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“How long has it been since you’ve been on a date?” she asks.
“Well, uh, Deacon and I had dinner on Monday night, but before that? Two years. Then I don’t even really think you can consider them dates since they were arranged and chosen by my father.”
“Ouch.” She winces. “You don’t talk much about your life before you came here, but something tells me it’s not something you want to relive.”
“You would be right.”
“So you need to think about what it is you want. Are you interested in him?”
“He’s Palmer’s older brother.”
“So? He’s still a man, a gorgeous one at that, and you’re still a woman. I’m not going to try to pretend that I know what you went through, but I do know that you work all the time. You barely ever take time for yourself. Maybe you should consider that when you’re deciding how far you want things to go with the hottie at the bar.”
Glancing at her wrist, Tabitha smiles. “Last call!” she yells. There are only the four regulars who close us down almost every night we’re open, a group of five ladies, who have all tried their luck with Deacon, and the man himself left at the bar.
I move behind the bar to start closing procedures and paying out tabs. The four regulars pay easily and tip me well, something they do each night they’re here. The group of ladies all eye me suspiciously as I take each of their cards and run it through our system.
“Deacon, do you need my number for that date?” Sarah calls out. She’s almost to the door and stopped to turn and look at him.
“Nope,” Deacon calls back.
“Come on, handsome,” Sarah slurs.
“You know that I’m spoken for, but in case you’ve forgotten, let me remind you.” He stands from his stool and moves behind the bar. He wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on top of my head. “I’m taken. Happily taken, and I’m not interested now, nor will I ever be. I don’t need your number. I’m not going to call you, and no, I would never consider anything behind Ramsey’s back. Just stop.”
My mouth falls open in shock, but I quickly close it when I make eye contact with Tabitha, and she motions for me to do so. His arms are warm, and instead of feeling worried or anxious due to his touch, I feel safe and content, and I’d like more of it. More of him.
“I think it’s time for you ladies to go.” Hank’s deep voice startles me.
I try to pull out of Deacon’s hold, but he’s not interested in letting me go. “I’ve got you,” he whispers, his hot breath fanning across my cheek.
“My boss,” I whisper back.
“He’s fine. You’re fine. We’re fine,” he assures me.
“What? It was your employee who started this mess,” Sarah accuses.
“I won’t tolerate any kind of drama or bullshit when it comes to my staff. I’ve been in my office all night. The music was turned off, and I heard it all. Ramsey didn’t start a damn thing.”
“Well, what about him?” Sarah points at Deacon.
Hank steps up next to us and crosses his arms over his chest. Did I mention that Hank is built? We’re talking bouncer kind of built, and he doesn’t look anything close to his thirty-eight years of age. “Deacon is standing up for my staff. He stays.”
“I’m going to tell everyone how you treat your customers,” Sarah declares.
“You do that. Now get out.” Hank’s tone is firm and to the point. He couldn’t give a shit what Sarah says about him or his bar. He wants her gone. With a stomp of her foot, Sarah and her minions scurry out the door. Tabitha is there to lock the door behind them.
“You two have been keeping up on the cleaning all night. Cash out the register, and you can go. I have the At Your Service crew coming in for a deep clean tomorrow. Let me know when you’re ready to leave, and I’ll be sure to walk you out.” Hank nods at Deacon and heads back to his office.
Once Hank is gone, Deacon releases his hold on me. “What can I do to help?” he asks.
“Nothing. I’m going to cash out the register while Tabitha cleans up the last few tables, and then we can go home.”
“I’ll help with the tables.” He walks away and begins to clear one of the two tables and follows Tabitha’s lead taking the glasses to the back and loading them into the dishwasher. By the time they reappear, I have the drawer cashed out and the money in the small safe underneath.
“Yo, Hank!” Tabitha calls out. “Let’s roll.”
Hank’s laughter is loud within the walls of the now quiet Tavern. He appears out of his office, spinning his keys around his finger. “Is the front door locked?”
