Twenty-four
Roxy stood behind the bar Saturday night, slim arms folded across her chest and her legs widespread. Her black frame glasses were slid up, resting just under the perfectly messy bun.
Her eyes were narrowed into thin slits and the bitchy jut to her chin was cute. I’d told her that a few minutes before, when I’d hit the bar to get beers for the group of guys in the back, and she hadn’t thought that was cute, which made her look more bitchy.
And cuter.
The victim of her death glare was Aimee with two e’s. For the fourth night in a row, Aimee was here, sitting at the bar with a friend who sort of looked orange. Roxy had nicknamed the friend Oompa One.
I had to grin because the death glares were for my benefit. Aimee was actually pretty nice to Roxy and even me, but she made it obvious why she was here, and Roxy was so not down with that.
Every time Jax came behind the bar, Aimee monopolized his attention when she could. And like every night before, he must’ve been ridiculously funny about things, because not a minute passed where Aimee wasn’t laughing loudly. Or flipping her hair over her shoulder. Or leaning on the bar, giving Jax and Roxy at times a clear shot at her boobage.
And every so often, like the last four days, Jax would catch my eyes, give me a look, and I wouldn’t care about Aimee sitting at the bar, doing everything possible to get some return flirt action.
Then again, I figured Jax could put an end to Aimee’s attempt by telling her he wasn’t available. I mean, we hadn’t given each other labels, but we were together in every way we could be together.
And . . . and I loved him, so whatever. We were together.
He hadn’t said those words to me, but I hadn’t, either. And I wasn’t going to think about that right now or make a big deal out of it. In spite of all the stuff, I was actually kind of happy and it was Saturday with no sign of Mack.
I would not ruin this.
Taking the order of Old Bay chicken wings to Melvin’s table, I grinned at the old man as I placed the basket between them. “Here you go. Anything else?”
“We’re good.” The skin around his eyes settled into deep grooves as he grinned. “As long as you give us another one of those smiles.”
I laughed. “You old flirt.”
He chuckled as he snatched up a chicken wing. “If I was twenty years younger, you and I would be cuttin’ up that floor.”
An eyebrow rose. Twenty years? I’d have to go with double that, but what he said made me smile and also made me say, “Whenever you want to dance, you let me know.”
I almost couldn’t believe I said that, but his dim eyes seemed to glimmer. “I’ll do that.”
Sending him another one of “those smiles,” I turned and started toward another table where their glasses were looking empty, and before I knew, I stole a peek up at the bar.
Roxy was full-out dragon bartender, shaking a cocktail shaker so hard I expected the contents to fly around the bar. My gaze shifted to where Aimee sat and my eyes widened.
What the . . . ?
Aimee was practically sitting on the bar and her hands were on Jax’s cheeks, on his cheeks. She was cupping his cheeks. Anger pricked along my skin, but something small and icy and ugly formed in the pit of my stomach, and that small and icy and ugly thing caused my chest to clench in a not pleasant way. Because why—why in the hell—would she be touching him like that and why—why in the holy hell—would Jax be allowing that?
Before I knew it, I was starting toward the bar. I had no idea what I was going to do when I got there, but I was sure it was not going to be pretty and I might regret it later, but screw—
“Hey, girl.”
I came to an abrupt halt at the sound of the familiar voice. Disbelief thundered through me. No way. So caught off guard, I tore my eyes from Aimee and Jax and spun around. My jaw hit the floor.
Jase Winstead winked.
Jase freaking Winstead was standing here.
Jase—member of the Hot Guy Brigade—was standing in the bar.
“Surprise!” Out popped Teresa from behind him, all tanned and gorgeous.
My gaze moved from Teresa to Jase and then behind them, and I almost fell over dead. They weren’t alone. Cameron Hamilton—the president of the Hot Guy Brigade—was with them. So was Avery. He had one arm over her shoulder, tucking her close to his side in the ridiculously adorable way of theirs.
Jase chuckled. “I think we’ve shocked her into silence.”
“Oh my God,” I said, blinking a couple of times. “You guys totally did. I had no idea.”
“That’s why it’s a surprise.” Teresa glanced over her shoulder at her older brother and his girlfriend. “We decided to come up spur of the minute. I’ve missed you!”
Then she sprung forward and hugged me. I did miss her and I was happy that they were here, but as I pulled back and Teresa started telling Jase about how she never knew I could use a tap, let alone mix a drink, I realized that they really knew nothing about me. At least nothing that was true.
Holy shit, my house of lying cards was about to bitch-slap me in my face. The only thing I had going for me was that Jax knew about the lies I’d told. He’d probably be conscious enough not to bust me out.
But still, I was a big liar, liar, panties on fire.
My heart rate kicked up. Besides the fact they thought my mom was dead, this could be potentially disastrous if more bodies ended up flung in my direction or if someone said something in front of them. I thought of the adorable couple from Wednesday who’d unwittingly heard all about Rooster’s demise.
I suddenly wanted to run through the bar screaming at the top of my lungs.
“So Teresa was telling us there is a guy you’ve been dating?” Avery asked.
“What?” My mind was elsewhere, still stuck on picturing bodies falling from the ceiling, along with bags of heroin. It would be like raining dead people and dope.
“A guy,” Teresa said, loping her arm around Jase’s waist. “You said his name was Jax. You guys went out to dinner? He works here? Ring any bells?”
“Oh. Yes.” I sounded like an idiot. My hand fluttered to my hair and I brushed it back behind my ear. I noticed that Teresa blinked at the movement. “He’s here. He’s um . . .” I turned toward the bar.
Oh no.
Roxy had gone from dragon lady to fire-breathing weapon of mass destruction and Jax was still behind the bar. And Aimee with an i and two e’s wasn’t on the bar anymore, but she had her hands on his chest, pushing on his chest like she was feeling his pecs.
“The guy who’s getting a mammogram?” Jase asked.
I swallowed, but my throat was dry as a desert during high noon.
Cam moved forward, bringing Avery along with him. “It’s not him, right?”
Oh my God, my friends were here and they wanted to meet Jax and Little Miss Poconos Aimee Grant was currently fondling him.
Teresa was looking around, searching for another guy, but there was only Roxy and she didn’t look like a dude, so . . .
As we all stared at the bar, Jax stepped back, out of reach of Aimee, and said something that she laughed at like he was the second coming of Tyler Perry.
“That’s Jax,” I said in an odd voice.
Jase looked at me, tilted his head to the side, and then glanced back to where Jax was. “Is that so?”
Oh no.
The sound in his voice said he was going to somehow change the fact that the guy was Jax.
I vaguely wondered how weird it would be if I climbed under a table and started rocking.
Jax looked over then and his lips split into a grin when his eyes connected with mine. That grin didn’t last very long, because Jase put his hand on my shoulder, and when I looked behind him, Teresa wasn’t wrapped around him like a sexy octopus anymore.
His eyes narrowed.
This was all about to go downhill.
Jax started around the bar, which caused Aimee and her friend to wheel around like they were on a turntable, but he prowled past them like they didn’t exist.