Page 4 of South of The Skyway

Laughing, I soaked up the last rays of sunshine and wind in my hair, keeping the beat with my palm against the side of my truck as the bridge was swallowed by the city. This was going to work. Everything would work in our favor as long as we trusted our intuition. My intuition? It couldn’t wait to order a pint and a plate of cheesy potatoes and see what kind of local flavor I could find.

I finally arrived at the pub just as another truck pulled away from the curb, opening a valet-worthy space for me. Grinning, I swooped in, turning up The Beatles and allowing my eyes to rest as the last trace of sunshine dipped below the horizon. I stepped out, grateful the parking was free this late, and grinned at the sound of a drum solo and raucous laughter pouring from the black front doors.

This was going to work.

THREE

BREXLEY

If an Irish pub and a cigar lounge did the nasty, the resulting love child would likely look a lot like The Three Leaf. Aged brick walls kissed weathered wood floors, long tables took the place of individual gathering spaces, and the barstools lining them were always full of bystanders waiting for their turn. The booths were full to the brim with laughing patrons. Honestly, the whole ruckus was just a bit overwhelming while somehow maintaining a semblance of calm.

Noel’s obligatorygirls’ nightshad become expected about once a month, maybe every other during the busy season. I appreciated their company as much as I could when they insisted on gathering in establishments with more semi-contained percussion solos than places for soul-deep conversation.

“So, how’s business?” Josie was most empathetic and likely to abscond from the chaos and talk about shit that mattered. I liked her, although I could never remember to actually instigate a get-together to bask in her brilliance, despite perpetually promising myself I would. She had a way of making everything look fashionable, and tonight was no different. Josie elegantly emphasized her glittering hazel eyes with an understated lilac shadow that caught the low lamplight. Her onyx curls were dramatically swept to one side, fingers consistently running through her shiny mane again as she looked between us expectantly.

“It’s been great,” Noel chirped happily, dipping a fry in her leftover tartar sauce.

“Staying busy?”

“Sold out of four authors before Wednesday this week,” I said with a smile, absently stirring the straw between ice cubes.

“Of course, business is good,” Vallie said pointedly. If every group had a ringleader and a cheerleader, Noel was the latter and Vallie was the former. She and Josie were two years ahead of us at university, and took Noel and I under their wings. I’d tried to resist–stay in my little bubble–but good luck arguing with the captain of the debate team. It was no shock to anyone when she kicked law school’s ass. She rolled her deep brown eyes, muttering, “Your barista is as hot as the coffee she’s serving.”

Noel cackled into her cup, setting it down with a little more force than was strictly safe as her face cracked into a grin. “You could finally say something, you know? Wrenly is newly single, not psychic.” Wren managed the coffee shop side of The Cracked Corset, and had been Noel’s right hand woman for the last two years.

Rocking her drink around its rim, Vallie shrugged. “The timing just wasn’t ever right, you know?” She fluttered a defensive hand, shooing us away. “And she’s too good for a ‘scraps after the firm’ kind of life. We’re busier than ever.” The duo had danced around flirtations at the shop since we opened, both in and out of relationships, always with the wrong person at the wrong time. But Wren had dumped her most recent boyfriend a few months ago, and the posse had been joking about taking bets on who would finally say something. When she shot me a desperate gaze in a rare plea for assistance, I smirked but changed the subject, turning to Josie as she slipped her phone back into her pocket. Checking on the kids, inevitably.

“How about you? How’s the agency?”

“Boss still a bitch?” Vallie quirked a brow, sipping pointedly as her shoulders relaxed. Josie snorted, nodding. The two had been inseparable since their freshman year in high school, adding Noel and me on like designer bags they couldn’t leave behind when our dynamics collided. Where Josie was all quiet contemplation, Vallie had been born to lead. She was so freaking clever, always a dozen steps ahead, so by the time someone had thought to ask a question, the answer was already on her tongue. It’s what made her such a formidable opponent in the courtroom.

“That won’t change,” Josie admitted. “But honestly, as long as I work from home, it’s not so bad.”

“Psst,” Noel hissed, nudging me in the ribs.

“Ow,” I complained, scowling at her as she jerked her chin towards the door.

She snickered, smirking but keeping her eyes on the entrance. When I followed her gaze, I spotted the cause of the distraction.

“Hot damn,” Vallie murmured. She quickly threaded her fingers through her black and purple goddess braids, running her tongue across her teeth to check for stowaways. “Found me a tall glass of water.”

“As if,” Josie said, chuckling into her cocktail, eyes flicking up. She lurched like she was trying not to choke. “Dibs.”

“Nah-nah, Brexley has birthday month dibs. End of.” Noel grinned, quirking her head sideways like she was assessing an asset.

“In my dreams, maybe,” I scoffed, using the back of my chair to twist around for a view, craning my neck to get a peek past the table in front of us. I immediately wished I hadn’t, as the air leaking out of my lungs dried out my mouth. We all studied the mountain of muscle poured into fitted jeans and a sexy as fuck Henley, top button undone. “Even then, he’d probably say no,” I muttered to no one in particular.

“I hate birthday months,” Vallie said under her breath, earning chuckles around the table.

The six-foot-two dreamboat boasted a crown of luscious golden waves above sun-bronzed skin, dark ink peeking out of one rolled sleeve. When his eyes landed on our stretch of the table, we all shifted, returning stiffly to stilted conversation as heat crept up my cheeks.

“Oh. My. God,” I mouthed breathlessly as I turned back to the table, finding Vallie’s gaze on me, a flush beneath her warm sepia skin. We both broke into nervous laughs, ducking our heads and sucking down alcohol like our lives depended on it.

The man’s smile had been as blinding as the Florida sun.Good lord, did he burn my eyeballs?Might as well have for all the clarity I could gain from my new surroundings. Josie was the first to recover, clearing her throat.

“Anybody tune into the game last night?” she asked as the others readjusted their drinks, everyone shifting as we brought our attention away from the newcomer. “Rhodes made the game-winning drive.”

“You and freaking Paxton Rhodes,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. She’d been fangirling over the Chicago quarterback for three freaking years, her enthusiasm not dwindling as the novelty wore off. “He walk on water again this week?”

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