AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Jake sneers at my choice of topic. It’s not a secret that his daughter is his soft spot. She’s also the only—and safest—subject we can agree on. “Why do you care?”
“Sydney is my student.” A fact that grates on his nerves and brings me pure delight. His little girl is proof that one piece of him isn’t completely rotten, small as that sliver might be.
“You teach her to twirl and point her toes for an hour twice a week. That’s not vital for her education.”
The dig is a brutal strike, but my smile doesn’t falter. “She loves to dance. That’s why you’re stuck paying me for classes.”
“Wouldn’t hear the end of it otherwise.”
The victory is slight and feels petty. My skin crawls in the lull that follows. Some days, it’s difficult to remember what I ever saw in this man. Then there are others where I struggle to reinforce our boundaries. Maybe there was an unflattering motive behind asking Garrett to hire me. Pressure lodges in my chest and I gulp for a decent breath.
“Excuse me,” I mutter.
A break from the tension is required if I’m going to survive this shift. I trot off to check on my other customers. The crowd isn’t too thick thanks to the falling snow.
After closing a check and grabbing two refills, I circle round to the one I can’t stray too far from. I tell myself the magnetic pull is just an instinct to hold my ground. Jake doesn’t intimidate me. This is my turf too. Besides, I have a job to do.
“Can I get you anything else?” Such as a swift kick off the stool he insists on occupying.
Before Jake can answer, his phone buzzes on the counter. I’d heard the thing rattle against the wood on and off for several minutes. He ignores it, keeping his gaze firmly trained on me. There’s a brief pause where I tap my foot in time with the country song that’s blasting from the speakers. Then the vibrations begin again.
“Aren’t you gonna get that?” I point at the lit screen of his phone on the counter. It doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.
He still doesn’t drop his stare. “I got Kade handling it.”
“Oh? I figured you’d be taking the lead on towing this evening.” My eyes shift to the front window, where I can see his garage’s truck parked along the curb.
Jake takes a swig from his beer. “Gonna tell me why you felt the need to get a job at this bar in particular?”
“If you tell me why it bothers you so much,” I quip.
“This is where I come to unwind and relax. I can’t do that with you”—his large hand flings in my direction—“hovering nearby.”
I laugh to cover my sputtered exhale. “Careful, or you’ll make me feel special.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The force from his unwavering focus shifts away from me. His gaze roams over the other people in my section along the rail. I follow his drifting attention to three guys who aren’t shy about ogling my ass. The trio appears to be near my age, mid-twenties or so. Cute enough to consider. Not stingy with tipping either, which is a bonus in this new gig. They notice me looking and raise their drinks in a synchronized motion. I reciprocate with a wave, which earns me triple grins.
Roosters has a no-frills vibe that appeals to a certain crowd of the male variety. The painted brick walls are cluttered with sports memorabilia and beer signs. Oversized booths frame the sides while an assortment of tables are scattered across the wide room. The bar section is monopolizing, staged front and center. There isn’t a fancy cocktail menu or excessive food options. But we’re popular with the locals.
A wistful grin blooms as my attention sweeps to the dining area nestled in the far corner. On busy weekends when the crowd gets restless, if Garrett and the other owners are in a good mood, a portion of that space gets cleared for a makeshift dance floor. Those nights are my favorite. Other than that, it’s pretty basic.
“Bent Pedal is better suited for you,” Jake cuts in.
I huff and tack on an eye roll at his suggestion. Not that there’s anything wrong with the posh establishment farther down Main Street. Rhodes and Rylee Walsh are lovely, as are their adorable kids. But Roosters is closer to home—in more ways than one.
There’s no doubt my smile is smug. “I’m here to stay. Deal with it or feel free to leave.”
Jake’s glare manages to find another level of intensity and I nearly shiver. “You’re doing this on purpose.”
“Doing what? This bar and town are big enough for both of us.”
Although, I can silently admit it isn’t easy seeing him daily. There are a handful of happy memories between us. That was before he ripped my heart apart and stomped on the remains, of course. I cringe at the pain I’m still harboring in my dampened spirits. That was years ago.
He reads my pinched expression like a picture book. A smirk dipped in malice tilts his mouth. “Sure about that, Pitch?”
“Nice try,” I chirp. With added effort, I smooth my features into an impassive mask. It’s not like I’m going to reveal what that old nickname does to me. “I’m not stooping to your level. There’s nothing for us to fight about.”
