Page 7 of His Curvy Happiness
“I just do, okay. Can we drop it?”
Andre opened his mouth to say something else, but I glared hard at him, and he snapped his trap shut.
Thank fuck.
He parked along the street, three blocks from O’Kelley’s. We said hello to a few people as we walked toward the bar, but otherwise, Andre was quiet.
O’Kelley’s was crowded. We pushed our way inside, fighting for space as we worked toward the bar, where everyone met on Thursday nights. Hudson Grant, the owner, jerked his head toward the end of the bar where the other guys were sitting and standing, huddled together and glaring at anyone who tried to take one of the open stools they’d commandeered.
“Thank you,” Ian Jameson said, taking his hand off the back of an empty stool. “I thought I was going to have to fight someone. Good to see you guys.”
“Thanks for saving seats,” Andre said. “What’s going on tonight?”
“New local band asked if they could play. I agreed, but I had no idea they would bring in this big of a crowd,” Hudson explained.
“Good for business, though,” Andre told him.
“Yeah, but I wish I had a few more servers and another bartender to help out,” Hudson said.
“I did some bartending in college. Need a hand?” I offered.
Hudson raised a brow. “Yeah? You wouldn’t mind?”
I shook my head and slid off the stool I’d just taken, nodding to Ramsey Holland as he walked up. Ramsey took the stool before anyone else could steal it, and I walked around the end of the bar to join Hudson.
Hudson gave me a quick rundown of where everything was, then left me to handle our group while he checked on some of the other patrons. I took orders and handed over drinks before easing my way down the bar to help the rest of the waiting customers.
The band started to play, a heavy rock sound with a beat that had their fans on their feet and dancing, singing along with most of the music. Hudson and I worked well together, filling orders and keeping the customers happy as the band entertained the crowd.
When the band took a quick break, Hudson thanked me for helping out. “I don’t know what I would have done without you. I never would have kept up.”
“Not a problem. It’s been a while since I’ve been behind the bar. It was fun.”
“Like riding a bike?”
I chuckled. “Something like that.”
“You drink for free forever,” Hudson said.
I shook my head as James Rucker shouted, “Hey! Why don’t I ever get that offer?”
Hudson flipped James off. “When have you ever gotten off your ass to help?”
James scowled. “I’m a cop. I think there’s a law against me being allowed to serve drinks.”
“Then sit your ass down and shut up about it,” Hudson said, a teasing light in his eyes. They were two of the originals, men who’d been friends for years.
I smirked at their easy banter and thought about TooBusy. Talking to her was like that. Easy. There wasn’t any pressure between us, which was nice and new for me. I had no idea who she was, but she said she lived in MacKellar Cove, so I wondered if maybe I did know her.
I shook off the thought. There was no way. She was a single mom, and she said she worked a lot to be able to take care of her daughter. I didn’t know any single moms. Even if she wasn’t a single mom, I didn’t know anyone I felt such an easy connection to. Someone I could say things to that I didn’t admit to anyone else.
The band started to play again, and the crowd pressed in to listen and dance and sing along. When they announced they were done for the night, they told everyone to get one more drink and to come back to O’Kelley’s soon as a thank you for letting them play that night. The bar was slammed, three people deep, with happy and excited customers waiting for another drink.
An hour later, the crowd had thinned, and most of the men in the group had left to go home to their families. Andre stuck around, which was nice since he was my ride home, but his nose was in his phone and the smile on his face was his Joelle smile.
“You ready to go?” I asked him.
He shoved his phone away before I could see what they’d been texting, but I didn’t need to see it to know I didn’t want to see it.
