Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“I’m with her.” Tate points to me.
When I don’t say anything, Tate glares at me, silently reminding me of the rules: no pullin’ shit. I sigh. “He’s with me.” Clay looks back and forth between us, but I don’t have it in me to explain why he’s with me. The last thing I need is everyone treating me like a victim. “He’s my boyfriend.”
Tate’s brows rise. Then Clay’s.
“Damn, when did you get a man?”
About three hours ago. “He’s been around a while. Just wasn’t ready to share him with the world. He’s extra special.” I look at Tate and wink. He doesn’t return the gesture. Lame-o. “Anywho, he’s allowed.”
“Got it. Nice to meet ya, man. You got a great girl here.”
Tate nods and follows me into the bar. Bev’s is exactly how I described it—a dive bar. But damn, it has character. I walk in and wave to Leroy, the barback.
“That’s—”
“Leroy. I know.”
I cock my head. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“You know that’s creepy, right? I met you three hours ago, and you have my entire life memorized.”
“It’s my job.”
“Your job is creepy.” I face forward and continue walking. “I have to set up. You’re free to take a squat wherever. Not sure how exciting it’s going to be. We open in an hour. It won’t pick up ’til around nine or so. If you get hungry, let me know. Actually, don’t let me know. We don’t serve food, so there won’t be anything I can do for you—unless you want olives. I have the olive dinner special often.” I lift the latch door to the bar and climb under, shutting it behind me.
“You always leave your purse out in the open?” he asks as I slip my bag under the bar.
“Yeah, why not?” I disappear into the back room to grab the drawers for the registers.
“It’s not safe. Anyone can snag your shit. Steal your information.”
“Like who? Leroy?” I look toward the end of the bar where Leroy is cutting lemons.
“Anyone. It takes two seconds to reach over and take it.”
I chuckle, sliding a drawer into the register. “Not worried, pal. No one is going to steal my shit.”
I walk down the bar and slide the other drawer into the second register. Grabbing the cut fruit, I work my way back, placing the containers in designated spots. When I get back, Tate is looking at my— “Dude, what the hell?”
“Why aren’t you an organ donor?”
I reach over and attempt to snag my license out of his hands. “Give me that! Hey, macho man—”
He hands me my license, along with my entire fucking purse! Ugh. Point proven. “You have weirdly long arms.”
“Put your purse in the back. Somewhere you can lock it up.”
“Sure, I’ll get right on that.” I snatch my stuff from him and toss it back where it was just to defy him.
“Mindy!” Harry yells out, and I cock my head toward the back room.
“Coming.” I glare at Tate. “Stay put, my little guard dog.” The last thing I need is for Harry to start asking questions. He’s not a fan of boyfriends hanging around on shift. It hurts business as well as our tips. Not that he’s my boyfriend. More like an attractive nuisance. Did I mention he’s easy on the eyes? My nipples pebble at his deep-set, green eyes. Dammit, he’s fine. Like fine, fine. If he wasn’t such an ass, I would—
“You’re mumbling.”
I jump out of my skin at the warmth of his breath against my ear. I whip around, slamming into his chest. “Seriously?” We really need to stop meeting like this. “I told you to stay put.”
“And I want to make sure your surroundings are safe.”
“It’s only Harry. He’s old and has a beer gut. What’s the worse he can do?”
“Never underestimate what a predator is capable of.”
Okay… that wasn’t necessary. Neither is the thought of fat, gross Harry attacking me in the night with this tongue on my cheek… “Stop.” I close my eyes and shake my head. “Stop creating this fear in me.”
“You need to be aware.”
“I am aware! I’m very fucking aware.”
“Who the hell are you yelling at?” I pivot toward Harry, startled. He peers over at me like I’ve lost it.
“No one. Well, someone. Tate. My boyfriend.” God, that sounds all sorts of wrong coming out of my mouth. Harry’s nose scrunches.
“You have a boyfriend? Since when?”
Since three hours and seventeen minutes ago. “A long time.”
Harry stares at me for another beat, then bursts out laughing. “Whatever, doll face.”
Normally, I would laugh with him, but I don’t think it’s funny. “What’s so funny? I can have a boyfriend.”
“You? Wild Mindy? I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Oh yeah? Moving to the side, I grab Tate’s tee and tug him closer. Well… not really tug because he’s like a boulder. Thankfully, he helps me out and steps forward. “Believe it. Harry, meet Tate. Tate, meet my boss who thinks I can’t have a boyfriend.”