by Nicki Rowe
The One More Shot Series follows the employees of the One More Shot Bar in Seattle, Washington. While I do recommend that you read the series in order, the books are written so that they don’t have to be read in order. However, I do highly recommend reading Alex (Boys of Glensville Book 4) before reading Wally and Gideon’s story, because one of the main characters was introduced in Alex, but again Wally and Gideon’s story is written so that you don’t have to read Alex beforehand.
The Marshall Siblings Series will follow all three Marshall siblings, and is a continuous series. All three books should be read in order, starting with Gideon and Wally’s story.
I really hope you enjoy my new series. Feel free to leave any reviews and feedback at your favorite websites, such as Goodreads and Amazon. Reviews really help out Authors!
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Happy Reading!
Copyright 2019 by Nicki Rowe. All rights reserved.
This story is a work of fiction. All names, companies, events, organizations, etc are the imagination of the author or are used fictitiously.
March 2017
Chapter 1: Gideon
My new apartment smells like cheese and feet, I think to myself as I sit on the laminate floor, surrounded by still packed boxes and eating Kung Pao chicken out of the container with my fingers because the delivery guy forgot chopsticks and there’s no way I was looking through my ten-thousand boxes for forks.
It’s been two months and twenty days since I told my good friend and former mentor, Curtis Hines, that I would buy his vet clinic, Paws and Whiskers, from him. It had been a long process of legal documents and trying to find a place in Seattle that was close to the clinic, but vibed with my style and personality. The apartment that I had picked--while it did have a slight cheese and feet smell--was actually very beautiful with its exposed brick walls, quartz countertops, stainless steel appliances and dark laminate floors.
It’s been a week since I had signed the lease and moved all my shit in, and I still hadn’t unpacked anything other than my clothes.
I don’t even have a couch.
“We should get you a couch,” Anthony Palmer, one of my closest friends comments, as if he suddenly has the ability to read minds.
Anthony and Alex Rhodes, my best friend, had came over that afternoon to help me unpack, but all we had managed to pull off in three hours was unpacking my clothes, hooking up the TV and ordering Chinese food.
Alex and I weren’t very good at being productive, and Anthony learned long ago that we were never going to listen to him, no matter how much he tried to be the father of our friend group.
“Let’s go get a couch then,” I say, closing the container of Kung Pao chicken and licking my fingers clean.
Anthony and Alex head out the door as I put our leftovers in the fridge. They’re halfway down the hall by the time I catch up with them.
Anthony and Alex are like my brothers, an upgrade from my biological brother if you ask me. My real brother is a dick, with a capital D. Benjamin takes after our father in that regard. Dear old dad was the mayor of Dickville, but I can’t really blame Benjamin for being a pompous asshole--he was born that way.
I can still remember how red my father’s face got when I told him every single dollar they had ever given me had gone into purchasing Marshall’s Kennels and Clinic in Glensville. He had nearly busted a artery. He would be pissed if he found out I had purchased another vet clinic and lived in a smelly one bedroom apartment.
Besides my sister, Amber and my Aunt Noreen, I didn’t really get along with my rich, pretentious family.
Outside, it’s cloudy and misty. It’s always cloudy and misty in Seattle; it’s part of the reason why I love Washington so much.
I lead Alex and Anthony to my 2006 midnight black Jeep Wrangler that I’ve had since high school. We pile in and I find my favorite station, which played all of the greatest hip-hop hits.
Alex and Anthony strike up a game of “What Would You Do?” as I drive.
“Alright, Ant,” Alex says, turning around in the seat next to me to look at Anthony in the back. I glance up into the rearview mirror to see Anthony making a sour face at the nickname. I will never understand why he hated being called anything other than his full name. “The world is ending in forty-eight hours and you can do anything you want before it ends, what would you do?”
I look up again to see Anthony thinking really hard about his answer. His face is all screwed up in concentration. He always takes the game too seriously. Hell, Anthony takes everything too seriously.
Finally, he replies, “I would go to Hawaii and watch the end of the world from the beaches of Oahu,” he pauses, “and definitely have sex with a hot local. What would you do, Alex?”
“I would spend it with my parents, Dec and Luck. I don’t need anything else.”
I roll my eyes at his sappy answer which earns me a punch to the arm. Ever since he had started dating Declan Jones and Lucky Dickson he’s been walking around like a big old heart-eye emoji.
“What would you do, Gid?”
“Binge watch Dragon’s Eye.” I say with a smile. The fantasy franchise is one of our favorites that we had discovered while living together, even if Anthony likes to claim that he doesn’t love the movies as much as Alex and I do. He has Dragon’s Eye memorabilia, so….
They both hmm in agreement and nod like that was the best answer that anyone has ever come up with, because of course it is.
We pull into the parking lot of the furniture store and climb out of the Jeep. There’s an empty shopping basket in the empty space next to us; I grab it and push it at Alex.
“Get in.”
Alex looks at the cart with a raised eyebrow, and then at me. He crosses his arms as Anthony starts listing off all the reasons why this was a bad idea. I ignore him. “No way,” Alex says.
“Come on, Rhodes. Get in. Remember when we did this in college?”
Alex snorts and shakes his head, but climbs into the basket. I push him towards the store with a running start.
“Faster! Faster!” he screams like a child.
We’re getting looks from people in the store, but I really don’t give a shit. Anthony walks ahead of us, furthering the distance between us and him.
We walk around the store for an hour and a half before I find a couch that I like. I’ve always hated shopping for furniture, I had this weird thought that I would like it in the store and then hate it when I got home and be out a ton of money. But finally, I find a black sectional that I’m persuaded into buying by Alex because it’s, and I quote: “soft and bouncy.” I also find a new coffee table and a few fake plants to brighten up the place. I will never allow myself to buy real plants; I know they’ll be dead within the week.
After we get a date for the couch and table to be delivered, we leave the store and head in the direction of One More Shot. Immediately, I feel my body tense and begin to buzz. My stomach clenches into knots the closer we get to the bar.
Is he going to be there?
“Wally’s going to be there,” Anthony says.
When the fuck did this dude become a mind reader?
“I would hope so,” I reply, deflecting my nerves with sarcasm, the world’s greatest coping mechanism, “he owns the place.”
A thump on the back of my chair has me howling with laughter, but I sober when Alex and Anthony fist bump behind me.
“He asked me about you on our last bike ride,” Alex chimes in.
My heart stutters in my chest. “Oh?” Did that sound casual enough?
�
��Yeah. He asked if you were seeing anyone.”
“What did you say?”
I catch Alex’s smirk out of the corner of my eye. “Told him the only person you’re seeing is your right hand.”
“You did not!” I yell over Anthony’s cackling. “Dick, I’m left handed.”
That only makes Alex and Anthony laugh harder. “I didn’t say that, but I told Declan and Lucky later, and they thought it was hilarious.”
“Yeah, well, they have to think you’re funny, they love you for some reason.”
“They do,” Alex replies, his voice going all sappy again.
Even though I constantly give Alex shit about how mushy he has gotten since he found Declan and Lucky, I’m extremely happy for him. They were way better than his asshole ex, Oliver Blake. Or Blake the Snake, as I had liked to call him in college.
We pull into a parking spot a few blocks from OMS--all the parking near the bar has already been taken--and then pay the meter.
Worst part about living in the city? Paying for parking.
Anthony walks ahead of us as Alex and I start goofing off by pushing each other with our shoulders to see who can bruise the other, which of course gives me the bright idea to belt out “Baby, Come Back” at him at the top of my lungs while Alex brays with laughter beside me. Embarrassing Anthony in public is one of our favorite pass times.
We enter the bar and I nearly stumble back by the shockwave of cheap perfume, sweat, beer and salty peanuts that assault my nose. The majority of the clientele at OMS are bikers that are part of the LGBTQ+ community and scantily dressed women, but it wasn’t unusual to find a few hipsters, businessmen and women or college kids gathered around the tables. The walls are wooden and have metal signs hanging from them that say shit like: ‘Caution, Watch for Bears’ and ‘Otter Crossing’. Inside the bar is warm, but there’s an electric current in the air that draws my gaze to the counter.
It isn’t very busy, so it’s easy for me to find Wally pouring drinks and laughing with the female bartender, Lacey Vega, who’s standing at his side. He looks up as the bells over the door jingle over our heads, and his easy smile grows bigger as his green eyes meet mine. Even with the distance, I can see the shift in his stance, the casual way he leans on the counter and watches as Alex, Anthony and I make our way to a table near the bartop.
“Looks like Wally has his eye on a certain blond?” Alex whispers as we weave our way through bodies.
“Anthony?” I whisper back.
“You’re an idiot,” Anthony says.
I had met Wally about three months prior when I had dropped Alex off to go on his weekly bike rides he took with his partners and the guys from Thorns and Roses Ink in Glensville, and occasionally the crew from OMS. Lacey, Mike, Cason, and Wally’s son, Sam had been nice enough, but I could not have taken my eyes off of Wally no matter how hard I had tried. He had held his hand out to me with a warm smile, and had said, “It’s nice to meet you, Gideon.”
And that was all it took. Six words, and I have been hooked on Wally Pyke ever since.
I take a seat, happily, when I realize my chair’s in the perfect position to see the bar out of the corner of my eye. Wally’s looking at our table, his smile still in place. It’s like I have tunnel vision, everything’s black at the edges and all that’s at the end is Wally’s handsome face.
Alex stands, diverting my attention, to grab a bowl of peanuts off the other table.
Lacey leans over the counter of the bar and smiles. She’s beautiful, and with the track lights shining on her, she seems to glow from within. Lacey’s one of those girls who tries to blend into the background, but it’s hard to be wall paper when you look like you should be a model or an actress.
“Hey, guys, what can I get you?”
“Pitcher of beer, please, Lace,” Alex replies.
“Ginger ale for me,” I say. “I’m driving.”
She smiles again. “Coming right up!”
Lacey turns and says something to Wally that makes the older man smirk and shake his head at her. His eyes find mine again, capturing me in the mossy green depths, and causing my heart to stop and my mouth go dry.
Wally’s a big man. He stands at six-foot-three with muscles stacked on top of muscles, and every inch of him is covered in tattoos, all the way from the five stars on the left side of his face to the letters on his knuckles. I’m ninety percent sure there are several more I can’t see under his clothes, but damn did I want to find out. He’s fifty-seven, twenty-seven years older than me, but looks better than most men in their thirties with his rock hard body and rugged, square-jawed face. He has a long, bushy beard that’s nearly white with a few black strands thrown in the mix, and his hair is that sexy mix of salt and pepper, long on the top and short on the sides. His eyes are the color of green sea glass and full of mirth, but there’s also a sadness in the depths that suggested he has known a great loss.
He’s wearing a green tee and tight dark jeans. If I lean back far enough in my seat, I can see those jeans hugging the shape of his perfectly round ass. Over the green tee he’s wearing a leather vest with silver buttons down the front and ties on the sides.
A peal of laughter draws my attention away from Wally to a table a few feet away where a group of women are getting hammered on some pink fruity drinks; one of the woman is wearing a pink sash with the words ‘Bride-to-be’ on the front. I turn my attention from the bachelorette party and back to the bar so I can continue eye fucking Wally, but he’s gone. I slump back against my seat and shove a fist full of peanuts in my mouth.
Was I pouting? Definitely.
Alex chuckles at me. “You’ve got it bad, Marshall.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.”
“You’re acting like a lovesick cheerleader with a crush on the quarterback.”
I wrinkle my nose at that comparison. “Why am I the cheerleader in this scenario? Need I remind you, I was the quarterback in high school.”
“You’re the cheerleader because your blond.”
“That’s offensive to cheerleaders and blonds everywhere. Aren’t you offended, Anthony?”
“Highly.”
Alex flips us both off.
It isn’t uncommon for Anthony and I to be mistaken for brothers or cousins; we both have the same shade of yellow blond hair, the same blue eyes. Anthony is more slender, and my jaw is more square, but we both understand how people could make that mistake.
The air fills with electricity again, dragging me out of my thoughts. I look up, meeting Wally’s eyes again as he stops at our table. He smiles down at me, and my mouth goes dry. Again. The smell of leather and pepper, supple and spicy, envelopes me, ensnaring my senses and causing my cock to twitch a little in my jeans.
“It’s good to see you again,” Wally says in his rough baritone voice.
“You too, Wally.”
He’s holding a large black tray with a pitcher of beer, two empty glasses, a glass of ginger ale on ice, lime slices and four shots of tequila. With ease, he swings the tray around so that the edge rests on the corner of the table. “I brought you guys some shots,” he tells Anthony and Alex. “On the house. Beer’s half price.”
“Wally, you didn’t have to do that,” Alex says, as he reaches for a shot and a lime slice.
“Shit,” Wally replies with a smile, “you guys are like family. Free shots is the family discount around here.”
I find that I can’t take my eyes off the older man. Wally stands with an easy, effortless grace, yet emits so much power it’s nearly making my head spin. I don’t know if it’s the broad smile, the power, the grace, the smell or what, but I find it nearly impossible to breathe when he is near.
His eyes settle on me, his smile deepening and turning into something that promises dark fantasies and wicked kisses.
Yes, please, I find myself thinking.
He turns back to Anthony. “You still looking for roommates?”
How does he know Anthony nee
ds roommates? I wonder, but don’t ask the question out loud. Instead, I sip my ginger ale and let the electric feeling and the scent of leather and pepper wash over me while Anthony and Wally converse.
Anthony nods. “Yeah, since these guys left me all alone in that big ass house.”
“Hey!” Alex and I exclaim in unison. “I offered to help pay for rent until you found someone!” I gripe.
“And I said I wouldn’t move in with Dec and Lucky until you found someone to move in. You told me to go ahead and move out!”
Anthony’s only answer to our complaining is a smirk. “You know someone, Wally?”
“Jon” Wally corrects, picking up the tray and tucking it into his side. “I met his brother Lou awhile ago, and Jon has been looking to move up this way for a long time, but could never afford living on his own.”
“Are they good people?” Alex asks. “We don’t want Ant living with an asshole.”
“I wouldn’t have suggested him if her were an asshole,” Wally replies. “I met Lou when I was serving in the army, and Jon is a teddy bear.”
“Great!” Anthony says. “Give me his number and I’ll give him a call.”
“Follow me to the office. It’s in my phone on the desk.”
Anthony stands and follows Wally towards the hall where the office and restrooms were. I would be lying if I said I didn’t check out Wally’s ass as he walked away.
Alex laughs. “You’ve got it so bad, Marshall.”
“Fuck off, Rhodes.”
That only makes Alex laugh harder.
Chapter 2: Wally
There’s an odd feeling in the bar after Gideon, Alex and Anthony leave; almost like all the air had been sucked out of the room. It’s something that I have never quite experienced before. I find myself standing behind the bar counter, looking around in an unfocused daze.
“Can I get a refill?” the woman in front of me shakes her empty glass in my face, drawing me back to the present.