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Will
Logan appeared out ofnowhere, tapped me on the shoulder, and spoke into my ear. “Abbie needs to see you.”
I glanced at him, but I was mid-pour, the woman on the other side of the counter was mid-pout, and the noise made it hard to make out his words. “Huh?”
He jerked his head to the rear of the bar, and as soon as my customer sighed with resignation and walked away with her drinks, he shouldered me aside. “Abbie told me to cover you. She needs to talk to you or something. She’s gone out back.”
“Now? What does she need?”
This was the busiest night I’d ever had at The Stop. I’d been working non-stop for more than eight hours, running on fumes and kept upright by adrenaline, and there was no time to take a break, but if Abbie was pulling me away at a time like this, it had to be important.
Logan held up his palms. “Don’t ask me. I’m only the messenger. She said not to make her wait.”
He leaned over the bar to better make out the next person’s order before straightening and pulling out a white wine glass. He’d worked at The Stop before, so he knew how things operated, and I didn’t mind leaving him to hold down the fort for a few minutes.
Confusion led to concern. Was something wrong with Seb? I pulled out my phone, and though there were no missed calls or texts, it didn’t relieve the anxiety. Nothing seemed to ease the constant hum of apprehension in my body these days. If I wasn’t concerned about Seb, it was the bar or the future of the brewery, which had to wait until after I got through the tournament, of course. And if it wasn’t one of those things keeping me up at night, it was Abbie. Not always in a bad way—I’d take sex over sleep any day—but I wasn’t kicking goals in the boyfriend department either.
After quickly washing and drying my hands in the little sink behind the bar, I disappeared into the kitchen.
Noa looked up at me with surprise. “Need something, boss?”
“I’m looking for Abbie,” I said, looking around. She obviously wasn’t there. “Did she come through a few moments ago?”
“Not that I noticed.”
I considered going straight to the loft to see if she was there, but Logan specifically mentioned that Abbie was waiting for me out back. “That’s okay. She might be in the service hallway.”
If Abbie was waiting for me in a stuffy old corridor, something had to be wrong. There was nothing back there but a dark, narrow hallway ending in a tiny office that I used as a storage room, which meant whatever she had to tell me, she needed to do it privately.
I hurried through the kitchen and stepped into the hallway, then closed the door behind me and switched on the light. I scanned the long space. Abbie waited at the furthest end with her back against the storage room door, arms crossed, and oneleg bent so she rested her foot on the door. She wore a tiny blue dress that I’d always admired and heels that made her bronzed legs look a mile long. Her hair fell in soft, sexy golden waves around her face. I was convinced she got more gorgeous every day.
I drew close enough to notice a tiny smile on her full, painted mouth, and when I didn’t sense urgency or agitation from her, my own anxiety receded enough that my dick twitched with appreciation. I slowed my pace to appreciate the view as she brought her margarita to her mouth, leaving a kiss of red lipstick on the glass.
“Logan said you needed to see me,” I said, closing the distance and setting my hands on her hips. “Is everything all right? There’s nothing wrong with Seb, is there?”
She hurried to swallow her sip of margarita. “I texted your mother ten minutes ago. Seb is divine, as always, and already asleep for the night.”
“I appreciate that. Thank you.” I skimmed my palms over the fabric of her dress, the tension and tiredness from a day spent run off my feet slipping away. I sighed and dropped my forehead onto hers. “It feels good to stop for a few minutes. Thanks for dragging me out of there.”
Her free hand ran up my back, the familiar warmth both comforting and arousing. She hummed as I dipped my head and kissed her, sweeping my tongue against hers and toying gently with her lips. She tasted like salt and tequila andher.
“Mm,” she moaned before pulling away, then she collected the front of my shirt in a tight fist and yanked me closer. “My intentions aren’t honourable here, Kidd.”
“Oh, yeah?” The memory of what happened against the window that afternoon flashed through my head, and I grinned. “Here to finish what we started earlier?”
“You might say that. I’ve got a score to settle.”
“A score?” I set my palms on the door on either side of her head, caging her against the rough timber, and smirked at the fire in her eyes. “What kind of score?”
“There’s a woman out there telling everyone you gave her your number.”
My heart jumped into my throat. “The fuck? I didn’t—”
Abbie set a finger to my lips. “Shh, babe. I know. I’m not here to ask for explanations. I’m here to cross a square off my bingo card so I can shove it in that girl’s smug, insufferable face.”
My fingers flexed on the door, muscles cording up my arms. “I’m sorry about that. It’s fucking ridiculous.”
Abbie cast her eyes to the ceiling, but there was irritation beneath her casual facade. “I know. It’s madness.”
