AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Or maybe it was the alcohol. I’d only had two shots, but perhaps they were extra strong.
“Does Harvard give refunds?” she asked, her lip quirking.
I laughed and ran a hand through my hair. “Despite some evidence to the contrary, they’re wicked smart.” I glanced back. “Maybe not always in the common sense arena. But otherwise, trust me, IQs off the charts.”
“Hmm. Well,” she sighed. “It takes all kinds.”
I smiled and our gazes clashed, something moving between us that I’d never once experienced in all my thirty-three years. It confused and intrigued me.
She cleared her throat. “So, ah, turn left at the end of this block, go up the hill four blocks, and Mimi’s house is the second on the right. You can’t miss it. It has a bright red door.”
“Thanks,” I said, and for some reason, I couldn’t get my damn hand to push the door back open. It was like my arm muscles had ceased to follow my brain’s orders. Our gazes lingered and it seemed like she wanted to say something, her mouth opening very slightly before falling shut again.
“Thank you,” she said, waving her arm in the direction of the last of the lingering customers. We didn’t break eye contact though, our gazes holding. “For taking such good care of my patrons.”
I didn’t want to say goodnight. Which was ridiculous. I didn’t even know her. I was only here for the night…in fact, if we got up early, I was only here for a few more hours.
But, ah, the things that could happen in a handful of hours…
I hadn’t had a one-night stand in years. I wasn’t interested in that anymore.
Still, I opened my mouth to speak…to say what? To ask what? The words hadn’t exactly formed when I heard a loud sound from outside that either meant someone was experiencing bodily injury or vomiting violently.
“You better put them to bed before someone falls over the railing and drowns.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. Well, goodnight, Cakes. And…it was a pleasure being bamboozled.” The crazy thing? I actually meant it.
She laughed. “It was nice meeting you, Ivy League. Be well.” Then she pulled the door open for me and I walked out into the night, the smells of sea and salt and old wood filling my nose. I glanced back at the bar and for just a moment, our eyes met again, before she turned away.
CHAPTER FOUR
Rory
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and help with the rest of the cleanup?” Sherry asked, stifling a yawn.
“The cleanup’s virtually done, Sher,” I said. “And you’ve already worked over time. Go home to Bud.”
“Bud’s been passed out in his recliner for hours.” But the affection in her voice told me she was still looking forward to seeing him, snoring or not.
“Go home and help him up to bed. You know how his back gets if he stays in that chair too long.”
She gave me a weary smile but didn’t argue. “I hope you’re not planning on staying too much longer,” she said as she removed the elastic band from her orange-blond—but mostly orange—hair and shook it loose.
“Not too much longer. I just need to count the register and bake a quick batch of cakes. We’re out.”
Sherry’s dark brows rose, her expression morphing into concern. “Shouldn’t you leave the baking to Eli?” she asked. “Last time you used the oven—”
“The fire department helped us out in a jiffy,” I said. “Plus, I just got distracted. I won’t do that again.”
“Well, okay,” Sherry said dubiously as she removed the apron tied around her waist. “Just…have the fire extinguisher at the ready.”
I let out a laugh as I gave her a small push. “See you tomorrow. Lock the door behind you.”
“Will do. See you tomorrow,” she said as she turned for the front door.
I did a few more minutes of pickup and then ran the vacuum, feeling unusually blue for the end of a shift. Our part-time dishwasher had run the machine after the kitchen closed so I gathered the last of the glasses and set them on trays on the kitchen counter to be loaded in the morning, going about the work slowly and distractedly.
I wandered over to the pool table and racked the balls, and then hung the sticks back up on the wall. My head tilted as I recalled the way Ivy League’s eyes had tracked my movements, watching my expression closely with each interaction. He was obviously a man used to being in control of every aspect of his life and so it’d been particularly satisfying to throw him off a few times. At the thought of the man who’d arrived in the bar doorway earlier that evening, soaked and steaming, my ribs tightened, and I felt a minor version of that pull I felt when I stared out to sea.
