Zeb rubbed his hand over his beard and scanned the busy bar. “What’s going on tonight?”
Dixie shrugged which sent her strawberry-colored curls dancing. “The band is one of Jet’s finds. Whenever he sends a group in they pack the house, and Asa isn’t here to tend bar because he’s trying to move into his new house, so it’s just Danny, who is pretty new, and this totally new guy Zack. They’re both okay but not as fast as Asa is. I should call Rome, but with Cora being pregnant and about to pop I’ll only do that in an emergency.”
She rattled off the list of familiar names that made up the group of men and women my brother claimed as his own. I nodded like I was following along and tapped Zeb on the shoulder. “You try and find a table. I’m gonna go wash my hands before we eat.” I needed I minute to pull myself together as well. My mask was slipping and the woman trying to peek out from behind it was starting to take over my entire life.
He nodded and moved away as I started to push through the crowd of people blocking my way to the restroom. I was brought up short by a light touch on my elbow. Dixie’s dark brown eyes gleamed up at me with all the romance and heart I was lacking.
“So you and the mountain man, huh?” The question was innocent and not all at the same time.
“I’m helping him out with some things and that led to us spending a lot of time together.” That was about as much of a lawyerly no-answer as there was when it came to the status of my relationship with the big, bearded man.
Dixie giggled, and really the only person who could get away with giggling like that as an adult and still make it look cute and sexy was this little firecracker of a woman. “He’s wanted to spend time with you for a long time and I always thought the feeling was mutual. Well, whatever it is, good for both of you. I love it when good people find each other even if they don’t seem to fit. That makes it even better in my book.”
Her gaze shifted toward the burnish-skinned bouncer and then back to me.
“Make each other happy. That’s all that matters. I have to go pick up an order and yell at the new guy to get his ass in gear. If Zeb finds a seat I’ll take a Coors Light to the table for you.”
And just like that, she scurried off, and I resumed my battle to get to the ladies’ room. I had never been to the Bar when it was so crowded, and I wasn’t sure what kind of crowd it actually was. There seemed to be a lot of young, college-aged kids milling about who I assumed were here for the band that was playing later. There was also a big group of men and women dressed similarly to me who had clearly stopped by for an after-work cocktail, and then there was a hodgepodge of other folks who looked like they had just randomly chosen any old bar to stumble into off the street.
I picked my way around noisy patrons and pushed into the bathroom. I had to wait in line once I was inside, and for once I didn’t feel like the odd man out because I knew the woman in front of me was wearing a Mauro Grifoni pantsuit that was way more expensive than anything I typically wore to work. It was also a really pretty shade of slate blue, and before it was my turn to disappear into a stall and do my business, I bookmarked the page on my phone where I could buy one for myself. Slate blue was pretty and it was colorful. Slate blue wasn’t a neutral color at all, and if I went ahead and bought it there would be no hiding it as a guilty pleasure when I wore it.
I was putting my phone back in my purse when I bumped into someone in the narrow hallway. I put my hands up to brace myself and looked up into the hazy and obviously drunk gaze of the man I ran into. He was half in and half out of his suit. His shirt was unbuttoned to the middle of his chest even though he still had on a tie knotted up toward his throat. He swayed on unsteady feet and took me with him since he was still holding on to my arms.
I gave him what I hoped passed for a friendly grin instead of a grimace and repeated, “Excuse me,” as I tried to shake him off.
“Aren’t you a pretty thing . . . and so tall. I bet your legs are fucking incredible.”
I recoiled automatically at the slurred come-on and put some real effort into trying to pull free from him. I was annoyed that other men and women coming in and out of the bathroom didn’t bother to say anything to him.
“I have someone waiting on me. You need to let me go—now.” I put extra emphasis on the last word and gave him a solid shove in the chest. He grunted and curled his hands tighter into my arms, which made me yelp. I was going to have a collection of bruises left over from this encounter for sure.
“I don’t want to let you go. I want to give you a kiss.” He was so sloppy and drunk that all the words smooshed together and we almost fell again as he leaned toward my face.