Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Turning, I head for the door then stop and turn back to apologize again, almost swallowing my tongue when I do, because he’s in the process of taking off his shirt. And what’s under that shirt should be illegal. Lots and lots of tight muscle under smooth, glorious tan skin. “Gia, I’m starting to think you’ve got a thing for me.”
His words snap me back to reality and my face instantly burns so hot that I know you could probably cook an egg on it. “I’m… I’m going to go change.” I turn on my heels and make a beeline for the bathroom. Slamming the door behind me, I press my back against it. Natasha and I shouldn’t have toasted to cowboys; we should have toasted to hot guys who work at biker bars that leave you all tied up and discombobulated.
I strip out of my wet cami and sweater and place both of them on the back of the toilet that has a handwritten sign on it stating that it’s out of order, then turn on the water. Using hand soap and paper towels, I wash up, trying to remove the smell of beer off me. It’s impossible; it’s in my hair, on my pants, and in my shoes. I’m going to go home smelling like freshmen year of college.
Picking up the dry shirt, I pull it on over my head then turn to face the mirror. The shirt is for the Rusty Rose softball team, and apparently they have been undefeated three years in a row, which is pretty damn impressive. Tossing my beer-soaked tops into the sink, I rinse them off then wring them out as best as I can before leaving the bathroom. Colton isn’t in the office, thank God, but when I step out into the bar, he’s there with a woman and they are both using mops and towels to clean up the floor. Dropping my purse to the tops of the bar, I grab a couple of towels and start cleaning up.
Getting down on my hands and knees, I wipe back behind the kegs of beer and along the edge of the bar under the counter. After getting the rest of the beer off the bottom edge of where the glasses are kept, I stand up, pushing my hair out of my face, then blink at Colton and the woman staring at me. Looking at her, I know she’s his mom. They have the same dark eyes and lashes, and the same full lips.
“Um…” I look to the left then back at them. “I’m really, really sorry about the mess I made, and if you guys don’t want me to work here, I totally understand,” I say, wringing the towel in my hand and cringing as I wring out some of the beer onto the floor.
“You look just like her,” the woman says, making my stomach twist. Even though she didn’t say who she’s talking about, I still know all the same, since she has the same look in her eyes that my dad used to get. Like it was almost painful for him to look at me.
“Ma, this is Gia Caro,” Colton introduces, resting his hand on his mom’s shoulder. “Gia, my mom, Rose.”
“Nice to meet you.” I stick out my hand and her eyes drop to it before she looks at me once more. Shaking her head, she takes my hand in hers then pulls me in, making me stumble forward.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Gia. Excuse my manners from earlier.” She lets me go then takes my hands in hers. “I knew your mom, and seeing you just caught me off guard.”
“It’s all right,” I reassure her, and she releases the hold she has on my hands.
“Your mom and I were friends. Well, I guess your mom, dad, and I were friends, before they left town.”
“Really?” I ask, and she smiles softly at me then tips her head to the side as sadness fills her eyes.
“How’s your grandma doing?”
“She’s okay,”
“Good.” She pulls her eyes from me and looks up at her son briefly. “Colton said you’re starting tomorrow?”
My eyes go from her to the pile of wet bar towels on the floor and the mop sitting in a bucket full of dirty water. “That was the plan, as long as you still want me.”
“Not too many women are willing to get down on their hands and knees to clean the floor, honey. That right there shows me you’re not afraid of getting your hands dirty with a little hard work.”
“I’m not,” I confirm, and she smiles again.
“Tomorrow, I’ll be here in the morning and will go over everything that needs to be done before the doors open at noon. There’s not a long list of stuff to do, but what’s on that list does take time, since we don’t clean the bar after closing.”