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“Zaley Cuppencia! Is that you?” someone called, and I turned around to see the owner of the only hotel in the area, Miss Elizabeth, drinking a G&T with the quilting ladies.
“Hey, Miss Elizabeth. Hi, ladies.” I gave them a warm smile and tried not to feel a pang that Ma wasn’t with them. She’d loved the quilting circle, though she said they hadn’t actually made a quilt in fifteen years. They’d drunk a hell of a lot of gin, though.
“Child, it is so good to see you. Come over here so I can give you a hug,” Miss Elizabeth ordered. I cast a quick look at Xander, who just lifted his chin toward the bar and skedaddled before he was dragged into old lady hugs too.
As soon as I was within grabbing range, I was pulled into a long round of embraces and questions. How was I doing? How was college? Had I seen Minerva’s great-nephew around on campus? He was the handsome one. Did I have a boyfriend? That question was coupled with a few raised eyebrows at Xander at the bar.
I answered their questions, relieved that they couldn’t sense anything different about me. Maybe I could pull this off. I smiled at the last question in particular. “No, no boyfriend, I’ve been too busy. I’m just staying with the guys while I’m visiting town.”
“And what brings you back exactly?” Miss Elizabeth asked, and I froze.
Fortunately, I was saved by Will. “We’ve been begging her to come and see what we did to the bar. We used to sneak into the cellar and drink the fifteen-year-old beer that Old Frank was too cheap to throw out, even though it tasted like poison.”
I snorted. “That beer was manufactured the same year I was born. I’m not sure how we didn’t die.”
The whole table cackled like a bunch of old hens, and Miss Elizabeth slapped the back of her hand against Will’s chest. “Of course you did. Trouble used to follow you four around like a cloud. It's good to see you all together again. I know Zaley was so sad when you just up and left.”
Will gave her his wide, disarming smile. “Old news, Miss Elizabeth. Everything turned out how it was supposed to. Zaley, your lunch is ready.”
Considering I hadn’t ordered anything, that was a marvel, but I took the life buoy he was throwing me and extracted myself from the group, promising I’d see them again before I left.
As I walked toward the bar, I took in the changes they’d made. They’d installed booths along the back, and put in another large window to let in the light and brighten the previously dingy corners. Tall tables dotted the other side of the room, and they’d refurbished the old pool table. They’d even sanded back and restained the bar top until it gleamed.
“You guys have done a great job dragging this place into the twenty-first century,” I told Victor as I sat on a stool at the bar. He had a dish rag over his shoulder and his hair was slicked back, giving him a suave, fifties greaser look coupled with his tight white t-shirt and jeans ensemble. He looked edible. And his pants were so tight, I could see the outline of his cock.
Fuck. I dragged my eyes back to his, and he stared at me with a challenging smirk on his face. My cheeks flushed, and I quickly turned to Xander, who was eating onion rings beside me. “Thanks for abandoning me, asshole.”
“Zaley, I’ll protect you from just about anything, but you’re on your own with that lot. They scare the shit out of me. I somehow always end up on blind dates with granddaughters or out-of-town great-nieces.”
I gave him a condescending pout. “Poor baby.” He thrust the onion rings at me, and I stuck one into my mouth with a grin. Then a moan. “Holy shit, these are great.”
Victor grinned, and Will kissed my cheek. “Thanks, Za-Za. The secret ingredients are pancake mix and dijon mustard.”
I flushed at the feel of his lips on my cheek, the casual intimacy they were throwing around like we were just picking up where we’d left off nearly half a decade ago. Stuffing another onion ring in my mouth to cover my embarrassing need, I took my time chewing and getting my body under control.
I looked at Victor, whose nostrils were flaring. His eyes were filled with so much heat, it was a wonder that I wasn’t lighting up like a Roman candle.
Swallowing before I choked, I did what I did best, and buried my head in the sand. “Nice bar. Need a waitress?”
CHAPTERSEVEN
The followingweek fell into something like a rhythm. The guys had reluctantly agreed to give me a job as a waitress, mainly because the girl who normally did the evening shift had left earlier this year to become a flight attendant, so they’d been short-staffed for a while. Whatever, I’d take it.
I’d also managed to call my school and get all my coursework sent to me online. I’d still have to go down and sit my exams, but my sob story about my great-aunt who needed help after a fall that broke her hip had plucked at enough heartstrings that it went relatively smoothly.
Xander had mentioned in passing conversation that he normally lived in Calgary, but he was home because he’d been shot while on a job. My stomach fell out my ass when he casually dropped that in conversation, and it had taken everything in me to hold myself back from tearing off his clothes and seeing for myself that he was actually okay, that he was healing, despite his assurances that it was barely a scratch.
But mostly, I didn’t see much of the guys. Both Victor and Will were working hard to establish the Downtown, and Xander spent a lot of time being cheap handyman labor, doing one of the million projects the guys still had to do. I was so fucking proud of them, though it burned that they’d done it without me. Which was completely irrational and selfish.
Tonight was my first bar shift, and I was looking forward to it. I’d spent most of the day catching up on the coursework I’d completely abandoned, cramming for exams that were looming ever closer.
Dressed in tight black jeans and a long-sleeved ribbed shirt, I was as ready as I was ever going to be. I’d found some lipstick in the center console of my car, so my lips were painted warrior red. I pushed through the door, the noise hitting me like a wave.
Back when I was a teen, this place had been a bit of a dump, with mostly the same old regulars and a jukebox that hadn’t been updated since the 1990s. But now there was a band playing in the corner, and people were dancing and laughing. There was another waitress chatting with customers and bussing tables, and she looked a year or two older than me. Her face was familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on her name.
“Zaley!”
I turned to see Will waving at me from behind the bar, and I slipped between the customers to reach him. My heart still did a pirouette in my chest every time he looked at me like that, with a smile that said I was the most important person in the room. It had knocked me off my feet when I was a teenager, and I hadn’t grown any more immune to it.
