“Fuck, you’re so lame,” Owen quips, clapping Dean on the back. “Drink as much as you want, Quinn. On the house.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Quinn laughs, getting another cherry out of her cup. “I have a very small window to enjoy alcohol before Archer knocks me up again. Like tonight.”
Dean wrinkles his nose, put off as always by the thought of his childhood friend marrying—and knocking up—our sister. “That’s even more disgusting than the vodka-cherries.”
Quinn laughs, enjoying poking at Dean. I go back around the bar, making drinks for a few customers before bringing Quinn a Jack and Coke, trading it for the glass of cherries. It’s a weekday night, but the bar is busy, as it always is. I go back and forth between filling drink orders, cleaning up spilled booze, hassling Owen to do his fucking job, and talking with Quinn and Dean, who are waiting for Archer to get off work to join them.
A storm is blowing in, and the power flickers. We have a generator, but it’s still a pain in the ass to deal with. Though storms always seem good for business. People still come in despite the weather, but those who are already here tend to order an extra drink and wait out the rain.
I’m wiping down the bar top when a clap of thunder booms overhead, rattling the windows. I look up at that exact moment, and the door to the bar swings open. Danielle walks in, and a feeling I try to ignore bubble in my stomach. Her long, brunette hair is down today, hanging in waves around her face. The white t-tank top she has on is speckled with raindrops. Immediately, my mind goes to what she’d look like if her shirt were completely drenched.
She looks through the crowd, meets my eye, and smiles as she makes her way over. The whole world stops when she’s around, and looking at her now isn’t much different than looking at her for the first time. Her sea-green eyes shine no matter how dim it is in the room. The energy around her is magnetic, drawing you in even if you try to resist.
And trust me, I’ve resisted.
I push all feelings aside, trying to convince myself Danielle is just one of the guys, and smile back.
“You must really miss me,” I quip, raising my eyebrows as Danielle comes up to the bar. “I mean, to come in on your day off just to see me.”
Danielle snags a seat at the bar and rolls her eyes. “Busted. Those secret photos I have of you weren’t doing the job. My plan was to ‘accidentally’ leave my phone out and hope you’d take the hint I need a dick pic or two.”
I laugh as I reach under the counter for a glass. “I’m sure I can get you at least a dozen dick pics. Can’t promise it’ll be of mine. You can’t handle all that.”
Laughing, Danielle makes a show of running her eyes up and down me. It’s meant in fun, but her smile starts to fade and a flush comes to her cheeks. Blinking rapidly, she looks away, reaching up for a strand of her hair to twist around her fingers.
“What are you doing here?” I pour whiskey into her glass and slide it over.
She brings the glass to her lips and takes a big sip. “My grandpa has a lady friend over.” She shudders. “And Adele doesn’t like to drive in the rain so she’s staying the night.” She takes another sip of whiskey and slowly shakes her head. “I didn’t want to risk overhearing anything.” She sets the glass down, looking up at me with wide eyes. “And it also made me realize that even dear old gramps has a better love life than I do.”
I hate that I like hearing that. I don’t want her to have a love life with anyone who’s not me. I laugh again and set the bottle of whiskey on the counter in front of her.
“You need this tonight. Drown your sorrows. And Quinn is here. Maybe you can take one of her cats and slowly start living out your fate as a crazy cat lady.”
“Thanks, Dawson,” she spits and takes the whiskey. Snickering, I step to the side, taking a drink order from one of our regulars. I give Mr. Fenton his beer and lean on the counter in front of Danielle again.
“Your sister would never give up one of her cats.” She finishes her whiskey and pours a little more in her glass.
“Never hurts to ask.”
Danielle cocks an eyebrow. “I’d rather keep my head.”
I laugh again and see Archer walk through the door of the bar. “Ask him first. He’ll gladly give you two or three.”
Danielle turns and sees Archer. She shakes her head and turns back around. “He’s so whipped. He’d come home with another two or three if Quinn really wanted them.”