by Kaylee Ryan
“Yeah, I’m fine. I had that handled,” she says, but the slight tremble in her body tells me otherwise.
“Sure you did, sweetness. Go on back to the bar. These guys are going home.”
“That’s what I was just telling them. They’re cut off.”
“I got it,” I say, giving her hip a light tap before releasing her from my hold. “Go on, I don’t want you in the middle of this in case things get ugly.” It’s not because it’s Saylor; it’s any woman. No man has a right to touch them without permission. He’s a poor excuse for a man.
“I can handle myself, Rhett,” she says, exasperated.
“I’m sure you can, Short Stack. Thing is, you don’t have to, not with assholes like these, not while I’m around. I’ll take care of them. Go on back behind the bar.”
“Say,” Jake says. He’s now standing beside us. “Go on up and help, Molly. We’ll handle this.” She nods and heads back behind the bar.
“Where the fuck were you?” I ask Jake.
“I was watching her. I was on my way out here when I saw you. I knew you would take care of it.”
“So why are you here now?” I ask.
“She looked like she was giving you shit, and I knew she would listen to me.”
It pisses me off that he’s right. Surely, she knows that regardless of whatever game we have going on between us, that she’s safe with me. I make mental note to talk to her, make sure she understands that above all else.
“Come on, fellas,” Jake says. “It’s time for you to go.”
“What the fuck? She was being a prick-tease. I was just telling her what happens to girls like her.”
I see fucking red. Without a thought, I reach past Jake and grab the motherfucker by his collar and lift him from the chair. “Let me tell you something, you ever lay a hand on her again, even look in her direction, you’ll answer to me.”
“Rhett,” Jake says.
Fuck. I’m losing my shit, but this guy is pushing all my fucking buttons. Drunk prick. Now I have Jake pissed off. I know this is his bar, but dammit, he needs to defend her.
“Take him outside,” he says, surprising me. “I got the others. You fella’s are going to follow calmly, right?” he asks. “I know for a fact your bill is paid, so it’s time for you to go.”
I don’t stick around for the rest of the conversation. Instead, I grab the back of dickwad’s shirt and push him out the door.
Jake is right behind me with the other four guys in tow. “Listen, I don’t want any problems, but you disrespected my bartender, that’s unacceptable. I’ve called a cab.” Just as he says it, the cab pulls up. “Go home, sleep it off. If this happens again, you’re banned for life. Understood?” he asks, his voice booming into the night.
The four friends are not near as wasted as the one who put his hands all over Saylor. They scoop him up and the four of them pile into the cab. Luckily, it’s a van. Jake and I stand with our arms crossed over our chests, legs apart, watching until the cab drives away.
“You good?” he asks.
“Yeah, I just hate pricks like that. Disrespecting women.”
“Women or Saylor?” he asks. There is no teasing in his voice this time.
“Both,” I admit. “I mean, we’ve all hung out, she’s your employee, we’re friends, you would have done the same.”
He nods. “You’re right, I would have. Although, I’m not convinced you’re giving me the whole truth.”
“Are we done, Dr. Phil? It’s balls cold out here, and I’m sure my beer is hot by now.” I’m deflecting, and I know it. It’s not that I like Saylor—I mean, not the way he’s thinking. She’s gorgeous and we have this crazy love-hate chemistry going on. And the guy was a dick. I would like to think that no matter who it was I would have reacted the same way.
Jake just laughs and walks inside with me on his heels. He heads behind the bar, and I take my seat at the end of the bar. Before I can even sit, Saylor is there with a frosty mug filled to the brim. “Thanks for that.” She motions her head toward the floor. “I know you meant well, but I really can take care of myself. Yes, I’m short”—she rolls her eyes—“but I’ve dealt with worse.”
“I’m sure you can, and I’m sorry that you have. He’s a dick. I would have done it for anyone, not just you. It was the right thing to do.”
I can visibly see her relax. She doesn’t say anything else, just turns and walks back to her end of the bar. Jake has taken over the floor for the night, which is a good plan on his part. I’m sure, even though she hides it, Saylor is shaken up, and no way is he putting Molly out there after what happened. Some other drunk asshole might think he can do the same. I finish my beer and leave a fifty on the bar. It’s more than necessary, but technically Saylor waited on me since Jake said the first was on the house, not that I still wouldn’t have paid. Something tells me she needs it. I catch Jake’s eyes and point to the door. He throws his hand up in a wave, and I’m gone. I don’t bother saying goodbye to Saylor or Molly; they’re both slammed behind the bar. I’ll see them both again soon.
It’s Saturday night, and Jake made sure that the three of us were all off. Apparently, it’s fight night. The bar will be buying the pay-per-view, which is sure to bring in a huge crowd. That’s part of the reason I’m surprised we’re all off. I volunteered to go in, but Molly shut me down. She and Jake are having people over to watch the fight, and insisted I be there. I conceded and asked what I could bring. Which leads me to my current situation—at the grocery store at ten in the morning on this dreary cold Saturday morning. It’s just a week before Christmas, and the masses are out doing their last-minute shopping. I finished a couple of weeks ago. I have very few people to buy for, so it’s an easy process.
Pushing my cart down the baking aisle, I look for the last few ingredients I need for my holiday baking. I have a few tins that I’m making for people, and the rest I’ll just leave on the bar at work. I can’t leave it in my apartment or I’ll eat it all. That I don’t need.
I’m almost at the end of the aisle when I hear my name. Turning, I see Pete and his baby mama, Tabitha, headed toward me. Tabitha moves her hand to her small baby bump. “Saylor, hi. How are you?” Pete asks.
“You know, living the dream,” I say deadpan. Whirling around, I start to push my cart when they walk up beside me. Pete places his hand on my shoulder, and I flinch. His touch is not welcome.
“I’ve been calling,” he says.
“Yeah, well, I’m busy and frankly have no desire to talk to you.” My body is rigid. I’m not afraid of him, but I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to be anywhere near him. He did me a favor, I know that now, but it doesn’t change the fact that just being around him has me going on the defense.
“Peter,” Tabitha says in a whiny voice. “We have things to do.”
He looks over at her. “Yeah, just give me a few minutes.”
“Saylor, I want us to be friends.”
I can’t even with this guy. After everything, he’s going to stand here in the middle of the grocery store with the woman he cheated on me with and tell me we need to be friends?
“Hey, babe, I got the vegetable tray. What else did we need?” a deep voice asks.
Turning, I see Rhett placing a vegetable tray in my cart. He’s wearing a Baxter’s Distillery T-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants. His hair is mused, as if he just woke up. I squeeze the handle on the cart to keep from reaching out to run my hand through it.
“Who are you?” Pete asks.
“I’m hers.” He points to me. “Who the hell are you?” Rhett asks, coming to stand behind me. He places his hands on my hips.
“I’m her—I mean, we’re friends,” Pete says.
“No we’re not.” I point to Tabitha. “You slept with your secretary, multiple times, while we were together. Then you knocked her up and kicked me to the curb. We’re nothing.”
Rhett’s arm shoots around me, and he holds his hand out for Pete. Reluctantly, I see Pet
e take it and the slight wince as they shake hands. “Thank you,” Rhett tells him. Pete furrows his brows in confusion. “If you wouldn’t have fucked her over, I would have missed out on the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He places his hand back on my hip.
Tabitha makes some kind of squeaking noise and stomps her foot like a toddler. Pete just stands there with his mouth hanging open. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him speechless, which has a smile tilting my lips.
“Ready, baby?” Rhett asks, kissing my temple.
“Y-yes.” I don’t bother saying goodbye or that it was good to see them. No use in lying about it. I push the cart on shaking legs. Rhett places his hands on my shoulders and walks behind me. I walk until I reach the other side of the store then turn. It’s then I notice we’re in the dog food aisle.
“You all right, Short Stack?” Rhett asks, releasing me from his hold.
“Yep. You’re making quite the habit of swooping in and saving the day.”
“You looked like you wanted to be anywhere but there.” He shrugs.
“Something like that,” I agree.
“So, he’s your ex?”
“Yep.” I look up at the shelf, pretending to care about dog food.
“You have a dog?” he asks, amused.
“Nope. I should go. Thanks for that back there, but I had it handled.”
“I know you did,” he agrees. “But now he knows he fucked up. He’s seen you with someone else.”
I groan. “Great, now his calls are going to be more frequent.”
“Possibly, but he’ll know that the ship has sailed and that you’ve moved on. He might make a last-ditch effort, but he knows the deal.”
I look up at him. “How are you so sure?”
“I’m a guy. I know that if I had a girl that looked like you and I lost her, I would try to get her back too. If I saw her with another, well, I would try even harder knowing that it’s over. It’s like I would have to give it one more go so I would always know I tried.”
“That might be what you would do or even most guys, not Pete. He’s relentless. He calls me a couple of times a week, and I just let it go to voice mail. I delete them without listening, and I ignore his texts.”
“Is he stalking you?”
I laugh. “No, just annoying the hell out of me. Thanks again, I’ll see you around,” I say, gripping the cart and pushing it down the aisle.
“Short Stack!” he calls out.
I turn to look at him over my shoulder. “I accept all forms of sexual favors as payment.” He smirks.
“Damn, and I gave my last sexual favor for the year last night.” I shrug. “I guess you did this one for free.” Turning back around, I push the cart to the end of the aisle. I see Pete and Tabitha are walking out the door, so I circle back around to the baking aisle to get the rest of my supplies. When I reach the checkout, I see the vegetable tray and go ahead and get it. I’ll just bring it to the fight tonight. I’m sure that’s what Rhett was doing with it as well. No doubt he’ll be there.
After unloading all the groceries, I put the meatballs in the Crock-Pot and start on the no-bake cookies. They’re my favorite and one of the many items Elaine and I used to make every year around the holidays. I crank up the radio and get busy. By the time I’m finished, every inch of the counter, the small kitchen island, the dining room table, and two trays on the coffee table are filled with no-bake cookies. I might have gone a little overboard. I forgot that Elaine’s recipe was tripled because of all the cookies she would give away. As a social worker, she became close to many families, and we always made tins full of goodies as gifts.
My phone rings, and I rush to put the pan down, wipe my hands, and find my phone under the rows and rows of cooling cookies. “Hello,” I say quickly, hoping I didn’t miss the call.
“Hey, Say,” Tara greets me.
“Hey. How are you settling in?”
“Good. I miss you. I really wish you would come here to stay. Then at least I would have someone.”
“I’m sorry. You know I can’t do that.”
“You can, you just refuse to,” she says sarcastically.
“No, Tara, I can’t. This is my life now. How is that fair to me to pack up and move just so you’re not alone? Would you have done that for me?” I ask. I’m a little ticked off at her tone.
“I have Colin. You know I couldn’t do that.”
“Really, Tara? Do you hear yourself right now? You’re pissed off that I won’t move to live with you in Oregon because you’re lonely. I get it, trust me I do. If anyone understands that it’s me.”
“You’re stubborn,” she snarks back.
“Stubborn? What has gotten into you?”
“Nothing. I need to go. I thought I could count on you.”
“Tara, you can count on me. We’re friends, but I can’t just pack up my life because you’re lonely. I have a life here.”
“Right. You have no family, you can go anywhere.”
My heart constricts at her harsh words. “I don’t even know what to say to you right now,” I whisper the words. How is this happening? Tara and I have been friends for years. She knows my history. How is she treating me like this?
“Whatever,” she says, and the line goes dead.
Phone clutched in my hand, I step back until my body is aligned with the refrigerator. Hot tears prick my eyes. Tara has been my closest friend since I moved in with Elaine. I can’t believe she would say those things. She used my history to hurt me. Why? Because I won’t move across the country to live with her and her fiancé where I am guaranteed to be a third wheel the majority of the time? West Virginia is my home now. Sure, I moved here with Pete, but that was after a lot of thought. We’re not together, but that doesn’t mean this isn’t where I belong. I love working at the Corner Pocket, and I value the friendships I have with Jake and Molly. Life has taught me you depend on no one.
All I have is me.
I give myself a few minutes to let the tears fall before climbing to my feet. Feeling sorry for myself is getting me nowhere. Now more than ever I’m grateful for my decision to stay here to take the job at the Corner Pocket and the generosity of Molly and Jake. Grabbing a paper towel, I dry my eyes, wash my hands, and get back to work. Once all the cookies are dipped out onto wax paper, I head to the shower. I’m not going to think about it or let it get me down. I’m looking forward to tonight and meeting new people.
Just keep moving forward.
Grabbing a reusable shopping bag, I fill it with two containers of cookies. Luckily, the vegetable tray is sealed tight, so I tip it on its side and place it in the bag as well. I check to make sure my phone is in my pocket, as well as the key to the apartment. I know I’m just going next door, but you never know who could be lurking in the shadows. I shiver at the thought. Sliding into my coat, I throw the bag over my shoulder and grab the Crock-Pot from where I have it sitting on the table. I wanted it to cool off a little before the walk next door.
Setting the Crock-Pot on a small table that sits on the balcony of the steps, I pull the door closed and lock it before grabbing the food and starting my trek down the stairs.
“Hey,” Rhett calls, climbing out of his truck. “Let me help you.”
“I got it,” I say. I walk right past him to the main house.
“Saylor, come on. Let me carry that,” he says, catching up with me. He puts his hand on my shoulder to stop me. I have no choice but to stop. With my hands full, I’m in no position to brush him off. Rhett takes the Crock-Pot out of my hands.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“Why are you so against people helping you?” he asks. He’s not being a dick this time. I can tell from the sound of his voice, he really does want to know.
“Old habits and all that,” I say, deflecting. He doesn’t need to hear my life woes.
“We need to break those habits, Short Stack.”
I don’t comment. Instead, I knock on the front door.
“Go on in
,” Rhett tells me.
Before I can tell him no that it’s rude, Molly answers the door. “Why are you knocking? Get in here, it’s freezing out there,” she says, stepping back from the door.
Rhett bends down next to my ear. “Told you.”
I fight the urge to elbow him. “Do you have an open outlet where I can plug in the Crock-Pot?”
“Yeah, just set it over there.” She points Rhett to an open spot beside the sink. “What’s in the bag?”
“Rhett brought a vegetable tray, and I made cookies.”
Molly looks between me and Rhett. “Did y’all come together?”
“Nope.” I don’t hesitate with my answer.
“We ran into each other at the store earlier. I left my stuff in her cart.” He pulls out his wallet and hands me a twenty-dollar bill.
“Don’t worry about it.” I wave him off.
“Take it, Saylor,” he says sternly.
“Just give it to Molly. It will be my contribution for the fight.”
“I told you we were covering it. All you needed to do was bring a snack food.”
“Well, I also told you I would pitch in. Now what can I do?”
“Nothing, we’re good to go. Everyone else is in the living room. Let me introduce you.” I nod and follow her into the living room, Rhett hot on my heels. “I want details,” she whispers to me over her shoulder. I hear Rhett snicker from behind me.
“Baxter!” a deep voice calls out as we enter the living room. “Damn man, it’s been too long.”
“Gary, good to see you. Hey, Todd, Katherine,” he greets the others.
“This is Saylor,” Rhett says, placing his hand on the small of my back.
“Saylor,” Molly says, looking over at Rhett with an odd expression, “works for us at the Corner Pocket. Saylor, this is Gary, Todd, and Katherine, Todd’s fiancée.”
“Nice to meet you.” Katherine stands to shake my hand.
“You as well.” Todd and Gary wave at me. Awkwardly, I wave back, feeling my face heat from embarrassment. Gary is a good-looking guy, and tall if the long legs stretched out in front of him are any indication. He has sandy blond hair, and I can see the blue of his eyes from here. They rival mine, but I have to admit the color looks better on him. His light features are night and day compared to Rhett with his dark hair and brown eyes.