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“Sounds like a threat, Prez.”
“Not a threat. It’s a fuckin’ promise.”
“Don’t think she’s on board with your plan.”
No, she wasn’t, but she would be. Maybe not tonight, but soon. However, Cage didn’t need to know that. He just needed to stay out of Trip and Stella’s business.
“Not her call.” He needed to go upstairs, to not only get Stella to eat something but have a little conversation. He couldn’t do that and leave the bar unattended. “Now, since your ass is sittin’ in here, need you to watch the bar while I take care of business with Stella. Can you handle that?”
“That an order?”
“Sure the fuck is.”
“Do I get free beer?”
“Yeah. But you gotta stay sober enough to serve a customer if they come in.”
“Then, I got it covered.”
“Good.” Trip went down to the end of the bar and snagged the two bags of food, which were probably now cold.
“How long you gonna be?” Cage asked Trip’s back as he moved toward the storage room.
“As long as it takes.”
“As long as what takes?”
Trip didn’t answer him as he pushed through the single swinging door.
Stella heard boots on the stairs before the door handle jiggled.
Then jiggled again.
“Don’t make me replace this fuckin’ door, Stella,” came through it.
She hesitated. She didn’t want to let him in, but he wasn’t going to simply disappear. He wasn’t the type of man to let a locked door stop him from getting what he wanted.
“Gotta keep pushin’ me, baby, and I got my limits.”
He wasn’t the only one who had them. She moved closer and called out, “Who’s watching the bar?”
“Open the door.” His growl was muffled like he had his head pressed to it.
“Answer me.”
He did with a loud, “Fuck,” then a grumbled, “Cage.”
She hurried to the door, unlocked it and flung it open. As she rushed past him, he hooked her around the waist and forced her back into the apartment, shutting the door behind them with his boot.
“He’s not a bartender,” she complained.
“Neither am I, but I’m sure as fuck he can figure out how to pour a fuckin’ beer.”
“Or drink it all himself.”
He released her and held up the bags of food. “Right now, we’re gonna eat, then we’ll go back down and work the bar ‘til closing.”
She stared at the white paper bags. “Dino’s?”
“Yep.”
She flared her nostrils and inhaled, wondering what he brought.
He grinned and moved toward the tiny galley kitchen. He answered her unasked question. “Two bison burgers, cheddar cheese, pickles, lettuce, tomato, their special sauce... oh, and double the bacon.”
Her mouth watered since she hadn’t eaten all day. “Loaded fries?”
He put the bags down and dug out two Styrofoam containers. The burgers. She didn’t even care if they weren’t hot. He pulled out a large container next. He placed it on the counter and popped open the top.
Loaded fucking fries.
Her stomach growled and her feet moved without her even telling them to.
She snagged a drooping fry covered in melted cheese, sour cream, chives and bacon bits and shoved it into her mouth, closing her eyes as she chewed.
Damn, that was good. She didn’t realize how hungry she had been until now.
The sound of Styrofoam sliding over the counter made her open her eyes again and pop another heavily loaded fry into her mouth.
She opened the square container he’d put in front of her. The burger smelled heavenly, but it was so big she’d never be able to eat the whole thing. But half? She could try.
He removed two more small containers out of the other bag, putting them on the far counter.
“What’s that?” she asked around her third fry.
“Two slices of Death by Chocolate cake,” he told the interior of the fridge as he pulled out two cans of Sprite, popping them open and depositing them on the counter.
“Damn,” she whispered. “That’s their specialty.”
“No shit,” he said, swiping the fourth fry from her fingers and shoving into his own mouth.
He moved around the counter and settled on the second stool, dragging his burger in front of him and the container of fries between them so they could share.
She sank her teeth into the burger and didn’t care some of the juice ran down her chin. It was rare she could go to Dino’s for a meal, but for a small northern Pennsylvania diner, they had made the best homemade food. The new owners made everything from scratch and most of it was locally sourced.
He didn’t say anything for the longest time, which surprised her. So, she took that time to eat in peace, savoring every bite of the burger and fries.
Eventually her stomach cried mercy, since she had eaten not only most of the burger but the fries.
When she was done, Trip finished off her leftover burger and the few surviving fries, then sat back and sighed, patting his stomach. “That shit was good.”
