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Gia, on the other hand, didn’t flinch at my sudden appearance. “You think the sun comes up just to hear you crow, don’t you?”
I had to raise my hand to my mouth and pretend to cough in order to cover my smirk. “I’m not paying you to stand around and bullshit.”
She turned and faced me without backing up. “That’s right. You’re not. Because my shift is over. Signed out with the big tree ten minutes ago. I stopped up at the bar to order a drink before I headed home.” She pointed her eyes down to the twenty sitting on the bar in front of her. “That makes me a patron right now. And, personally, I don’t like the way I’m being treated as a paying customer.”
And there my dick goes again. What the fuck was wrong with me that I liked when this girl gave me attitude. A slow smile spread across my face. “You can always go to the bar down the block if you don’t like the treatment here.”
Poor Riley’s head bounced back and forth between us so fast, and she started to look a little pale. Her eyes had grown as big as saucers. That’s right. Fear me. Teach your little friend to do the same.
While Gia and I glared at each other, Riley stuttered an excuse to get the hell away. “Ummm…I, I…someone needs help down there.” She pointed to the other end of the bar. “I’ll see you in a little bit, Gia.”
“Great,” Gia frowned. “Now you’ve scared away the bartender, and I can’t even get a drink.”
I mumbled a few curses as I walked around behind the bar and grabbed a highball glass from under the counter. Adding ice, I poured some grenadine over it and filled the remainder of the glass with 7-Up before tossing a few maraschino cherries on the top. When I was done, I slid it across the bar to Gia. “Here you go. Your drink. One Shirley Temple.”
“I wanted something harder,” she said.
I want to give you something harder too.
Gia flashed a devilish smile and then proceeded to dangle a cherry in front of her mouth before sucking it in. Watching those full lips close around that little cherry, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked, was better foreplay than porn. It was a good thing I’d moved behind the bar to hide the growing swell in my pants.
Goddamn it. I’m horny as shit.
I needed to get laid. That was the problem. It had nothing to do with Little Miss Cherry Sucker. Steering my eyes away to avoid watching her finish off the cherry, my gaze innocently landed on her rack. Although my thoughts were anything but innocent. For a little thing, she had great tits. Full, round, more than a mouthful. I had the strongest urge to run around the bar and chase her, to see them bounce up and down—find out if they were real. I laughed out loud at what my staff would have thought watching that shit go down.
Clearly, I was losing my mind.
“What are you laughing at?” Gia squinted.
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” I scrubbed two hands over my face and shook my head a few times to snap myself out of it. Then I made a mental note to text one of my hookups after seeing that Gia got home safely. Every summer, there were always a few who were down for a no-strings attached good time. Based on my appearance, women made assumptions. Fucking who they thought I was, made them feel like they were saying fuck you to their rich daddies. I needed to stick to those women and keep my mind out of the gutter when it came to my new employee.
“How was the crowd tonight? Anyone give you a hard time?”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“How about the writing? Get anything done today, Shakespeare?”
Gia pulled a small notebook out of her purse that hung on the back of the chair. She flipped through a few pages. “How do you like the name Cedric for a male hero?”
I arched a brow. “Is he a heavyset black comedian?”
“No.”
“Then it’s a stupid name.”
She dug a pen out of her pocketbook and drew a slash through a word that I assumed was Cedric.
“What about Elec?”
“What the fuck is an Elec? Is he an electrician or something?”
Another slash.
“Caine?”
“Does he kill his brother Abel in the story?”
Slash.
“Marley.”
“Sing reggae?”
Slash.
“Simon?”
“Nerdy dude with glasses who gets beat up a lot?”
Gia sighed.
I swiped the book from her hands and started to read the rest of the list aloud. “Arlin. Aster. Benson. Tile?” I lowered the book and arched a brow. “Seriously? Tile?”
She leaned over the counter and plucked the book back from my hands. “Give me that if you’re going to make fun of me. You think it’s so easy, then tell me some good names for a hero that are unique and strong.”
