Knocking Boots - Willow Winters Page 0,5
small town where people think they can get away with this shit.
“Citrus and peach tonight?” I ask Grace.
I set the glass in front of her and wipe my hand off on my faded blue jeans. Her slender fingers brush against mine as she takes the glass with both her hands.
“Sounds delicious to me,” she says with a hint of a blush to her cheeks. “I need it.” I cock my head at her, waiting for her to elaborate.
“Things going okay?” She asks as her brows pinch, and she looks past me to the swinging double doors Mags went through. “Not that I’m trying to change the subject or anything… you just seem like something’s off.”
I shrug and lean my hip against the bar as I pick up a rag to wipe things down. I let out a deep breath and try to shrug it off, but Grace looks at me pointedly, taking a sip and smiling before setting the glass down. I don’t know why, but it makes me smile too.
“It’s really good,” she tells me and sways slightly. She does that, rocking gently when she decides to get comfortable.
“A new hire didn’t show up is all,” I answer Grace without thinking.
I’m relaxed as I do a quick scan, making sure no one’s glass is empty and I’ve taken care of everyone so far who’s come in. Rick will be here soon to help and with Mags in the back we should be good for tonight, but the last two hours have been hell doing it all on my own. The wet rag in my hand glides down the bar easily, soaking up the spilled beer. I sealed and lacquered the oak bar myself. This bar is my baby. And James doesn’t respect it, or his job.
“Uh oh,” she answers playfully and I give her a scolding look that grants me a laugh from her. “I’d be pissed too,” she says finally.
She smiles into her glass when I grunt a response and prepare another beer for a customer in the back.
My gaze lifts to Grace’s as she hums; her warm breath creates a fog on it before she takes a sip. She moans soft and sweet, loving the taste. I know it’s an innocent move on her part, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t make my dick hard as stone.
Grace has got something about her that makes her easy to talk to. Maybe it’s because she’s not from around here, so I know nothing I say is going to be used against me later on. People in this town talk, and it drives me up the damn wall.
It takes a moment to drop the beer off and ask the other patrons if they’re doing alright or if they need anything.
“You going to fire him?” she asks when I finally get back to Grace.
Her fingers slip up and down creating a line in the dew of her glass. I don’t think she’s doing it intentionally, but that simple innocuous movement is making my already hard dick twitch with need. I’ve had plenty of nights to try to take her home, but those nights have held conversations about what she’s looking for in a man and how she’s finally wanting to settle down.
AKA exactly the reason I don’t want to take her home. It would kill me if we hooked up and she had regrets about it. We’re friends in the making. Nothing more.
My head shakes at her question; I don’t trust myself to speak. I wouldn’t fire James. His aunt was one of my teachers all throughout high school. His parents live not five houses down from my parents. Little shit knows it, too.
“Well maybe you should make him wash the dishes when he comes in then,” she answers with a shrug that makes her buttoned-up blouse slip open just slightly. “Or have him rearrange all the boxes in the back?”
I can’t help that my eyes dart down to her cleavage even as I chuckle at her suggestion. It’s a modest top, probably perfect for that office job she’s got. But right now, it’s giving me a teasing glimpse and I want to see more.
“I am-” I tell her as I see Mickey waving me down. “Soon as he gets in here, no bartending, all dishes and grunt work.” I’m half playing, half-serious. The grill in the back needs to be scrubbed down, along with all the equipment, and that’s James’ payback. That and I have to cut back his