Page 4 of Baring it All (Men in Charge)

“You better, and I’m leaving. I can’t wait to have the next two days off. I’m going to turn off all my devices, hit the beach, and sleep.” Barbie is younger than me, not by a lot, and definitely older than Stormy. Fuck, that adds even more. Stormy is twenty-four, rebounding from that dick bag while also dealing with the fallout of her best friend committing a betrayal. Then there’s me, thirty-nine, a bar owner who has never settled down. And who am I dead set on going after? Stormy, my niece’s ex-best friend.

“Be safe. Next weekend, you good to cover? I’ll work the days leading up if you and Jeremy can take over Friday through Sunday.” I’m sure she saw the schedule I hung in the employee break room. I’m not that much of an asshole that I’d assume Barbie would see it without saying anything.

“Yep, just make sure we’re stocked, and I’ll handle the rest.” This is why I won’t piss her off too much. She will take care of everything except dealing with distributors. I get it. She’s making great money, but not enough to deal with assholes who like to stock it on top of the old stuff, leaving us with skanky beer if Nav or I am not here.

“You got it.” Another hour or so, and the two old timers who are at the other end of the bar will cash out. There’ll be another lull for an hour before the after-dinner crowd comes in. Saturday night is a different animal. At least it’s not Thursday, when the college kids come in, drink so much they act like fucking idiots, start fights, and I have to either clean up a mess or call the cops.

“See you later.” Barbie finishes up and then heads toward the employee area. I get back to looking over the bottles, checking which ones need to be replaced before I head to the storage area to restock and figure out what we need. The best thing I did was make this a true bar. No food means one less thing to deal with. The downside is too much alcohol in a person’s body without food, fuck, it makes for a nasty cleanup at times.

“Later. You want me to walk you out?” I ask, already aware of the answer. Barbie has yet to take me up on my offer, but come next weekend, Nav will escort her out when they close down. She knows if not, I’ll fire her ass.

“No, I’m good. Get to work, slacker.” I don’t look up from what I’m doing. It doesn’t matter if I did; she’d be gone, leaving me with two patrons. The only reason we open early is for our regulars. When they quit coming, I’ll re-evaluate our operating hours. Until then, we’ll keep on keepin’ on.

5

STORMY

“Ugh, this is impossible.” I’m sitting on the floor in my living room, laptop on the coffee table while pouring over the Internet in search of a place that has availability within the next few days. I swear the same ones keep popping up; I get excited only to realize I’ve already called them when my mom and aunt were here yesterday, the phone still commandeered. Today is the last day, literally. If I can’t find anything to move into by Wednesday at the latest, I’ll be screwed. Which means I’ll be finding a storage unit and have to move in with my mom. No one wants to move back home after being out on their own for so long. And while my mom and aunt are super chill, it’s still a piece of my independence that will be sliced through. Kind of like a big, fat failure on your forehead, you know, like the one on mine right now. Except this godforsaken town is pinning it all on me. Let’s just continue doing the same for the remainder of this shitty-ass month.

It also doesn’t help matters that my whole way home, I was anywhere but where I needed to be. My mind was on a certain man, you know, the man I shouldn’t want, the man who makes me feel something. And I still have his sunglasses. I guess I’ll give those back to him in a couple of hours when I see him. Griff created a whole slew of nerves that are swirling through my nervous system, a buildup of what could happen—notcouldhappen,wouldhappen, especially because I’d fling myself at him to feel like the woman I know I am. The one who I allowed Zach to staunch. Before my ex-fiancé, I had a few boyfriends, dabbled in various activities, just not sex. I gave my virginity to him, stayed with him, and never once got off with his hands, mouth, or cock. The past boyfriends could at least make me feel desired. So, yeah, it’s been years since I’ve felt the way Griff makes me feel. He makes me feel alive.

“Get your shit together, Stormy,” I mutter under my breath, ready to slam my laptop lid closed. If my vibrator weren’t already packed, I’d go to my room and use the life-like dick to relieve the ache between my legs. The need to unpack it sits close to the surface. I won’t, though, not yet at least. Will I probably tonight when I come back home? Absolutely, especially if Griff teases me. The way he was adamant about him being the one to make my first orgasm with a man happen. My body trembles wondering how he plans on doing so. Will he use his fingers, his mouth, a combination of both or will he say screw it, and take me with his cock. I want to know how he’ll do it, and I want it to be him. My thighs clench once again, clit throbbing, a permanent state of being whenever I think of Griff. The need to be with a real man is at an all-time high.

I click on a new link, finding a website that I’ve yet to see, and man, does it have potential. A two-bedroom, one-bath, close to the salon. A little over what I want to spend, but I can always open my books, take on a few new clients, and be okay. “Please let this work out,” I pray to the apartment gods, fingers crossed, ready to do whatever I can to make this happen. Seven days is not enough time, and had I not been in this self-imposed shelter staying away from everyone and everything, this could have been done a lot faster.

“Knock-knock, Stormy, Stormy,” Aunt Cat, short for Dorothy, says on the other side of the wall, not even bothering to knock. I scramble up from my place on the floor and head to unlock the door before she uses her key. You know, the one that’s supposed to be used for emergencies only. They’ve both done that before. One time I was in the shower, I didn’t answer when they stopped by, and I nearly had a heart attack. There is nothing quite like stepping out of the shower and coming face to face with what you think is an intruder only for it to be your mom. The screaming commenced, and with Aunt Cat rounding the corner, it happened all over again.

“Coming, Aunt Cat!” Luckily, this apartment is small, so in a few short steps, I’m at the door, unlatching the deadbolt and flinging the door open. There, standing beside my aunt, is my mother. Aunt Cat has a smile plastered on her face, arms full of paperwork, and I’m dreading it. They left yesterday with the promise to return today. The timing couldn’t be worse, and yet it couldn’t be better.

“Hey, honey,” Mom says as I open the door further, allowing them access. Aunt Cat kisses my cheek, and Mom brings me in for a hug. “Hey, Momma, did you by chance bring my phone back? I think I found a place, but calling would be easier than emailing.”

“I did. Aunt Cat blocked a slew of people, so you should be good from those who shall not be named. I figured a week without a phone would be plenty of time.” We pull away from one another, and I nod. It’s time to get with the program and start getting out and about again. The rumors are going to circulate no matter what. I’m tired of hiding from the whispers.

“Thank God. Do I want to know what all that paperwork is?” I ask, a different kind of nerves taking over. There’s so much left unfinished. Though I did make calls to see what would happen money wise earlier this week, a lot of the vendors had to get back with me. Deposits would for sure be lost; it’s the getting socked with the full amount of the reception that would cripple me. Zach’s mom wanted the venue at the country club. So, the least she can do is pay for the reception; the deposit is on Mom. So, I’ll pay that back and deal with the ceremony another day. I’ll be paying that for the next forty years. Sadly, Mom is stuck with the cost of my dress and shoes unless I repay her, which I will if my bank account allows it. That’s an inconvenience but nothing compared to the embarrassment. When Zach and Melissa come back, it’ll kick back up again, so wonderful of them, too.

“You’ll want to know about it. My sister, your aunt, has a way of finagling companies. She’s getting you a lot of the money back in exchange for not having to deal with Zach’s mother.” My mother, Evy, short for Evelyn, does a disgusted roll of her shoulders at the mention of Zach’s mother, Laura. The feeling is entirely mutual. Another red flag I woefully ignored.

“Okay, let me make this call, and then we’ll get to it. I’d love to be able to get some of your money back, and if I can’t, you know I’ll repay you,” I tell my mom as she hands me the phone. I don’t bother looking at my screen in case there are more harassing texts and calls.

“That’s enough. You will not pay me back because you dodged a bullet. The proudest moment of my life.” I arch an eyebrow, cross my arms overs my chest, and really look at her. “Okay, fine. Besides you being born and going through all the milestones. The last thing you need is a man like that. Honey, there are way better men out there.”

“And she’s found zero of them, but from what I hear, you and Griff are burning the town down with the smolders he’s throwing your way,” Aunt Cat interjects, setting down the stack of papers on the counter before pulling out a barstool and waving us over.

“As if you have much room to talk, Cat.” This is their normal way of talking to one another; it’s been like this since I moved out of my mom’s house and Aunt Cat moved in. I love that they have one another, but sometimes the antics can be too much, especially if I had to live with them twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

“Alright, I’m going to make a phone call. So, you two, pipe down.” I give them both a pointed look, and they have the nerve to give me an innocent face. I’m on a mission and head toward the small covered patio, hopeful for some good news.

6

GRIFFIN

“Keep your eyes to your fuckin’ self.” I slap the back of Nav’s head when Stormy walks in. The fool can’t even keep his tongue inside his mouth. Shit, neither can half the damn bar. Men and women alike are looking at Stormy, a smoke show of a woman. I watch as their eyes rove from her face to her tits, down her sexy-as-fuck legs, and when she walks by, their eyes are locked on her ass.

“Ah, shit, had no idea. You know what they’re saying about her, right?” Nav asks, eyes no longer on Stormy but on me. My own gaze is locked on the woman of the hour, so I only notice Nav isn’t looking at her anymore in my peripheral view.

“Nav, shut the fuck up. You and Jeremy are on tonight. I’ll have my walkie talkie on, but don’t use it unless it gets too rowdy.” I don’t hear him respond or stick around. Tourist season is winding down. Things shouldn’t get too bad, and I’ll step in if need be. After Barbie left, it was quiet enough for me to place an order for sandwiches, chips, and fruit. I didn’t have a clue what Stormy liked besides tequila. Pretty sure her liver would revolt if I brought out the preferred Patron she drinks. Club sandwiches were the easiest thing I could think of, and it’d be easier for her to dissect if needed. Once the guys came in, I went into the office to put in the beer and liquor order. The last thing I need to before I head out next Thursday is make sure paper and plastic products are stocked in the supply closet.

“Message received, loud and clear,” I hear Nav say to my back. The crowd parts, allowing me to easily navigate. A few nod their heads, some say hello. I ignore all of them. I’m on a one-track mission for Stormy, who is standing near the door, her eyes searching for me. A sweet smile softens her face when she finds me. Gone is her frown. Stormy’s wearing a black tight-fitting top with not even a hint of cleavage, but these fuckers have no problem salivating at wanting a taste. Too fucking bad. They’ll never get that ride they’re after. Her short jean skirt is tight around her hips, showing off legs that were made to be wrapped around my head or waist. My mouth waters yet again. I tuck my tongue inside my cheek to hold off any wayward thoughts that would have my cock thicken in length. Clearly, the head between my legs isn’t willing to sit down and shut up. A vision of Stormy with that sinful skirt around her waist, legs spread open while she’s in my lap assaults my mind. Her top pulled up, bra beneath her tits holding them up for me to wrap my mouth around her taut nipples, one right after the other. Jesus, this woman has my dick wrapped in knots.

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