“Not if you’re gonna pull out the big guns,” Jagger says with a wink. I shake my head and move toward the bar. Our group is too damn big to sit at the bar, where Ronnie is serving patrons. We’ll have to find a table where my eyes can stay on hers. I’m rethinking this whole bringing the guys along now.
“Be right back.” I disentangle from the group. The heavy beat of music bounces off the walls. So many band posters are plastered on the walls and ceilings, not so much of an inch of paint can be found. On top of the prints are neon sings for beer and liquor. The tables and barstools look like they’ve been around since the seventies or eighties yet are still in decent condition.
I walk toward Ronnie, and when I see the tip of her tongue touching her upper lip, I realize she’s deep inthought. Her eyes are on the cash register, one of those old school styles where you have to punch in a number instead of the new point-of-sale systems. Talk about a relic and making shit harder on you than necessary. No wonder it takes her so fucking long to get home at the end of her shifts.
“Foxy,” I grab her attention. I’m greeted with a megawatt smile, and then a look of wonder asking why I’m here without saying a word.
“Jude.” She doesn’t come around the bar. Instead, Ronnie moves to the side, launches herself over the worn and wooden top, hands going to my shoulders, and lays the sweetest of fucking kisses on my lips. It’s one hell of a greeting, even with the cheeks of her ass hanging out in the reflection of the mirror hanging behind her. I’ve got not one single fucking problem with the way Ronnie dresses. It’s all these other fucks getting to look at my woman.
“What are you doing here? I’m not off for another few hours.” I give her my signature smirk. She has no idea that I’m addicted to her a whole hell of a lot more than the candy I keep in my pocket.
“Know that. Also couldn’t stay away. The guys would like to meet you, whenever you get a minute. Lennie is going to try and make it, too. The rest of the girls are pissed they couldn’t come, but cigarette smoke and being pregnant isn’t a great combination.” Her eyes soften with happiness. She more than likes that answer.
“Is it bad that I’m glad you’re here?”
“Not at fucking all,” I respond, wishing like hell I had her all to myself.
“Good. Do you know what everyone wants to drink? I’llget that sorted and make my way over once I’ve got everyone else settled, too,” she suggests.
“Foxy, I got no clue what they’re in the mood for, but they’ve got two fucking legs and a mouth. They can come place their order at the bar,” I grunt out my response.
“Jude, don’t be ridiculous. I’ll be over in a minute to figure out what they want, because, you know, I’m kind of the bartender and server, the only one tonight.” I look around, noticing she really is on her own, and I’m pissed that I left her here to begin with. My only saving grace is the bar back in the corner who also works security.
“Doesn’t mean I want you doing all the work when they can get off their asses, too.” Ronnie rolls her eyes at my statement.
“Fine, if they don’t place their own order by the time I finish my refills, then I’ll get them at the table. Now, what do you want to drink?” She already knows I don’t drink but not the reason why. We’ve yet to delve that deep, I’m sure it’ll come up sooner rather than later. What she hasn’t done is ask the reason why or pry. She takes me exactly like I am.
“Coke with lime, please.” Ronnie is still leaning across the bar, and my hand cups the nape of neck, squeezing it for a moment before letting her go.
“You got it.” We part ways, and she gets straight into work mode. Meanwhile, I have a hard time moving so much as an inch. I’m too busy taking in the way she works the bar, handling it like she has her whole life, probably because she has. She talks to a couple of old timers, a few younger groups of people are busy talking, and right when I’m about to head back to my friends, a guy walks through the door.
“Veronica!” My hackles rise with unease. I’m on edge watching as this plays out. I square my shoulders, cross my arms over my chest, and let Ronnie take the lead,for now.
“What, Joey?” She doesn’t bother looking at him, too busy working on drinks. Whoever this is must not be worth her time.
“Your brother said close early tonight. Eleven sharp.” The crowd collectively raises their heads, probably ready to say some shit about only having another thirty minutes or so when they planned to be here longer.
“Tell Zane to stop making you his message boy. I’ll close when the hours on the door say I’m closing. That’s at midnight.” I relax when realization hits that Ronnie has this handled.
“I’m not his messenger, but good luck telling him that yourself.” Ronnie’s response is to flick him off.
I turn around, locate the guys, and head their way. There’s a barstool facing the bar, giving me a bird’s eye view of the place, the same thing any of them would do if it were their woman working at a bar.
“Your girl does not mess around.” Tysen, the pilot of our group, says as I take my seat.
“Yeah, she’ll fit right in, and with the group getting bigger, it won’t be long until we’re outnumbered.” Trent runs his fingers through his hair, still in his uniform from work. Dress shirt, slacks, and police badge on his hip.
“I think we already are with the twins being born,” Asher says like the proud father he is. His job as a firefighter makes his schedule hectic, and it’s a damn good thing he’s got a good wife in his corner.
“Touché,” Matthew agrees, getting up from the barstool. “Going to order a beer. What do you all want?” The guys give him their order, mine is already with Ronnie, and I remain quiet.
“This a forever kind of thing?” Johnny asks. He owns a club, Undercover Lovers for the public and Night Moves for an exclusive group where inhibitions are dropped.
“Fuck yeah, it is.” Luke nods his head at my response. It wasn’t long ago that he fell in love with Shae. She’d been a pseudo patient at his obstetrics and gynecologist office. Things unfolded, and now they’re tighter than tight. We shoot the shit, update one another on work since I’ve been gone for the past four days, and I input my two cents when needed while they do the same.
“Alright, I think I’ve got everyone’s order.” Ronnie approaches with Matthew. He’s carrying his beer and nothing else. Fucking schmuck. His mom would kick his ass if she were here with us.
“Thanks, Foxy.” I help her distribute the drinks as she hands them to me. “You already met Matthew, the lawyer of the group and all-around asshat.” I send him a scathing look.
