by Skye Jordan
She couldn’t stop thinking about him, and the same seemed to be true for him. He didn’t go more than a few hours without calling or texting her. He’d been her wakeup call in the morning and her FaceTime good night in the evening. No matter how many times she told herself not to pick up the phone, she couldn’t resist. She wanted to connect with him.
It would have been infinitely easier if he hadn’t set every cell in her body on fire. Like an addict, every time she heard his voice, she wanted more. Wanted to hear those dirty nothings purred in her ear. Wanted to feel his hard body against hers.
She needed to stop this before it got out of hand. Before they were both too invested, because a man on the road—no matter how much she felt for him—was the wrong man.
She vowed to say exactly that the next time they spoke.
After filling one of the coolers with Heineken, she grabbed the next résumé off the top of the pile, slipped her earbud in, and dialed the number for Dale Goldstein.
The phone rang in her ear, and Gypsy glanced at Cooper before she headed into the back room again. He was lying on his side now on the floor, one arm under his head and the other pushing the car back and forth. He’d be asleep soon, no doubt.
She hefted the case of liquor and carried it back out to the bar.
“Yo,” a deep voice came over the line. “Pinky’s pornoporium, what’s your pleasure?”
Gypsy rolled her eyes and hoped she wasn’t talking to the Dale Goldstein whose application she was skimming. “You get points for impressive alliteration.”
“Impressive what?” His voice went high on the last word.
“Never mind. Can I speak to Dale, please?”
“This is Dale, and I love your voice. Say something dirty.”
Gypsy braced both hands on the edge of the bar. She was starting to believe that the odds of her finding a decent manager were right up there with seeing Bigfoot in the parking lot. “I’m calling about your résumé? That dirty enough for you?”
The sound of someone sucking air came over the line, followed by a stuttered and apologetic “Oh my God, I’m really sorry. I seriously was expecting my buddy to call, this is just a sick joke between us, I’m really sorry you got caught in that…”
Gypsy let out a long breath and tuned out the rest of his apology. Normally, she would just hang up, but she was getting down to the bottom of her résumé stack and feeling a little desperate. So she brushed aside the bad beginning and wandered through a few of her first-phase questions.
His experience didn’t sound bad, but it didn’t sound like what she was hoping for either. In three questions, she’d ascertained that he’d embellished his résumé and didn’t have near the background she needed. She was beginning to think she was going to have to train someone, and that felt like it would take longer than just doing the work herself.
Since she was on the fence with this guy, she asked a telling question. “So tell me about your criminal record.”
He’d put an X in the box indicating no criminal background, but she’d gotten this trick from another local bar owner, and it had proved useful countless times. The guilty always felt guilty.
Silence hung on the other end of the line before Dale sputtered an uncertain “Criminal—? I didn’t think— Look, that was all a big misunderstanding.”
Gypsy’s eyes closed. She might as well just fucking forget hiring a manager altogether. She opened her eyes and pulled in a breath to end the call and found herself staring at Wyatt as he entered the bar.
“I’ll give you a call back if I want to schedule an interview.” She disconnected.
Wyatt was wearing a T-shirt, jeans, and an old ballcap. And damn, without that flannel overshirt, his muscular torso stretched that cotton tee in all sorts of amazing ways.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Her body was definitely not connecting with her mind’s agenda of taking things between them down a notch.
His gaze scanned the bar and locked on her. A smile whipped across his face, his spine straightened, and he picked up his pace in long strides across the floor, coming at Gypsy with purpose. Her heart skittered around in a circle but couldn’t find any place to hide. Thankfully, he crossed paths with Cooper first, giving Gypsy a chance to find her emotional footing.
He stopped short and chuckled as he bent at the waist to look into Cooper’s eyes. “Hey there, buddy. Looks like all this racing wore you out.”
“Hi, Wyatt. I go to the doctor soon, then to my superhero camp.”
“That’s right,” he said, smiling. “That’s coming up, isn’t it?”
“Play cars with me?”
Wyatt eased into a crouch and smiled at Cooper while running his hand over Cooper’s head and giving his back a reassuring pat. The gesture was so sweet and so warm, it swelled Gypsy’s heart until it hurt.
“Maybe after I talk with your mama, okay?”
“‘K.”
But before Wyatt even reached the bar, Cooper had fallen asleep. Gypsy pulled out her earbud. “How did you get out of the child-rearing cage?”
Instead of stopping at the bar, his momentum picked up. He planted one hand on the bar one foot on the stool, and bolted the bar, landing right beside her. Gypsy took a step back and laughed. But Wyatt wrapped her in his arms and kissed her quiet.
His lips were warm and solid, his kiss full of the passion they’d shared several nights ago, threatening to shatter all Gypsy’s good intentions. He felt amazing. Warm and strong. Like someone to lean on. Like someone who cared about her.
And with his mouth on hers, Gypsy couldn’t remember why she kept telling herself to push back.
She broke the kiss and leaned back to look into his eyes. “What’s got you so excited?”
“Seeing you, for starters.” He brushed her hair back. “Is it just me, or does it feel like a year since we’ve seen each other?”
She smiled but didn’t answer, and pushed away to put some space between them. “Where’s Belle?”
“She’s at school.” He beamed as if he’d just performed the impossible. “I don’t know who you talked to or what you said, but that awesome school opened a spot for Belle.”
Gypsy crossed her arms and leaned back against a cooler. “That’s great. How did she do?”
“Pretty good.” He sobered. “I took her to lunch and told her about her mom.”
Gypsy winced. “How’d that go?”
He tilted his head and pressed a hand to the edge of the bar. “It went fine. A little too fine, I think. I mean, she was sad, for sure, but I expected more of a meltdown, you know? I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“I get the feeling her mom has been emotionally absent for a while,” Gypsy told him. “Maybe it wasn’t as much of a shock as we expected.”
He shrugged. “All I know is that she wanted to go back for the afternoon, which I took as a good sign.”
“That’s a great sign.”
He nodded. “Paisley Jessip’s boy goes there. She and I have been talking about a duet. She’s going to be in town for a few days, so I think we’re going to see if we can get together and work on it.”
“Nice.”
“Yeah. Feels good to think about work again.”
Wyatt moved in and slid his arms around her waist. “I’ve missed you.”
She wanted to say the same, but self-preservation won out.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he told her with a sexy little smile.
Gypsy grinned. “Let me guess—it’s in your pants.”
Wyatt pulled her hips against his and dipped his head to kiss her. Ending this when he went back on the road was going to suck so hard.
“That too,” he said, “but not the surprise I meant.”
He reached into his back pocket, pulled out an envelope, and took a step away to hand it to Gypsy.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“A list of highly qualified club managers,” he told her. “And they would all like to work for you.”
“What?” She pulled out the stack of papers inside. The first sheet was a list of names. The following sheets were résumés of the people on the list. Within thirty seconds, she knew she’d struck gold. “Oh my God. How did you do this?”
“You have your mommy connections, I have my music connections.”
Her gaze returned to the résumés of four women and two men. This was more than she could hope for. They all had multiple years of experience managing clubs, restaurants, or bars.
Then a thought crossed her mind. She lowered the résumés and pinned Wyatt with a look. “Have you slept with any of these women?”
He lifted his hands in surrender. “Not a one. I swear. The guys either.”
She laughed.
“I do love seeing that little green-eyed monster pop out, though.”
She sputtered a half laugh. “Please. Don’t get all cocky on me. It was one time.”
“I don’t know what math you’re using, sugar, but by my count it was more like four—or more—times.”
“Oh my God.” She rolled her eyes and turned away, spreading the résumés out on the counter, but his words brought memories spilling back along with the sensations he’d created in her body.
Wyatt came up behind her, slid his arms around her waist, and pulled her body up against his. He used his chin to push her hair aside and kissed her neck. Gypsy’s eyes closed and a sound lifted from her throat against her will. His hands slid over her stomach, her hips.
His lips moved up her neck and behind her ear. “What do you say we round that off to an even dozen tonight?”
Her body screamed Yes, let’s.
Damn, she wanted to. Really, really wanted to. And that sent a tingle of fear straight up her spine. She couldn’t lie to herself anymore, what she was feeling for him went way past fun.
“I can’t.” Those words had never felt so hard to say. “I’m working, and I have to call these people to set up interviews.”
He rested his chin on her shoulder. He felt so good behind her, his chest against her back, his generous package against her ass, thighs against thighs. After the way he’d made her feel in the back of his truck, half-dressed, she couldn’t begin to imagine what he’d do to her naked in bed.
“Already handled,” he murmured at her ear.
She turned her head to look at him, and he took the opportunity to kiss her again.
Before she could ask, he said, “They’ve all been scheduled for interviews tonight. First one shows in about an hour.”
“What? No. I’m bartending, and Cooper—”
“I’ve got it covered. Dylan and Emma are going to take Cooper and Belle, and I heard it’s celebrity bartending night. So, while you’re choosing your right hand, I’ll man the bar.”
“But—”
“No buts. I’ve got it all worked out.” He gave her a squeeze. “I’ve got you, sugar.”
Emotion came in a rush. She couldn’t remember the last time someone took the weight off her shoulders like this. Miranda and Dylan were great about taking Cooper when Gypsy had to work, but this was different and felt like so much more.
Gypsy turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “This is… I can’t even begin to…”
“I know.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s hard doing it all yourself.”
All her breath whooshed out, and she pushed up to her toes to kiss him. Wyatt groaned before he pulled away with a smile. “If I’d known all it would take to get a taste of you was a celebrity bartender, I would have pulled in a few favors. Garth and Keith are a killer duo behind the bar.”
Gypsy laughed and kissed Wyatt again. “Your ass is way cuter than either of theirs.”
15
The bar was so loud, Wyatt couldn’t hear himself think. He added two Tom Collinses and two whiskey sours to one of the cocktail waitresses’ tray.
“I’m calling it,” he said, glancing at his watch. It was not quite two a.m., but it felt even later. “If people want drinks, make ’em come up to the bar.”
Shannon, a long-legged, slim brunette, heaved a sigh. “My savior.”
He understood. The bar had been so packed, people could barely move around. Wyatt had been here enough to know this wasn’t the usual situation. Sure, Gypsy’s was one of the hottest bars on Broadway, but this kind of crowd wasn’t the norm.
Word had spread that Wyatt was bartending. A free show for anyone who wanted to wander into Gypsy’s. He’d taken breaks to perform a few songs on stage before returning to the bar. But even then, he’d gotten everyone to sing along without music. In truth, he’d had a lot of fun, and his publicist would pee her pants when she heard about this little impromptu situation. In many ways, bartending felt like a damn vacation to him after a week of putting Belle to bed.
Wyatt put two fingers in his mouth and whistled over the noise. “Last call. You want one for the road, you come get it at the bar.”
The swarm of people eddied, some starting for the exit, some headed toward the bar.
One of the longtime bartenders, Violet, patted his shoulder. “You are damn good for the tip jar, dude.”
“My pleasure. Think you can handle last call without me?”
“Sure. You’ve pulled your weight tonight.”
“Thanks.” He grabbed a fifth of Jack and two lowball glasses. “Go ahead and lock up when you’re done. Gypsy and I will turn off the lights when we leave.”
“You got it.”
Wyatt headed toward the back room, where Gypsy had disappeared two hours before. She’d spent the better part of the evening interviewing all six candidates Aaron had pulled together at Wyatt’s request. But she and Wyatt hadn’t been able to do more than glance at each other through the crowd all night.
He used the bottle to tap on the office door before opening it. Gypsy sat at her desk, hands holding her head up, her gaze on the pages of some type of ledger.
She looked up and gave him a tired smile. “Hey.” She glanced at the clock on her desk. “That time already, huh?”
He closed and locked the door, then moved toward her, his body fatigued. “Didn’t feel like it went by all that fast to me.”
She swiveled in her chair to face Wyatt. He planted his free hand on the arm of the chair and leaned down to kiss her. She was smiling when his lips touched hers. Their kiss turned heated in seconds. He tasted her slowly, groaning at the sweetness of pure Gypsy.
She put a hand against his chest and rolled her chair backward, breaking the kiss. Her lids were heavy as she licked her lips, as if she liked the taste of him just as much. “You’re a dangerous man, Jackson.”
He straightened, offering his hand. “Never been called that before.”
She let him pull her to her feet and followed him to the sofa. He dropped into the corner, landing in a partially reclined position, and pulled her down with him. She fell against his chest and sighed. For a long moment, they lay like that, her head on his chest, his arm around her back, whiskey and glasses hanging from one hand.
He kissed her hair. “This is way more comfortable than the bed of my truck.”
She laughed, just a little chuckle that turned into a giggle that made Wyatt laugh along with her.
Gypsy sat back and took the whiskey bottle from Wyatt. She poured two fingers in each glass, settling the bottle on the floor before taking one of the glasses from Wyatt. “Let’s toast to me finding a manager.”
Wyatt’s eyes widened. “You chose someone?”
“I did, and she said yes. Brandy Mason. I was just looking at the books, trying to figure out how and when to hand things over to her.”
Wyatt grinned and lifted his glass. “To a successful day.”
They clinked, and while Gypsy sipped, Wyatt shot his back.
“Well,” he said, setting his glass on the floor, “mostly. I tried calling the number on Francie’s cell phone bill for her parents. The line was disconnected.”
“Damn.”
Wyatt sh
rugged. “I knew it was a long shot.”
The noise in the bar quieted as customers moved on to their next destination.
“I really appreciate you getting those names for me and for bartending tonight,” she told him. “I got so much done, and I feel like the vise I’ve been in for so long is finally easing.”
“You also made a shit ton of money. This place was packed to the rafters.” He set his glass on the floor beside the whiskey. “I’m too old for this bartending shit.”
“You can perform on stage in front of thousands for days on end, and you think bartending for a night is tough?”
“Don’t forget keeping a miniature human alive twenty-four seven. That’s the stuff that’ll kill you.”
“Have you talked to your parents yet?”
“No. They were as excited for this cruise as Cooper is for his camp.”
“People say kids forget things,” she said with a smile and roll of her eyes, “but he won’t stop talking about camp. He’s had his doctor’s appointment tomorrow marked on his X-Men calendar for a month.”
“Exactly,” Wyatt said. “And I don’t want to spoil the cruise for them. If I tell them what happened, they’d be on the next plane home.”
She ran her fingers across his jaw, and the touch soothed his fatigue. He covered her hand with his, bringing her palm to his lips.
Her gaze softened and heated. The sight made Wyatt’s heart float. He took the glass from her hand and set it on the floor beside his. Then he reached up and combed his fingers into her hair before pulling her down for a kiss.
Her lips were soft and hungry. She tasted like warm whiskey, and Wyatt took a long, slow taste. Tonight, she was the one who couldn’t wait, pushing his shirt up to his chest and running her hands over his skin. Excitement coiled inside him, and he slid his hands under her shirt and over the warm skin of her back. She made a purring sound into his mouth, and Wyatt’s body responded, growing hard and hot.