If the other girls hanging around and looking at him wistfully are anything to go by, Charlie’s packing some serious heat. Then again, none of those girls have managed to nail him down.
And none of them were walking around, thinking of baby names in their spare time. Yep, I need to keep my hands to myself. My eyes, however…
A pleasant sigh leaves me as Charlie turns and sets the boxes down, giving me a good shot of his ass. It's perfect, nice and round. I swear, I never even noticed things like that before I met Charlie.
I chew my lip as I lean forward just a hair wondering if he does a lot of squats at the gym, or if his bubble butt is natural. Okay, maybe this is a little too much. Sitting back on the stool, I shake off my over active hormones and remind myself that he’s just a guy that is a part of this safe space I’ve made for myself to unwind.
He turns around just as I’m nodding to myself and catches me still looking at his rear. “Hey, stranger.”
Shit. I blush deep red, because I forgot the most stunning thing about Charlie: his eyes. They’re a kind of moss green color, something straight out of National Geographic.
“Hey,” I manage, the single word somehow coming out as two syllables, and I break off eye contact. I realize that my crush on Charlie is all it will ever be, a crush. I need to stop being such a weirdo.
I make eye contact again.
“Where have you been? It’s been a whole week since I’ve seen your face around here,” he teases.
“Oh. Just work,” I say with a shrug. “You know, the usual.”
“Yeah?” he says, grabbing a small worn hand towel and wiping off his hands. “That’s it, huh?”
“That’s it.”
His voice drops as he leans against the bar. “Nothing interesting to report?”
Somehow, he manages to make that sound filthy. God help me. There’s a charm about his raised brow and the way he looks expectantly at me. The fluttering in my chest needs to quit it.
“Nope.” I push my hair back off my shoulders, feeling a little hotter than I should.
“Too bad. I was looking forward to you telling me some tales.” He looks down the bar and nods to someone he knows. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Umm… something chilled with vodka but tastes fruity.”
“You got it.” With a pat on the bar from him, I smile broadly. That’s one of the reasons I love being here.
He moves down the bar to fulfill my order, and I nearly groan to see him go.
Yeah, it’s safe to say that I’m holding a bit of a torch for him. I know he’s not what I want — he’s hot, but completely allergic to commitment. It’s why I’ve never approached him like that. He knows I’m on the prowl, as he says, for a husband and someone to settle away from the city with. As he’s told me before, he has no intention of settling down. Still, there’s no law against looking, is there?
My chin fits right into place in the palm of my hand and I sigh to myself while I stare after him.
Charlie
Well, my day just got a whole lot better. Grace is one of my regulars, and a favorite customer. It helps that she’s hot as hell. I smirk as I fill the shaker with a shot of vodka and then a bit more and set the bottle back on ice behind the bar. Her smile’s a little weak but a drink or two and her sweet feminine laugh will come out easy enough.
“Charlie,” Mickey calls out to me. He’s another regular and the uncle of one of my employees.
I give him a nod, grabbing a tall glass and throwing the handle for the Guinness back to get Mickey another. He’ll be here all night, staring up at the college games on the televisions above me.
There are plenty of regulars, some of them like family. Grace isn’t like that. I don’t know how to describe her to be honest. I just know I like it when she’s here.
I slide him the beer, scooting it across the bar top. I’m half tempted to ask him where the hell his nephew is since he never showed up for work, but it’s not like he’d know. The bar is just outside the city and located in a small town. Bringing up business to Mickey isn’t going to help any. He’s a retired cop, and his wife passed away from cancer not too long ago. I’m not going to give him a hard time because his nephew doesn’t have a clue what work ethic is.
“Thank you, sir,” Mickey tells me, grabbing his beer. He doesn’t even look away from the game on television. Beer, football, and a crowded place keep him sane and help him deal with it all.
“Charlie!” Maggie calls out from behind me. She swings open the doors to the back and walks through as she throws on her apron. Thank fuck she’s here.
“Is the kitchen all set?” she asks. She puts her arms around her back, as she ties the apron.
“Yeah, it should be ready for you,” I tell her, grabbing the short iced down glass for Grace. I try to fight back my agitation.
James is really looking to be fired. I’ve absolutely had it with him getting drunk after closing and not showing up the next day. He’s young and stupid. I know what that lifestyle
