Dirty (Dive Bar #1)

“I don’t know,” I said. “When you get right down to it, we barely know each other.”


“It’s only for a couple of days. A week at most, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“Are you worried about you or me in this scenario?”

“You,” I said, happy to be hiding behind the sunglasses. Those beautiful blue eyes saw too much. “You could change your mind and feel stuck with me. I don’t want to add to your problems.”

“Lydia, I don’t want to add to yours either. But I do want you here.”

“You do?” My breath didn’t mean to catch, I’m sure of it. It was just an accident. The thought of Vaughan actually liking me thrilled and terrified me in equal parts. He was so hot. And I was so me. But I could pretend to be cool for a temporary period. I could do this. “Why, if you don’t mind me asking?”

With a scowl, he stretched out in the long grass, relaxing, for all intents and purposes. “Can I trust you with something?”

“Of course.”

He licked his lips again, sighed. “Mom and Dad died when I was twenty. I’ve never been here without them. Not for more than a night or two. It just, it doesn’t feel right.”

Hell. My heart ached for him.

“Nell packed up the place, got someone to paint the inside so I wouldn’t feel weird, so it would feel like my own house, I guess. But it doesn’t.”

I sat down cross-legged in the grass in front of him. Picked the head off a dandelion and ran it back and forth across the palm of my hand. “Vaughan, it would be great if I could hang here while I get things sorted.”

“Good.” A slow smile spread across his face. “And I’d really like it if you’d come with me tonight, see Nell’s bar. She’d love to have you there, she said so.”

I scrunched up my nose.

“C’mon. You have to go out sometime.”

“Hmm, bad idea. I think I’ve already filled my quota for public humiliation this year.”

“You’ll have a good time.” He shook his head. “No way Nell’s going to let anyone hassle you in her place, babe.”

“That’s not my name.” The dandelion fell apart on a warm breeze, drifting off to who knew where.

“All right. Come tonight and I’ll never call you babe ever again.”

“Never ever again?” I sized him up over the top of my sunglasses, judging his sincerity.

“You have my word.” With deliberate slowness, he drew a cross over his heart.

The amount I owed the man was big. Huge. But then so was the thought of going out into the public arena and risking death, dismemberment, and some really nasty gossip. Bitches be everywhere. But also, he was right. I did have to go out sometime.

“Okay.” I held out my hand.

He shook it. Then kept holding on, gazing deep into my eyes.

“You’re going to have fun, Lydia.”





CHAPTER EIGHT

I was not having fun. Mostly, I was fighting the urge to puke. Though in all honesty, the state of my stomach had more to do with my hangover than anything else.

The Bird Building wasn’t a mall. Basically, it was a ninety-year-old two-story brick monster in midtown, the ground floor a neat line of retail spaces facing the street. First were a couple of empty shops, the windows covered in aging notices of bands playing in town, lost dogs, street fairs, and the like. Next was the Guitar Den, a tattoo parlor called Inkaho, then the Dive Bar taking up the prestigious corner position.

The Beatles played, filling the warm evening air along with the sounds of cutlery and glassware, the hum of chatter. It flowed through the open windows and doorway of the Dive Bar out onto the quiet street. It looked like they had a decent-size crowd for a Sunday. People flocked to town each summer, but most seemed to stay downtown by the lake. I bet the bars and shops there would be full. Midtown, away from the water, tended to be quieter. More for locals.

With a hand hovering at my lower back, Vaughan ushered me along the sidewalk.

“I’m not going to make a run for it,” I said, yet again tucking my hair behind my ears, straightening out the imaginary creases in my black linen button-up top.

The side eyes he gave me were full of doubt. “The thought never crossed my mind.”

“Liar.”

“The fact that I had to manhandle you out of the car—”

“Signifies nothing more than how very cool I think your car is.”

“Right.” I could tell he was laughing at me on the inside. “Come on, single lady.”

*

Not so subtly, he took hold of my elbow. The muscles in his arms flexed as if he expected some great escape attempt to happen at any moment.

Liking people was a bitch. Same with giving your word.

As we approached the building, I said, “I’ve been thinking about your money dramas. Wondering if I can help?”

He licked his lips. “You’ll pretty much do anything to delay this, won’t you?”