Southern Secrets (Southern #7) - Natasha Madison Page 0,15

billiard room. "I’ll be right over," I tell them, and one of them holds up his hand with two fingers, so I know to bring them two beers.

I fill the orders and then rush back to bring them drinks when a table of girls signals me over to give me their mixed drinks order.

I get back behind the bar when I feel someone next to me. "Hey," Asher says, going to wash his hands. "What’s going on here?"

"When did you get here?" I ask, shocked that he is drying his hands and then walking down the bar toward the end to grab the empty glasses and put them in the gray dirty bin.

"Thirty minutes ago," he says.

I finally look at him when he walks back to the end of the bar. "Um, what are you wearing?" I ask as I start to mix ice and tequila. I press the blender, and he looks over at me, and I notice how small his shirt is.

"This"—he points at his whole body—"is all Quinn’s." I throw my head back and laugh. Turning and watching him, his black hair looks like he just ran his hand through it. His eyes are a soft brown but turn green when he’s in the sun.

"It’s a little bit of a tight fit," I say, and he looks over at me, and I wink at him. "How about you bring this to the girls so they can keep ordering drinks?”

He shakes his head. "Not on your life." He walks over to grab two shot glasses. "I walked in with them, and all I heard were cat noises," he says, and I place the drinks on the tray. "I’ll make sure this is taken care of."

"Thank you," I say. Finally, at ten o’clock, the last person walks out, and I look over to see that he’s wiping down the tables.

Jill comes over to me and hands me the black money bag. "Sports room is all clean."

"Thank you so much, Jill." I smile at her. "See you on Friday."

"I’m covering for Dolly tomorrow. She already called me," she says over her shoulder. "See you later."

I clean behind the bar, and when I look back up, Asher is taking the glasses to the back and setting them in the dishwasher. "I don’t know if I can repay you," I say when he comes back out, and I finish counting the till. "This is for you." I hand him the white envelope.

"You aren’t paying me for tonight," he says, and I laugh.

"Good to know," I say. "But that is your share of the tips." I move the envelope. "Come on, you earned it."

He shakes his head. "I owed you from today." I tilt my head to the side, confused. "You let me stay at your house."

"Oh, that?" I shake my head. "That wasn’t a favor. After smelling you, it was …" I don’t have to finish the sentace when he starts to laugh as he leans against the bar, and he looks exhausted. "How was today?"

"Exhausting," he answers.

"Where are you staying tonight?" I ask, and he looks down and then up.

"You don’t have anywhere to stay."

"I was just going to stay in the truck," he answers honestly. I’m expecting him to argue with me and come up with an excuse. What I’m not expecting is what comes next. "Trust me, it’s not the worst place I’ve ever slept." My heart shatters in my chest with just that one sentence.

Chapter 7

Asher

The words leave my mouth with a laugh, and I watch her eyes the whole time. I wait to see if she will look at me differently. Her eyes never leave mine, and they never change. "I’ve seen the inside of that truck." She shakes her head, and I have to literally catch my breath at her beauty. I noticed her the minute I started working at the farm. I also knew I wasn’t going to disrespect the family by going after her. So I keep my distance and watch her from afar, hoping like fuck no one notices.

"When I was fifteen …" I want to slap my hand in front of my mouth to stop it from talking, but with her, all I want to do is to keep talking, just to be with her. "My foster brother, Ryan, and I found this couch in one of the alleys." I shake my head, thinking back to that time. "We had both decided that we were not going back to our foster home."