by B. Cranford
She might not remember that night, but he did. He’d had longer-than-normal curls ever since.
“Are you listening to me, Austin?” she asked, tugging a little harder, ensuring that his attention snapped back to her.
“You’re not? Why–I mean, okay.”
“Why not, is that what you were going to ask?”
“No?” Shit, it came out as a question, which Odie would know was—
“Liar,” she laughed, “you’re going to have to get better at that if we’re going to date, Dundee.”
“Why are you calling me Dundee? That’s what the boys call me.”
“Oh, right. And I’m not just one of the boys anymore, am I?”
“You never were. But now you’re definitely not. You’re my girl.”
“I’m not. Yet.” She smirked at him, no doubt enjoying the way his face morphed from confusion to . . . deeper confusion. “I said I’m not going to be easy. I meant, I expect you to court me. Woo me.”
“Woo you? That sounds dirty, but it’s not, is it?”
She shook her head, mock sadness on her face. Damn. “Win me.”
“Win you. Like a prize?”
“Like a girl you like and that you want to like you back,” she offered, her explanation making him feel like he was eighteen again.
“You’re not a girl”—he held up a hand when she opened her mouth to protest, wanting to explain—“you’re a woman. But that’s cool, I know what you mean. I’ll court you, woo you and win you. You’ll see.”
“I can’t wait.”
The sun was slowly beginning to set when Austin stood from the couch in her living room. After their breakfast at the bakery, and their subsequent chat and decision to go all in, he’d asked if they could have a quiet afternoon at her place.
She didn’t see why not—Ashton was back at work and more than capable of handling the mid-afternoon/evening shift at The Avenue, especially now that Andrew was working there, too, and they had had a late night the night before.
Austin hadn’t arrived until after he’d closed the bar, after all.
Except, their afternoon had been quiet. Too quiet. After telling him she wanted to be wooed, she’d expected it to start, like, immediately. Instead, the most exciting thing that had happened was Austin’s phone running out of battery, prompting him to borrow hers to check in at work.
She knew he still worried about his sister, even though the attack that had landed her in the hospital was weeks behind her.
“I’d better go. I’m closing again.” He held out both hands to her, waiting until she grabbed them before pulling her up from the spot where she’d been curled up beside him. “Wanna pick up an extra shift?”
“You’re going to pay me to work, just so, what . . . ?” Though she suspected she knew, she wanted to hear him say it.
“I thought I’d start my wooing by showing off how well I man a bar.” He coupled his explanation with a wiggle of his eyebrows, which made her giggle.
He was so ridiculous at times, and it was one of the things she loved best about him.
He could be serious, like checking up on Ashton or defending his older brother, Aaron. Or asking for a quiet afternoon spent together, as friends, the same day they’d decided to be more, because he’d missed her.
“I just want to be near you, okay? While I formulate a seduction plan.”
It was such an Aussie thing to say.
She loved it. She loved him, not that she was quite ready to admit that.
“Okay, let me get changed and I’ll come watch you work. But I am not working tonight. I’ll be your audience. No pressure.”
“Are you going to tip me?”
“Only if you don’t try to give me just the tip.”
“Oh, Odie, as if I could stop with just the tip. It’s like you don’t know me at all.” He smirked at her and even threw in a wink, which on any other guy would make Odie cringe, but on Aussie . . . it was kind of hot, she had to admit.
“I don’t know you at all—not like that.”
“But you plan to.”
“But I plan to,” she agreed, unable to help the grin that stretched over her face at the thought of getting to know Austin in that way.
“Hey, meet me there? I have to get there early to run through a few things with Ash, and since you’re only going to watch me work it, not work it with me, it’ll give you more time to get ready.”
She tilted her head, senses tingling, the idea that he was up to something taking root in her mind. “Um, okay?”
“What? I know it takes you forever to get ready,” he laughed as he gestured up and down her low-maintenance body.
Odie had never been one to need a lot of time to get ready. Even when she’d had longer hair, her years at the gym had trained her not just to land a punch that would fell someone at first try, but to also be ready in a heartbeat.
A quick shower, a messy bun, a swipe of mascara if she was being fancy and away she’d go, ready to tackle the world.
A thought occurred to her, one that made her stomach drop and her heart ache, just a little. It wasn’t like Aussie but . . . “Do you want me to get dressed up for you? Do you–do you need that from me?”
Austin’s eyes widened and he moved into her, into her personal space, so he could wrap his arms around her. Within moments of that thought being voiced, he had her legs wrapped around his waist so they could be eye-to-eye. “Absolutely not, Odette. I was joking because you’re the lowest maintenance lady I know. I want you just as you are. Got it?”
He looked almost angry, and Odie wanted to wipe away the last ninety seconds. So, she tried—bringing their lips together in the first kiss they’d shared since the bakery that morning. Their mouths meshed, a sigh settling in her chest at the absolute feeling of rightness that kissing her best friend invoked. It wasn’t until he broke the kiss that the sigh finally escaped her, along with an apology. “I know, I know, I’m sorry.”
“We’re going to figure this out, you and me. ’Kay?”
She nodded and tightened the arms she’d thrown around his neck when he’d lifted her up, bringing their cheeks side-by-side, the sharp brush of his stubble a delicious sensation to her nerves. “I’ll see you there. Have a drink waiting for me?”
She loosened her arms and started to pull back, but before she could alight from his strong arms, and plant her feet back on solid ground, he stopped her with a kiss to her cheek. It was soft, swift and nothing overly special.
Except that it was.
Austin looked at the computer screen in front of him, filling with drink orders input by his wait staff, and then out at the crowd forming in The Avenue. He was pleased with the turnout—Saturday night in Madison and his place was full. Not to capacity, but damn, it had to be close.
To think, not too long ago, he was waiting tables, standing in for management and doing books for a small family-owned restaurant. He’d been something of a Jack of All Trades, learning everything he could before he and Ashton took ownership of the bar they’d earmarked for their future endeavor.
He had the bar. He was about to become an uncle. And now, he had the girl.
The girl he’d been watching the door for since he’d arrived an hour or so earlier; the girl who’d just walked in, drawing the attention of at least three-quarters of The Avenue’s patrons that night.
She was a head-turner.
And she was his.
“She looks pretty-as-hell today, man. Jesus.” The voice of their newest bartender—Bodie, who they’d brought in to replace Ashton when she went on maternity leave—hit his ear and rattled him. He didn’t want this twenty-two year old college student, basically a kid as far as Aussie was concerned, staring at his girl.
Except . . . it also brought a surge of pride. Jesus is right, he thought. Except his blaspheme was more about the fact that a) he’d just thought of someone a decade younger than him as a kid, and b) his inner dialogue was all over the fucking place.
He didn’
t want anyone looking at her.
He wanted everyone looking at her. But only if they knew she was his.
He wanted to take her right there.
He wanted to whisk her away to privacy.
He was having some kind of new-relationship breakdown.
It was awesome. And annoying.
“Hey, handsome, where’s my drink?” Odie climbed onto an empty barstool—though how she’d managed to snag a stool in their crowded bar he wasn’t sure, since he’d been too busy having his breakdown to notice—and stood on the stool’s railing to give her height enough to lean over the bar.
For a kiss.
What the lady wants. The kiss was brief but enough to earn them a couple of whistles and a gasp from Ashton, who appeared from nowhere, a smile transforming her eyes, taking them from tired to alert.
“Oh. My. God. Finally. Does Aaron know? Can I tell him, please? Shit, shit, he knows, doesn’t he? That’s why he told me to meet him here tonight when he knew it was my night off.”
Austin didn’t bother to answer, instead pouring Odie a glass of red wine and sliding it over the counter to her. “Hair of the dog, Garfield?”
“Thanks, babe,” she replied, lifting the glass to her lips and taking a small sip. The wince that followed proved that red wine still wasn’t her drink and yet, it was her drink.
He still wasn’t sure he followed her logic when it came to drinking booze she didn’t like, but whatever. It was Odie. She could ask for pickle juice and cotton candy on a sesame-seed bun and he’d accept it.
“Babe. She babe’d him. Andrew, she babe’d him.” Ashton didn’t bother to wait for a response from Andrew, nudging her pregnant self in next to where Odie stood and giving the man sitting beside her a look that said “I’m pregnant, move”. Which he did. Maybe it wasn’t ideal for business, but Austin didn’t really care. And Ashton certainly didn’t, smiling her thanks and sliding onto the stool with only a little assistance required from her boyfriend.
Still, Austin couldn’t help but tease. “Shouldn’t patrons get dibs on the stools, Little? How would they feel knowing the owner just stole their seat?”
His big sister—who he’d started calling Little when he was small, because that’s what their older brother, Aaron, called her—didn’t bother to hide her eye roll. “He doesn’t know I’m the owner and I’m so pregnant I’ve lost sight of my feet. If you’d just told me about you and Odie here”—she threw a thumb over toward Odie, who looked nonplussed—“I wouldn’t have had to be here to meet Aaron so he could gloat.”
“I didn’t ask you here to gloat, Little. What’s this about Odie?” Aaron came up behind Ashton, laying a hand on her shoulder and giving Aussie a slight tilt of his chin in greeting. Then, he looked over at Odie, still sitting on her stool, nursing the red wine she hadn’t drunk any more of. Yet.
His family was here. She’d be drinking soon enough.
“Hey, Odie. You finally speaking to Tiny again?” Aaron brought his hands together as if in prayer, laying it on thick. “Please say yes. He’s been lost, lost, without you. And if I have to hear him drunkenly lamenting the loss of ‘His Odie’ any more, I might have to punch him.” He paused a beat, before adding, “And we all know I don’t like to punch people. I try to take care of these hands.”
“Because Simon likes them soft?” Andrew interjected, playing along.
“Yes, exactly that. Plus, he’s so big I need them both to get around him, you know? If I punch Tiny and hurt my hand, it would put a serious damper on my sex life.”
“Somehow, I don’t think that would stop you,” Ashton said, turning her head to look at Aaron, still standing behind her. “Can you find somewhere to sit so I don’t have to strain? Making a baby here.”
“Not literally, I hope.”
“I can’t really get any more pregnant, so no.”
“Then you should have said ‘growing a baby,’” Austin interrupted, starting to mix the drinks that continued to appear on the screen in front of him, placing them on a tray to be whisked away by one of the staff as soon as they were ready.
“Semantics,” she sighed, giving another eye roll that made Austin want to poke a little more.
“What’s wrong with semantics? Are you anti-semantics? I never knew that about you.”
“Oh my God, stop.” Her words were strong, but her face told him she was enjoying the joke. “So, Odie.”
Odie, who’d been watching the Andrews’ sibling banter without so much as batting an eye at their TMI and borderline bad jokes, raised her wine glass and gave Ashton an innocent smile. “So, Ashton.”
“Are you finally boning my brother? Is that why we’re here?”
Austin half-watched, half-worked as he wondered how she’d answer. They weren’t technically boning—yet. But he had plans, and they’d agreed it was happening.
He just had to woo her first.
“No. And no. I didn’t even know you’d be here. Honestly, I’m surprised this one let you out of the house,” Odie finally answered, pointing at Andrew and reminding everyone he’d gone a little crazy when Ashton had been assaulted a few weeks earlier.
“To be fair, I gave him the blow job to end all blow jobs before I mentioned everyone was coming here tonight.”
Aaron snorted, “Coming” before he seemed to realize what Ashton was saying. “No, no, nope, no. You can’t say that. That’s my best friend and you’re my little sister.”
“And you just told us your husband’s dick was a two-hander. I really don’t think you’re in a place to lecture me,” Ashton retorted, before Andrew stepped in, his face redder than normal.
“I thought you had an employee/employer barrier, Kitten. Don’t you think you should keep our sex-life out of the conversation?”
“Ha, you thought that, but the more I have to pee at work, vomit in the trash cans, wonder about weird mucus and hairy nipples, the less I care about oversharing and the more I just want little lady to arrive.” Her face took on a wicked look, and even only halfway paying attention, Austin knew she was about to play some kind of ace card—or she thought she was, anyway. “Besides, she babe’d him. That means they’re banging, and that means she’s family now.”
Andrew and Aaron laughed in unison, with Aaron adding, “May God have mercy on her soul,” before Odie picked up her wine and mimed taking a big gulp.
Austin wanted to stop time. His siblings, his probably-someday-soon brother-in-law and his still-to-be-wooed best friend were all playing around and teasing and joking with one another.
It didn’t get better.
Actually . . . it did. When Odie spoke up and answered the still-lingering questions, making both his heart and his blood race. “We decided to go all-in. After I yelled at him a little, and also, learned that he doesn’t know how to snuggle.”
“Oh. Ooh, all-in. Like, dating, flowers, chocolates, slow dancing, and . . . Why am I crying?” Ashton looked over at Andrew for an answer, but he simply smiled at her and wiped the tear that was already tracking down her cheek with a brush of his thumb. “Same reason you’re talking about mucus in a bar, Kitten.”
“Oh, right.” She opened her mouth to add something but it was Aaron who spoke next instead.
“Wait, hold up. You don’t know how to snuggle? Did we teach you nothing?”
“When—how—were you going to teach me that? You think Mom and Dad hated you going after guys, just imagine if they’d interrupted an educational cuddling lesson between brothers.”
“The man makes an excellent point, bro,” Andrew said, clapping Aaron on the shoulder. “Besides, it takes time to get used to it. Dead arms, rigid . . . limbs. It’s a puzzle.” He looked over at Austin, who was just waiting for the punchline. “Not all of us are smart enough to solve it.”
“We got it right the first night,” Ashton added, holding her hand up for a high five which Andrew gave, the obnoxiously loud slap of their palms making Odie snort and Ashton shake her hand in pain.
Good, hope
it hurts, Austin thought, not really meaning it.
“I know how to snuggle, Jesus. I just don’t do it often, and never really with Odie. She’s tiny, look at her.”
“She’s sitting right here, and she doesn’t like you talking like she’s not.” Odie raised an eyebrow at him. “Besides, I might be little, but I can still kick your ass five ways to Sunday. Maybe that qualifies me to be the big spoon?” Her eyebrow lowered, and then her eyelashes fluttered. She looked like innocence and sin in one small, explosive, sexy-as-fuck package, and somehow, Austin didn’t think he’d mind being the little spoon to her big.
Maybe it wasn’t the norm, but who cared if it meant Odie’s perky little tits were pressed against his back?
“You wanna be the big spoon, Garfield, say the word.”
“Careful, Tiny. That’s how I became a bottom,” Aaron offered, clearly unable to resist the temptation to make it all about him—and his sex life.
Ashton groaned, Andrew laughed, rubbing Ash’s back, and Odie just sort of stared.
Right at Austin. With a heated look in her eyes.
Jesus, was she thinking about making him bottom? That really wasn’t his style, but then again . . .
No, no. There are boundaries, he scolded himself, even as a small voice in the corner of his mind said that boundaries were flexible.
And so was Odette Peterson.
“You never did tell us why we’re here,” Ashton said, addressing Aaron, who was sitting opposite her, and next to Odette, in the back booth of The Avenue. After the initial back and forth conversation at the bar, Austin had told them all to move on and let him work, which Odie understood.
His family was overwhelming. In a good way.
But she could see he was struggling to concentrate on work and the teasing and joking that was happening between his siblings, so she’d stalked a spot in the back of the bar until the crowd using it dispersed.