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)
“S’up?” is all Tate says.
Harry stares at him, his mouth open in shock. Gee, thanks, Harry.
“Take that. Tate thinks I’m amazing, and he loves my wild. He says it’s sexy and a huge turn-on, right, babe?” I turn to Tate, and because I refuse to be the noncommittal person, I stand on my tippy toes, wrap my arm around his neck, and slap my lips to his. His body stiffens for a beat, then he snakes his arm around my waist. My feet leave the ground as he pulls me to him. Just as quickly, I release him and wiggle out of his hold, turning back to Harry. “Now, was there something you needed?” What the hell did I just do? You kissed your babysitter. And it was not gross. It was anything but gross.
“No. It’s country night. No overpouring the tequila.”
“Got it.” I turn on my heel and lean into Tate, whispering, “That was super gross, by the way.” With that, I hustle back behind the bar—away from him and his extraordinary mouth—almost stumbling at the sound of his low chuckle.
Fuck.
Chapter three
Mindy
This is why I don’t work country night—and why I should. The bar is slammed, filled with cowboy hats, daisy dukes, and knee-high boots. I’m almost jealous of some of their getups. The good part is the tips are rolling in. The bad part? It’s overcrowded, and people are drinking like fish. Not that I don’t encourage it—we’re in a fucking bar—but this is when people start getting rude, patience becomes nonexistent, and grabby hands become a problem.
Not to mention, Hercules looks ready to snap a cowboy in half.
“What can I get ya, handsome?” I ask the drunk cowboy as he leans into the bar.
“Five tequilas and your phone number.”
I smile and raise one eyebrow. “The tequila, I can help with. The phone number? Not so much. I don’t believe in phones.” I walk away before he can respond. Filling five shot glasses, I slide them across the bar. “That’ll be thirty-five.”
The guy slides the cash across the bar, grabbing my hand in the process. “You sure about that number?”
“She’s sure.” I roll my eyes at the sound of his voice.
Tequila Cowboy turns to Tate. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”
My brows go up, impressed. He’s not much bigger than I am and has the cojones to go up against Tate?
“I’m only gonna ask this once. Remove your hand from hers.”
“Tate, it’s fine.”
“Tate.” Tequila Cowboy laughs. “What the fuck kind of name is—fuck!”
In a matter of point-five seconds, Tate snatches TC’s hand and twists to the brink of almost snapping his wrist. “Tate!” I yell.
“Touch her again, and you’ll find out.” He releases him, and TC stumbles back.
“What the hell, Parks?” Harry storms up, witnessing the whole thing. Fuck.
“Sorry. He wouldn’t let me go.”
“So, you call for a barback.” Harry stares me down, and I stare Tate down.
“I know. Sorry. It’s all good. I’ll pay for the shots. There, I saved the day. The bar’s not going to go under over five shots.”
A pile of cash is thrown across the bar. I follow the money trail to Tate as he slides his wallet into his back pocket.
Harry eyes the cash, which is way more than thirty-five dollars. “This doesn’t happen again. Make sure that goes in the register.” Then he storms off.
I, on the other hand, am ready to battle. “What the actual fuck was that?” I explode.
“He shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.”
“Thanks, Dad. But I had it covered.”
“You sure about that?”
Thunder booms over my head. “Look around, Daddio. This place is filled with assholes who tend to get grabby. It’s almost one in the morning. What do you expect to happen? I’m trained to deal with them. The last thing I need is for you to get in my way.” He stares back at me like I can’t take care of myself. “You know what? This was a bad idea. You can leave. You’re fired.”
“You can’t fire me.”
“Why not? You work for me.”
“I work for Theo Monroe.”
“And I will happily tell Theo Monroe I fired you.”
“That’s not how this works, babe.”
The thunder turns into a freaking atomic. “Do not call me babe.”
“What else would I call my girlfriend, babe?”
That’s it. “Leave.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Act as childish as you want, but I’m not going anywhere. You try to kick me out, I’ll take out every single person in this bar until you and I are the last ones standing. Feel me, babe?”
“You’re an asshole.” I walk away, then return, adding, “And so fired.”
I finish the rest of my shift without seeing Tate, though I feel him watching me. The night ends without any more mishaps, and I wave goodbye to Rebecca, the waitress, and Leroy. Grabbing my purse, I stuff my tips in it and cautiously step outside. The good news is I think I finally lost my watchdog. The bad news is now I don’t have a ride home. I pull my phone from my back pocket to order an Uber when Tate’s voice startles me, making me drop it. “Dude, a little warning!” I bend down, snatching my phone and making sure it didn’t crack my screen.