The Bartender's Daughter

Home > Other > The Bartender's Daughter > Page 11
The Bartender's Daughter Page 11

by Isabelle Flynn


  “We don’t. We didn’t. My mother only comes down for the summer season. She still lives on Beacon Hill. I moved in with Lee after…” Her voice dropped off and she looked away for a moment before continuing, “I’ve only lived with him a few months.”

  She knew his family was wealthy, but still, hearing they had a house in one of the most expensive neighborhoods in Boston surprised her. “Serena said you had two sisters. Where do they live?”

  “They live on the South Shore but summer here with my mother while their husbands work in the city. You know, I’m not surprised my brother never mentioned you to my mom or sisters. They wouldn’t have approved of you.”

  Sam felt her heart drop. The jab was an unexpected insult from Joanna. Of course, his wealthy family would never have wanted him to marry a bartender’s daughter. She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t their approval she needed. “Maybe not.” This time she didn’t hesitate from walking away from Joanna and wrenching the office door open.

  Joanna’s hand on her shoulder stopped her. “That has more to do with my mother and sisters than with you. I’m sure Lee had his reasons for keeping you out of that side of his life. You should ask him, but please don’t use whatever happened between you in the past as an excuse to hurt him now.” Joanna let go and walked away.

  She had to talk to Lee and more than just about the business. He had stormed off, angry with her for doubting him again at her sister’s word. His anger was misplaced. He had to understand how messed up she was, that it wasn’t him she didn’t trust. She didn’t trust herself and hadn’t for the last few years.

  It was the result of being the good daughter, the one who did everything her father asked of her. He wanted her to play softball so she did. He wanted her to take over the bar, so she studied business in college. It got to the point that she couldn’t say where his dreams for her ended and hers began. Yet here she was, working her way through the business he wanted her to run.

  ****

  His knuckles connected with surprising force but he didn’t stop. Each punch gave him a little jolt of pain, enough to get his thoughts off Sam for one second until her face and her words came charging back at him. His family thought he was a lost cause and it didn’t hurt half as much as Sam’s inability to trust him.

  One last punch at the bag and he dropped his arms. He pulled off the gloves and grabbed a drink of water as he walked out from under his house. He wore his bathing suit and stopped only to drop the bottle in the sand before walking into the water. He dived under the first wave and swam out until he had to work to get another breath into his lungs and the salt water stung his eyes. He turned around and let the waves drive his body back to shore.

  He reached shallow water and stood up just as Sam’s lithe figure came around the corner of his house. He continued toward the beach as he watched her walk up the wooden steps to his back deck. He followed behind her, his feet covered in sand, while water dripped from his body. He got close enough to touch her as she knocked on the sliding glass door.

  “What do you want, Sam?”

  She spun around while one hand clutched at her heart. He felt a puff of air across his wet chest when she gasped. “You scared me.”

  “You’re the one skulking around my house.” He gritted his teeth. Just that morning he’d asked her to move in with him, to give their marriage a chance. Hell, by law, she owned half of it. He loosened his tightened fists and turned around to throw his body down on one of the chaises, ignoring the towel he’d put down before going below to hit the speed bag. He’d let the sun and his anger dry him off.

  “I saw your Jeep out front, but you didn’t answer your front door.”

  “So you thought you’d catch me in the act of what, Sam? Cheating? Stealing from sick friends?” He flexed his fingers, testing out the soreness in his knuckles where they’d hit the bag.

  She looked down at him until she finally sat down on the chaise beside his; her knees lightly touched his arm.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t think you stole from my father or that you tried to con him. I’m just confused, Lee. Everything is going so fast.”

  He pushed up and turned his body. “Two years. Two years of not knowing what I did wrong. Two years of wasted time. No one would consider that fast, Sam.”

  “It’s not just us. My father’s gone, Lee.” Her voice broke and she turned away from him to look back out over the waves. “I admit it. It wasn’t just you I ran away from. I didn’t know if I was the person he wanted me to be. Until I met you, I did whatever he wanted me to do to make him happy. I was always Ray Pierce’s daughter, the one that was going to take over the bar. Then I was the one that disappointed him.”

  “Not everyone thinks that. Your sister is a tough woman. She’s loud and quick to criticize, but that doesn’t mean people listen.” He had though. Maybe not to every word, but he was so grateful for any news of Sam, he had listened and believed Michelle’s lies.

  “She was here and I wasn’t. They had no choice but to believe her. I gave her that power when I took off and moved in with Serena.” She finally turned back to him. Her eyes reflecting an internal storm he didn’t know if he could weather. “I’m not leaving again. I’m going to make the bar into a success.”

  And that’s why she was here, to ensure the bar didn’t sink. “I already told you that I would help. It’s mine too. I haven’t lost a business yet. I’m not planning on making the bar my first failure.”

  Her hand landed on his clasped hands. “I know that. I’m not here because of the bar. I’m here because I want this to work, too.”

  His eyes focused on her empty ring finger. He flipped his hand around, catching her left hand in his. His thumb rubbed the spot his ring should be. “You’ve been wearing my ring for years. Why not now?” He looked up into her eyes.

  “No one really knew me there. Here it’s a different story. I want to see if we can make our relationship work.”

  He cringed at the word. “It’s not just a relationship. It’s a marriage.”

  “Our marriage then. I want our marriage to work. But I don’t want to deal with all of the questions until you and I can work out things between us. There’s more than just time between us. We’ve both changed and I want to know if the people we are today can make it work. I want you to tell me about your family. I want to meet them.” When he opened his mouth to answer, she put her hand up. “Not just Joanna. I want to get to know your mother and your other sisters. No more hiding.”

  He nodded his head. “So you’re saying you want to date again?”

  She reached over to touch a water droplet on his cheek. He closed his hand around hers and pulled her down to sprawl across him on the chaise. Her lips descended on his. He may have initiated but Sam took over, straddling him and disregarding his wet swim trunks and her short dress. While she nibbled on his bottom lip, his fingers worked their way up her thighs, taking the hem of her dress up and over her hips. His fingers reached the lace of her panties just as she lifted up and away from him.

  “So you’re willing to date me again?”

  Lee intertwined his hands with her and it was easy to pull her back down. Another kiss and he was about to slip the bit of satin and lace off her when she moaned and pushed off his chest.

  “Am I going to have to wait until the third date before I’m allowed to get into your pants?” He squeezed her thighs, letting her know he was thinking about getting up her dress at the moment.

  A soft smile curled her lips. “That would be a bit like shutting the barn door after an entire stable of horses had trailed out. No, we don’t have to wait.”

  “Good.” He didn’t meet up with any resistance as he pulled her back down. Her mouth was just millimeters away when he continued, “I want Dylan to know you’re off limits.”

  “He knows I’m not available.” Her voice died off on a moan as his fingers slipped under her panties again. Her head fell forward as a groan escaped from her chest. “Wait, there’s one more th
ing.”

  “Anything.” He meant it, too. He was completely at her mercy.

  She bit her lip, before dropping back down to his chest. “I want you to move in with me.”

  ****

  Two hours after she walked out of the bar, with a promise to be back in an hour, Sam finally returned. She hoped no one would notice the change of clothes. Hers were wet and unreasonably wrinkled. She didn’t have any reason to worry. From the moment she and Lee walked in, they were hit with one problem after another. There was no time for anyone to notice her change of clothes as she ran about, trying to put out proverbial fires.

  The needs of the bar kept her from thinking too much about Lee and the last hour and a half they shared. A toilet in the women’s bathroom was overflowing, one of their beer distributors had called with a problem for the next morning’s delivery and their head cook had run off with one of their waitresses. It was becoming clearer that she and Lee needed to get their heads off relationship stuff and back on the bar. It needed them.

  Happy hour passed by in a blur, as did the small dinner rush while Sam pitched in in the kitchen and Lee worked his magic with the toilet and on the phone. She wondered how many people from the night before would have plunged a toilet, especially one in a public restroom. She gave Lee a lot of credit for stepping out of the world he grew up in. Dylan would have hired out before he ever thought about rolling up his sleeves to do it himself.

  She caught a glimpse of him serving drinks when she brought out another plate of nachos. That easy smile of his had attracted two younger women, who clamored for his attention at the end of the bar. His sister worked the other end and she was getting just as much attention.

  For once she didn’t feel a surge of jealousy while watching Lee flirt. After all, it was her he was touching only a few hours ago. It was her he was planning to go home with.

  Home.

  His eyes flicked up to hers, and he gave her a wink and a full on Lee-Stone-smile. His brows rose up in question. She caught herself staring, smiled back, and moved to the kitchen.

  Lee had agreed to move in to the cottage with her. It was a stupid idea. He was used to that big, beautiful house. Just because he had turned into a sometimes plumber, didn’t mean he was prepared to live without the benefits of constant hot water and air conditioning. But she wanted to bring back everything they had before. She wanted Lee all to herself in a place that reminded her of late night talks and the possibilities of forever.

  She spent the next hour closing down the kitchen, wiping down counters, the stove, and replacing oil in the deep fryer. All of these tasks were meant to keep her mind off the front of the house but still her head kept flitting back to Lee.

  She was exhausted by the time she pushed through the kitchen door into the nearly empty bar room. Lee and Joanna were removing empties and wiping down tables while a few patrons milled about the pool tables in back.

  Lee’s concise movements kept her mesmerized. She loved watching the muscles in his forearms tighten while he wiped down the tables. She shook her head. She was a goner if she couldn’t keep her eyes off his arms.

  She turned back to find a tray to help when she felt Lee come up behind her. “You look tired. Grab a stool and talk to me while I finish cleaning up.”

  “I’ll just check to see if anyone needs refills.”

  He laughed. “Sam, our last customer left five minutes ago while you were staring at me.”

  She blushed but ignored the comment. “What’s left to do?”

  “Sit. You look like you’re dead on your feet. Joanna and I are almost finished.” He put his hands on her shoulders and directed her to a stool. He didn’t let go until she was seated and then was off.

  It took another ten minutes before they were all in Lee’s Jeep. Sam laid her head back and closed her eyes for the five-minute drive. She didn’t open them again until Lee came to a stop in front of his house.

  Lee unbuckled her. “I have to pick up a few things. Want to come in?”

  She nodded and followed them into the house. Joanna wished them good night and went upstairs.

  As soon as Joanna was out of hearing, Sam stopped Lee from following behind her. “We don’t have to do this now. The cottage is small and it’s not exactly that comfortable.”

  “Are you saying you’d rather stay here or that you’re getting cold feet?” He turned his entire focus on her.

  “I’m not getting cold feet. I’d just understand if you didn’t want to give this up…” she spun around and gestured to the entire house, “…for my little two room shack.”

  He stalked the few steps toward her. There was no other way to describe the predatory way he came for her. Even with her eyes on him, her body still jolted when his hands landed on her hips and he pulled her toward him. “Your two room shack has everything I need. Everything I want. You and a bed.”

  He leaned into her and gave her a kiss that had her wondering if maybe one night at his house wasn’t such a bad idea. He pulled back, took her hand, and walked her up to his room. She was only mildly disappointed when he made it clear he was packing to head back to her place.

  Chapter Twelve

  After one somewhat full night of sleep, he found himself falling back into the pattern of waking up after a few hours. He rolled out of bed as quietly as possible and shut the door behind him before turning a lamp on. He took his laptop out of the bag along with his notes and got to work compiling information he had on the bar.

  When he originally planned to take it over, he knew that it had less than a fifty percent chance of surviving the next two years. He had been willing to take the chance when he was the only one involved, but now the bar had to survive for Sam’s sake. It was more than just a business to her. He felt the pressure build to make it thrive as well.

  He slipped a pair of reading glasses out of the front pocket of his briefcase and got to work on a cost benefit analysis for outsourcing the kitchen. An hour later, he felt rather than heard Sam wake up. The door opened a minute later.

  Her blond hair was pulled back into a messy bun, her eyes barely opened when she sat down beside him and moved a notebook to put her head in his lap. After a few adjustments, he got back to work, his left hand in her hair, the other scratching ideas across a yellow memo pad.

  “You wear glasses?” Sam started to rise but he patted her to stay put.

  “I do. It’s early. You should go back to sleep.”

  “What about you?” She smiled and that sleepy smile made him glad he’d given up his climate-controlled bedroom for the humid cottage.

  “Despite sleeping in this morning, I don’t need much sleep.”

  “Why is it I need more than eight hours to feel like a human while you’re great after four?”

  “Luck? Good genes?”

  “Don’t blow me off.” She brushed off his hand and came to a sitting position. “Do you really not need sleep or is it something else?”

  He took a deep breath and pulled off his glasses. She wasn’t going to let this go. “I can only sleep a few hours before I have nightmares. Four hours seem to be the limit.”

  She slid closer until his arm pulled her in. He dumped the pad on the floor to make room for her on his lap. Her head came to a rest under his before she asked the question he’d been waiting for. “What about?”

  “The accident. Sometimes it’s just a vague memory. The sound of glass breaking, metal twisting. Other times, it’s different. More real. I’ve seen my father in the passenger seat get crushed by the tree. Sometimes it’s you, Joanna, my mother.”

  “That’s awful.” She kissed his temple and nuzzled in closer like she wanted to take away the offending dreams.

  “I tried sleeping pills but I didn’t like how I felt after. It’s okay. I sleep in four hour stretches and I get more work done.”

  “But last night, you slept for at least six hours before I left for the bar.”

  He tilted her chin up so that he could kiss her lips. “Then we’
ve found another way to keep the nightmares away.”

  She kissed him back while sliding her hands around the back of his head, keeping him still. She controlled the kiss, finally pulling back when he was starting to consider the advantages of going back to bed.

  He lost his chance when she noticed the paperwork covering the coffee table.

  “What are you working on?”

  “Some ideas for the bar. We can talk about it tomorrow. Why don’t you show me how you can help me sleep?” He pulled her back to him, but she slipped out of his hands and pointed to a graph.

  “I didn’t get my MBA but I know that’s bad. Really bad.” She bent back to pick it up and eyed the downward spike. “This is projected?”

  He sighed. If they went down this road tonight, there wasn’t going to be any more talk of going back to bed.

  “If we continue with the way things are. Yeah, that represents projected earnings.”

  “It’s in the negative. That’s not earning.” Sam put the paper down and looked at him. “I knew it was bad, but I wasn’t sure if I was being realistic.”

  “Your father kept the bar afloat by keeping overhead as low as possible. Too low. Over time that hurts business. Quality takes a nosedive. People want good food to go along with the friendly atmosphere. Frozen clams and cheap beer are not going to get the tourist crowd.” He hadn’t wanted to have this talk with Sam like this.

  She slipped off his lap and crossed her arms over her chest. “You want to change everything?”

  “No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying we need to consider that change might be necessary if we’re going to keep the bar from going under.”

  “So you’ve already come up with a plan without talking to me.”

  It put his back up, the way she assumed he was working behind her back or up to something nefarious.

  “No. I’m trying to find options for us, for the bar. Do you want me to sit and watch it continue to fail? It’s not the money, Sam. This place means more to me than that.”

 

‹ Prev