Page 26 of Darlin'

"Maybe we should wait for him to come back," I finally say, images of Beau mixed up in a deal gone bad running through my mind. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I were the reason something went wrong. He's probably already shaken up, knowing that I'm waiting for him here. I look at Marlow. "I don't want anything bad to happen to him."

"Beau's riding with the big dogs, Savannah. I think he'll be okay." Marlow rolls her eyes, pocketing her phone. "But fine. I guess it's only a couple more days." She gives me a sly smile. "Plus, JP never said I couldn't text him, so...fuck yeah for loopholes."

"Big dogs?" I glance over at the swinging bar door. An older gentleman with aviators and a denim button-up shirt looks me up and down, frowning before he strides over to the bar stools. "Who are the big dogs?"

"Billy, Jimbo, Ryder," Marlow replies, noticing table four indicate that they'd like the bill. She pulls out her receipt pad, jotting down and calculating their order. "Jo's with them too this time." She glowers, mentally calculating the tax. "Apparently, it was 'Bring your Old Lady to Work' day.Ican't evencallBeau, but Jimbo can bring hiswifeon a road trip? Stupid."

"Who's Jimbo?" I ask, pinching my brows together. "And Billy, and Ryder, and uh...Jo?"

"I keep forgetting you know shit all." Marlow sighs, giving table four a fake smile as they continue to draw the international symbol for "I want the damn bill" in the air. "Fuck, these townies are impatient." She shakes her head, gathering her thoughts. "Right, so Billy is JP's dad; he's the president of The Sons. Jimbo is Billy's brother, and Jo"—she rolls her eyes—"Joanneis Jimbo's wife. Oh, and Ryder's their son. About your age, I think."

Table four yells something incoherent at Marlow, and she whips her head in their direction. "I'm fucking coming! Calm your tits, Poe!" she grumbles under her breath as she nods at the man sitting at the corner of the bar. "At leastthatdude's always patient. Go, I'll give you more deets later."

"Okay." I blink, memorizing the Paxton family tree as I stride toward the man in the denim shirt. "Hi there, what can I get for you?"

"I haven't seen you around here before," the man says in a velvety tone. He slowly removes his sunglasses and places them on the counter. His dark brown eyes flicker across my face with pointed curiosity. "Are you new?"

"Third day," I say, swallowing as my cheeks burn up. Crap, he’s good looking. "I'm Savannah."

"Savannah," he rasps, nodding as he looks around the bar. "Interesting."

I tilt my head. "What?"

"It's just..." He licks his lips, resting his forearms on the counter as he leans over and whispers, "You don't really fit in here."

"You don't say," I snort, patting his arm. "I'm just helping out for a few days 'til my brother comes home."

"Your brother?" he asks, raising a brow. "Let me guess..." He gives me a cunning smile. "Radley?"

My eyes spring open. "You know him?"

The man shrugs, clicking his tongue. "I know everyone, Savannah." His lips curl up into a smirk. "Except you, that is."

"Oh, there's not much to know about me," I say, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind my ear. "I'm not that fascinating of a person."

"I would disagree," the man says, turning his attention to the boisterous laughter coming from the clubhouse.

Yeti emerges through the doors, Jesse strutting behind him. I catch Jesse's stiff gaze, and he frowns at me, changing his course away from the booths and guiding Yeti toward me.

The man tips his head at my employer. “JP, Tiny, nice to see you guys sober for once." He nods at me. "I was just chatting with your new bartender here." He gives me a subtle side-eye as my name slips off his tongue like silk. "Savannah."

"Miguel." Jesse's expression hardens as he squeezes the man's shoulder. "Back so soon? What? Got tired of the Mexican sun?"

"The sun, I don't mind," Miguel says with a light chuckle. "It's my mother that drove me back to California a week early." He pats Jesse's hand, removing it from his shoulder. "Figured a two-week visit was more than enough to tide her over for a while." He flashes me a grin. "Mothers are something else, aren't they?"

"Oh, you don't need to tell me twice." I giggle. "My momma makes mosquitos look like dang ladybugs."

"Is that so?" Miguel asks, chuckling. "Maybe we can swap horror stories one day."

"Oh, I've got journals full," I say, ignoring Jesse's icypresence. What is his deal?So rude.I smile at Miguel. “It might take more than a day for the great retelling of Caroline Kingsley, though."

"Lucky for me, I'm on vacation for another week," Miguel says, craning his head as he grins up at Jesse. "You might see me in here a little more often now."

"You're welcome anytime," Jesse states with an edge as he briefly flicks his hazel eyes at me, hints of anger brimming the outer green ring. "But don't distract my bartender. She's here to work, not play."

"Oh, come on, Jesse." I roll my eyes. "A little socializing won't burn your flapjacks. Plus"—I motion around the bar—"it's not that busy in here mid-day."

Jesse blinks. "Flapjacks?"

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