew than on a pole.

I scooted past her and grabbed her ass. I don’t mean a pinch. I mean I slid my hands under the denim and took two handfuls.

She yelped and turned to me as if dumbstruck.

“Get back to work.” I motioned to the waiting customers.

* * *

Closingtime had come and gone. Stressed, and exhausted, I wanted to go home. Unfortunately, everyone else wanted to hang around the empty bar and gab about my life.

I sat between Leo and Maggie and watched with rapt fascination as she attempted to open a locked set of handcuffs with a bobby pin.

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