Dirty (Dive Bar #1)

Joe grunted understanding.

Joe appeared to be a mountain-man-bartender crossbreed. A Viking throwback, maybe. He was a big guy with big shoulders and a big blond beard. Clearly, there were far more northern Idaho sex gods than I’d given the region credit for. Further classifications were going to be required. If Vaughan topped the super-cool category, then maybe this new guy should win on the lumbersexual front. Given my abrupt return to singledom, I’d have to give this important man-classification system more thought.

Disclaimer: Objectifying people is wrong and stuff.

“Hear you’re hired,” said Joe to Vaughan.

“Yep.”

“Get on the right side of the bar, then.”

Vaughan laughed and did as told. Obviously, the bar itself was old and original. Names, dates, and every other marking imaginable had been scratched into the polished wood over god knows how many years of service. This place had real history. It was a decent-size bar, running alongside one of the interior walls. Behind it were shelves full of liquor. Every kind imaginable. Hidden down lights lit up the glass bottles beautifully. Below this sat a long row of beer taps; all the options were mind-boggling.

Clearly, the Dive Bar took its booze seriously.

“Hey, sis,” said Vaughan, lowering his voice.

“What?”

“Be nice.”

“I’m always nice.” Nell patted me on the arm, before turning back to her brother. “Don’t worry, your new girlfriend is safe with me. Right, let me quickly run you through the price list.”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” I said for the sake of anyone listening. “We’re just friends.”

“Yeah?” Joe scratched at his chin. “I’m single too.”

“Really?” I asked, immediately feeling embarrassed by how shocked I was.

The big guy shrugged, giving me a what-can-you-do look. “Working nights, place like this…”

Huh. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t meet a lot of women tending bar?”

Swear to god, there was a dimple hidden in that there beard. “I meet a lot of women. Not necessarily the kind you want to take home to Mom, you know? Not necessarily the kind looking to meet Mom either.”

“Not that there is anything wrong with that.”

“Absolutely not, ma’am.” Joe started checking me out with renewed interest, dark gaze lingering over my lady bumps. But as brawny and manly as the dude was, his being Vaughan’s friend and coworker made him a complication. Whatever happened between now and me putting this town in my rearview mirror, it would not involve complications.

Over my dead curvy unwed body.

“Sorry,” I said. “I’m not looking to meet, or not meet, your mother right now. Just got out of a bad relationship.”

“Heard about that,” he reported matter-of-factly.

“Yeah.” Ugh. “Awesome.”

“Did you really climb an eight-foot-high fence in heels and a wedding dress?”

“It was closer to six.”

The man puffed out his lips. “Still … impressive.”

“Thanks.”

The Beatles changed into the Arctic Monkeys and the scents coming from the kitchen were making my mouth water. Garlic, beef, food in general, all good things. Despite the music, I was reasonably certain everyone in a two-block radius heard my stomach rumble.

“Joe will be with you all night, ask him anything you need,” said Nell, wrapping up her brief tutorial.

“Right. Thanks.”

The two shared a smile.

“Remember what I told you about Lydia.” Vaughan gave his sister a serious look. “Don’t get her wet or feed her after midnight. She turns into this weird growly psycho animal. It’s not good.”

“I’m not a Gremlin,” I said.

“Wait.” With great drama, Vaughan smacked himself in the forehead. “My bad. It was tequila that did that. You can get her wet and feed her as much as you like, Nell. Just keep her away from tequila.”

I subtly scratched my cheek with my middle finger.

The jerk grinned while Joe snickered. Honestly, Nell was right. The sooner all men were sent to colonize the moon, the better for everyone.

“Anyone actually working here tonight?” A short dark-skinned woman dressed in a black Dive Bar T-shirt stood farther down the bar, tapping her talons on the stonework. She and Vaughan nodded to one another with familiarity.

“Any sign of Stella?” Nell asked her.

“No,” the woman answered. “My fellow waitress is still M.I.A.”

“That girl’s about to be out on her ass. I don’t care how great Eric thinks she is with the customers. Oh, Rosie, this is Lydia,” said Nell. “Lydia, this is Rosie, one of our waitresses. She’s been with us from the start. She was also in the same year at school as Vaughan. Say hi.”

“Hi.”

“Delaney’s runaway bride?” Rosie’s eyes lit up with interest. “I’ve been hearing about you all day. Is it true you climbed a ten-foot-high fence topped with barbwire?”