by Kaylee Ryan
“You’re not alone, baby. You’ve got Molly and Jake and me and my family and Jerry; we can’t forget that crazy old man,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.
She laughs. “He’s great,” she defends him.
“He is. They all are, and you’re a part of that now.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, lifting her head and wiping her tears from my bare chest.
“Nothing to be sorry for, Saylor.”
She lays her head back on my chest. “Can you… I mean, do you think you could stay just until I fall asleep?”
Slayed. “I’m not going anywhere,” I say, holding her a little tighter. Her cries begin to quiet, and her breathing becomes even. I know she’s asleep, but I don’t bother moving. I don’t want to risk waking her. In a matter of weeks, I’ve went from sparring with her every chance I could get to wanting to take her pain away. The more I get to know her, the more I want her. Not just because she’s this gorgeous girl who is stacked. No, it’s because of who she is. She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. She’s so fucking strong and resilient. Her story, everything she’s been through. I know there’s more from her time in foster care that she didn’t reveal. What she did reveal was more than enough to gut me. To make me want to track those fuckers down and teach them a lesson for touching her… I take a deep breath. I need to calm down. She’s here, in my arms, safe from the craziness that was her life until she went to live with Elaine.
My mind drifts to her ex. I knew just from looking at him that day at the store he was a real piece of work, but how could he do that to her? Let her give up her home, just to turn around days later and tell her that he’s marrying someone else. Fucker better be glad I didn’t know then what I know now. He also better hope I never run into him again.
Saylor nuzzles closer and mumbles, “Stay.”
Relaxing into the mattress, I kiss the top of her head and close my eyes. I’m not going anywhere.
It’s New Year’s Eve and the Corner Pocket is packed. It’s all hands on deck, so Molly and I made some snack foods for the staff to eat on all night. Molly says she does it every year to show the staff how much they appreciate them being there on a holiday.
“Hey, Say, there’s a guy at the end of the bar asking for you,” Morgan, one of the servers, says as she comes behind the bar to grab a clean towel.
Looking down at the bar, I see Pete waving at me. Son of a bitch. I really don’t feel like dealing with his shit tonight. I cash out my current customer and make my way to where he stands with Tabitha standing beside him.
“Saylor, it’s good to see you,” Pete says.
“What can I get you?” I say. It’s not good to see him, either of them, and I’m not going to pretend that it is.
“We’re celebrating. We’re having a boy,” Pete says, pushing his chest out.
“What can I get you?” I ask again. I expected to feel pain or sadness at his confession, but all I really feel is relief. The last two months have been eye-opening for me. Especially Christmas Eve. Rhett held me while I cried. Here’s this guy who barely even likes me, one I’ve insulted more times than I can count, and he held me while I cried for all I’ve lost and will never have. Pete never once held me when Elaine died. He left me alone, stating he was giving me space to deal. Never once did he put his arms around me and just hold me. Grandpa Rhett is right, I dodged a bullet, and I couldn’t be happier about it. I almost feel bad for Tabitha and their baby, almost. She knew what kind of guy he was, a cheater, before she started sleeping with him. You reap what you sew and all that.
“Just water for me,” Tabitha speaks up. She has a fake smile on her face. She need not worry about me; I don’t want him.
“I’ll take a Bud Light,” Pete says. “We’re due—”
“Look,” I cut him off, “I don’t care. I don’t want details about the baby you’re having with the woman you cheated on me with, the woman who was a coworker to both of us. I don’t want to know; I don’t care, so stop trying to tell me about it.” I turn to grab a bottle of water and his beer, placing them on the counter.
Pete slides me a twenty-dollar bill. “Keep the change,” he says before grabbing their drinks and walking away. Tabitha gives me a smug look before leaving.
“What was that all about?” Molly asks.
“That was Pete being Pete,” I tell her.
“Is that the baby mama?” She cranes her neck to see around the crowd.
“Yep,” I say, popping the p.
“Oh, honey, you deserve so much better than him.”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “So, is it always this crazy on New Year’s Eve?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Always, even when Jerry was running things, this has been the hangout so to speak.” She gets called away to the opposite end of the bar. “Duty calls.” She hip checks me and goes to wait on her customer.
Time passes quickly as we fill order after order. There is a small lag, so I take the time to grab a bottle of water and drink half of it down. “Busy night?” his deep voice greets me.
Rhett.
“Crazy,” I answer. “When did you get here?” I ask, grabbing a towel and wiping down the counter.
“Couple of hours ago.” He points to the back corner where Gary, Todd, Katherine, and several others are sitting.
“You need anything?”
His eyes linger over my breasts before meeting my eyes. “Nope, just wanted to say hi.”
I laugh. “I just seen you last night when you were in here.”
He shrugs. “Today’s a new day.”
“A new year,” I say cheekily.
“A new year. You have a resolution?”
“Nah, I never end up keeping them. What about you?”
“Not really a resolution, more like a plan.”
“That’s cryptic. Care to share?” I ask.
“Hey, can I get a Baxter’s Autumn draft?” a girl asks, sliding up next to Rhett.
“Hey, I haven’t seen you around.” She bats her eyelashes at him, and it takes everything I have not to laugh.
“Here you go.” I slide her a frosty mug.
She hands me her card, I swipe it and hand it back to her with her receipt. “You should come and sit with me and my friends.” She puts her hand on his arm.
Rhett stares down at her hand, and I can tell he’s annoyed. He helped me out, and I see this as my chance to repay the favor. “You mind getting your hands off my boyfriend?” I ask, standing with my arms crossed over my chest.
Rhett looks up, the corner of his lips lifting just enough for me to know he knows what I’m doing.
“Her?” she asks appalled, as if I’m not good enough for him. I happen to agree with her; Rhett is out of my league.
“Her,” he confirms. He lifts his arm and her hand falls away. Blondie storms off toward her friends.
He opens his mouth to thank me I’m sure, but I interrupt him. “So, that resolution?” I ask.
He grins. It’s sexy and mysterious all at once. “I’ll tell you when the time is right.”
“Ah, got ya. You’ve got some work to do.”
“I’m working on it, Say. It’s all I’ve been able to think about,” he says under his breath, but I still hear him. Probably because I’m leaning over the bar, all up in his space. You have to with the noise in this place.
“Well, good luck. I’m happy to help if you need me. You’ve helped me out more than once.”
His eyes soften. “I’m going to take you up on that,” he tells me. “When the time is right, I’m going to take you up on that.”
I nod and move to the next customer vying for my attention. It appears that my break is over. I stay busy filling drinks and passing food off to the servers. Rhett stays in the same spot the rest of the night. Occasionally, if there is a lag in customers, we’ll talk. Jake spent some time chatting with him while slicing up more lemons. I try to ignore him, not because I hate him, it’s the opposite in fact. I seem to have this weird… pull toward him
. I was starting to feel it, but then after last week from the nap to him holding me while I cried, I’m unable to stop thinking about him. I try to tell myself it’s because he showed me his softer side, but deep down, I know it’s more. It’s more, and I can’t seem to shake it. I know nothing can or will come of it, so I need to get myself in check.
“Five minutes,” Molly yells into the crowd, and they all cheer.
I grab the bottle of sparkling cider that the staff will be toasting with tonight and start filling up the plastic wine glasses Molly ordered just for this occasion. I set them behind the bar, so everyone can grab one. They’ll start heading this way for the countdown to the new year. Looking out over the crowd, I see the couples standing close, ready to ring in the new year with a kiss. The superstition goes that if you fail to have a kiss at midnight, you will have a year of loneliness. I’ve had kisses at midnight, but it never took the loneliness away. So much for superstitions.
I risk a glance at Rhett, but he’s no longer in his chair. His coat is still on the back of the stool, so he hasn’t gone far. I assume he’s in the mass of bodies finding his kiss for midnight. My chest tightens at the thought.
“Ten, nine,” the crowd begins to count down. I slide past my coworkers, grab a plastic wine glass, and head toward the back hallway. I can’t watch all the happy couples. I need a minute to toast to myself. I got me. When the crowd reaches five, I feel strong hands grip my hips. Spinning around, I see Rhett. It’s dark, and I can’t make out his facial expression.
Leaning down, he whispers, “Happy New Year, Say,” and then his lips connect with mine.
His lips are soft yet firm. At first, I just stand there, shocked that this is happening. Rhett is kissing me!
“Open, Say,” his deep voice rumbles.
I do as he asks, and my body takes over. Wrapping my hands around his neck, I hold on for the ride. His tongue traces my lips, causing me to moan. All too soon, he’s pulling away and resting his forehead against mine.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he says softly.
“I should get back,” I say like an idiot.
He kisses me one more time, just a soft press of his lips to mine, before releasing his hold on me. Without saying a word, he grabs my hand and leads me back to the bar. With a gentle squeeze, he releases me. I stand there and watch him as he moves around the bar and takes his seat. With a deep breath, I grab a towel on the edge of the bar and go clean a few tables. I need a minute, but there’s work to do. I have to process what just happened.
He kissed me.
I kissed him back.
I want more. More kisses, more of him.
Glancing behind the bar, I see Jake and Molly are swamped. Rushing back, I jump right in, taking and filling orders. All the while, I feel his eyes on me, a soft caress as he watches me.
“How are things? How much longer you plan on sticking around?” I hear Jake ask Rhett.
“Good, as far as the business goes. Gramps is still pissed. Just when I think he’s going to come around, he freezes me out again.”
“What about your position at the brewery?”
“Mom’s filling in for me. She’s loving every minute of it. She’s bored to tears sitting at home. She has a few charities that she works with, but she loves working at the brewery. She and Dad started it from nothing; it’s her passion. She stepped down, saying she was ready to do so, but I really think it was for my benefit when I graduated from college.”
“It’s good to have you in town for more than just a day or two,” Jake tells him.
“Hey, guys, ready for last call?” Morgan, one of the servers, asks.
“I got it,” I say. Reaching for the megaphone, I hand it to Jake.
He yells out over the crowd for last call, and the bar is swarmed. They’ll have fifteen minutes to finish this last drink before Jake kicks them all out. Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, I’m on the floor picking up empty bottles, mugs, and glasses when Jake booms that it’s closing time. Slowly, the crowd disappears.
I make myself busy cleaning up the tables and putting up chairs.
“We’re done, Say,” Jake says.
Looking up, I see that all the other staff is gone. It’s just Jake, Molly, Rhett, and me left.
“I’ll come by and finish mopping tomorrow. It’s New Year’s, let’s go home and have a drink,” Jake says.
“I don’t mind. You all can go ahead,” I tell them.
“Nope. You’re done. Get your stuff,” Molly says.
“Fine,” I concede. I grab my coat, keys, and phone and head toward the door.
“You should let your car warm up,” Rhett says.
I wave him off. “It’ll be fine. I’ll see you guys at home,” I say over my shoulder and walk out of the bar. Normally, I would wait to walk out with them, but Rhett and the kiss, it has me on edge.
“Short Stack!” he calls after me. I don’t stop, pretending to not hear him as I burrow into my coat. “Hey,” he says, grabbing my arm. “You okay?”
“Of course,” I tell him.
He studies me for a few seconds before giving me a brief nod. “I’ll follow you home,” he says, leaning down he kisses my temple. “Drive safe.” He opens my door, and I climb in. I don’t say anything because I can’t find my words. They’re lodged in the back of my throat with the emotion that I just swallowed down. With shaking hands, I put my SUV in drive and head toward home. Rhett stays behind me the entire way. When I reach the driveway, I turn in, expecting him to follow me, he doesn’t. Instead, he beeps twice and drives on past.
What the hell happened tonight? I send a quick text to Molly telling her I’m exhausted and I’m going to pass on a drink. After reassuring her that I made it home okay and that I’m all right, I take a quick shower and climb into bed. Thoughts of Rhett and his lips against mine follow me in my dreams.
It’s New Year’s Day. I’ve been here for two months, and Gramps is still not thawed from his anger toward me. Something has got to give. Taking the stairs to his room, I hear him coughing from just outside the door. “Morning,” I say, pushing open the door.
The night nurse and the day nurse are both there. “He had kind of a rough night. He had a breathing treatment at three this morning and should have another now, before breakfast,” I hear them talking.
“What happened?” I ask them.
“Sometimes this happens. It’s that time of year, and he’s weak.”
“But he was doing so much better,” I say. He was. He was happy and barely coughing just last week.
“That’s emphysema,” she explains.
“What can I do?” I ask them.
“Nothing you can do. We’ll be here around the clock to keep an eye on him.”
“Thank you.”
“Mr. Baxter, I’m going to go get the machine ready for your breathing treatment. I’ll be right back,” she tells him.
I wait until they are both out of the room before taking a seat in the chair beside his bed. “Hey, Gramps.”
“I need you to go to Vegas,” he wheezes.
“What?”
“Vegas,” he says, taking a deep breath. “I signed the distillery up for a convention. It’s a big casino, a big customer of ours. They’re having a sampling, and I signed us up. I can’t go like this,” he says. I can tell just that little speech exhausted him.
“Can we cancel?” Not that I’m against going to Vegas, but staying here, especially with him not feeling well, seems like the better option.
“No. I gave my word. That means something, Rhett Alexander Baxter,” he says. I assume since he busted out the whole name it was meant to be scolding, but his wheezing took the heat out of it.
“Okay. So I need the details,” I tell him.
“Dorothy took care of it. She can help you.” He takes a deep breath. “You need to find a bartender to go with you. I was going to ask Jake and didn’t get around to it.”
“Why do I need a bartender?” I�
�m starting to wonder if he’s delirious from the medications. Is he running a fever?
“It’s a sampling. You need someone experienced to serve. You’ll be busy talking about the company, schmoozing potential clients who will be there. You won’t have time to do it all.”
“Right.” I agree that wouldn’t be ideal. “Okay, I’ll call Jake today. Anything else?”
“No, I’m tired,” he says, closing his eyes, dismissing me.
“When?” I ask him, even though his eyes are closed.
“This weekend,” he replies, never opening his eyes.
I sit with him anyway until the day shift nurse comes in to give him his breathing treatment.
Downstairs, I pull out my phone to text Jake.
Me: Hey, you at the bar?
Jake: Yep.
Me: Be there in fifteen.
Grabbing my keys and coat, I head to the Corner Pocket. I’m hoping that my old buddy Jake is up for a trip to Vegas.
Me: I’m here.
I’m standing outside the main entrance waiting for Jake to unlock the doors.
“Wipe your feet, man. I just mopped.” He points to my snow-covered shoes.
After thoroughly wiping my feet, I take a stool behind the bar and sit to stay out of his way. “So what’s up?”
“I need a favor.”
“Shoot,” he says, looking up at me from where he’s writing something on a clipboard.
“Gramps just told me this morning that I need to be in Vegas this weekend for a sampling show he signed the distillery up for. I also need a bartender,” I tell him. “You free?”
He laughs. “I wish. A trip to Vegas sounds like fun. I’ve got a guy coming in to install a new grill. Ours is on its last leg.”
“Not to sound like a dick, but can Molly handle it?” I ask him.
“Nope. We’ve also got an appointment with a wedding planner.” He grins. “Apparently, she has a waiting list, but had a last-minute cancellation and agreed to take us on. Mol’s excited. No way am I taking that from her.” He writes something else on his clipboard before looking up at me again. “Take Saylor.” He says it like it’s common sense.