Page 19 of Courageous Hearts

Clearing my throat, I reluctantly tell him, “I’m all done.”

“Right,” he replies, the warmth of his palm disappearing as he takes a step back.

Once I hit the ground, Jameson swoops up the ladder before I can protest. He heads off toward the back hall, biceps popping under the crisp white fabric of his shirt.

“Damn,” I mutter to myself once he’s a good dozen feet away, my eyes unwittingly roaming from his arms over to the broad, strong lines of his back.

Jameson comes to a stop before he reaches the hall. “Uh, where does this go?”

With a chuckle and shake of my head, I set off after him. Jameson maneuvers the ladder into the storage room once I open the door, and then he brushes his hands off on his pants.

“So, no show tonight, huh?” he says conversationally, leaning against a shelf and crossing his arms.

“Nope,” I reply, mimicking his pose across the aisle. “Just dolin’ out drinks.”

It is Wednesday, after all. Today and tomorrow are my usual serving shifts.

Jameson nods, and his eyes flick briefly down my body. “I like the outfit.”

My cheeks heat in an instant. “Yeah?” I ask, glancing down at myself.

I’m wearing high-waisted, wide-legged black trousers and a black suit jacket, cropped short to fit the style. It’s open in the front, leaving the midline of my chest on display, and although I love the outfit and its play on masc/femme style, it’s definitely one of my more daring looks. Although I always feel safe expressing myself at Gertie’s.

When I glance back up at Jameson, his eyes flit away quickly, and his Adam’s apple bobs. Before I have a chance to wonder at his reaction, he shoots me a little smile.

“We should probably get back out there,” he says.

I nod, pushing off the shelf, and Jameson follows me out the door. “Back to the grind,” I mutter, nearly facepalming. Back to the grind?

Jameson seems unfazed. He simply says, “Yep,” and then shoots me a casual wink that nearly fries my brain.

Ungh. Does he have to be so dang tempting?

Jameson and I split at the bar, him heading behind it while I make my way to the other end to check in with Dee. I didn’t realize she’d be here this early tonight.

She lifts her head and smiles as I approach. “Hey, babycakes.”

“Switch a shift?” I ask, leaning against the bar.

Dee grabs a lowball glass and starts mixing what I can tell is going to be a Shirley Temple. “Andrea called in sick, so I’m covering for her. Here,” she says, plopping a cherry into the glass before sliding it my way.

Dee knows the drink is my favorite.

“Thanks,” I tell her, taking a sip.

“By the way,” she says before dropping her gaze to my chest and whistling. “Damn, baby.”

Coughing, I glance up, checking to see if anyone overheard. Jameson looks toward us curiously before heading off with an empty drink tray.

“Bo, you are too pure for this world,” Dee says, shaking her head and smirking. “You can strut around like no one’s business in those outfits of yours and be sassy as hell doing it, but one simple compliment and you’re bashful as can be.”

“Y’know I’m not good at hearin’ stuff like that,” I say quietly. Dee knows me better than most. Except for maybe Cooper and Will.

Dee’s face falls slightly. “I know. Because you haven’t heard enough of it.”

I don’t respond, instead fiddling with the stem of the cherry in my glass.

“Bo,” Dee says, holding my eye when I finally look up at her. “You are lovely. You are beautiful. And you are worthy of hearing it, got me?”

---