Page 27 of Single Girl in the City
“That one’s going on the wall of fame,” Clay said, referring to the large wall at the back of the bar that housed signed photos of celebrities and popular regulars.
Owen managed to get Cindy through the crowd and to the front door. All and all it took five minutes, but Owen would have the bruises for weeks.
By the time he walked back in, his brothers’ plates were empty and his was cold. Appetite gone, he cleared the dishes and stood behind the bar.
“Seriously? What happened to all for one and one for all?”
“What happened to hiring more staff? Had there been just one more person working tonight, they would have spotted Cindy sneaking into the bar.”
While this was a true statement, it also pissed Owen off. It wasn’t that he didn’t want more staff. He did. He just didn’t want to hire the wrong staff. But he’d given into peer pressure and put up a job posting on the bar’s website. He’d gotten a few hits. “I’m interviewing more people tomorrow starting at eleven.”
“How about the interview for your date to Mom’s birthday?”
Clearing away an empty pitcher, he grabbed a towel and wiped down the bar top. “It’s not happening. I called Sydney and she was about as excited over the setup as I was, so she’s bringing some guy from work to get our moms off our backs. And before you ask, I’m not bringing anyone.”
“Tell that to Mom. She’s got your Date 2.0 all picked out,” Gage said, and Owen groaned.
“I heard she met her at bible study,” Clay said.
Gage laughed. “She’s going to take one look at you and run for the hills.”
Wasn’t that the truth. If his size didn’t scare them off, then his tattoos did. Or the fact that he worked around the clock. His job wasn’t conducive to building lasting relationships, which was why he didn’t bother to look for anything beyond the occasional breakfast in bed.
“I’ll go with you,” he heard a smoky voice say. He turned and all he saw was gorgeous. Whiskey eyes, full mouth, and a smile that scrambled his brain.
Abi was sitting at the bar, her chin resting on a fist, looking deceptively sweet. She was also looking smoking hot. She had on glossy lips, this thin white sweater, the see-through kind that hinted at the white lace beneath, and that damn wrist brace.
“Hello?” She snapped her fingers in his face.
“What?” He found himself asking, in case he’d misheard because of the volume in the bar.
“I said, I’ll be your date,” she repeated, as if that wouldn’t end in disaster. It was clear as day that their chemistry was off the charts. But they were as compatible as a cactus and a balloon animal. Not to mention she’d obviously been through some kind of trauma. The bruises, the easy way she startled, the sadness behind those big, brown eyes.
Then there was her arm brace, looking like big neon light flashinghandle with care. And if there was one thing Owen knew about himself, it was that he wasn’t all that great with the caring for someone part. At least that’s what his ex had told him when he’d asked her why she’d cheated.
Nah, Abi had been through something, something bad, and he didn’t want to be one other hardship in her life. Kissing had been a mistake. Weren’t those the words she’d used? Nope, going on a date was a hard pass. It would only lead to kissing, which would lead to touching and eventually sex, and finally a keg full of complications. Which was why he was going to his mom’s party solo.
“Not happening,”
Abi looked down at herself and he could see her bristle. “Why am I not happening?”
He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings. In fact, he was thinking of nothing other than her feelings, and how she might misunderstand what a date to his mom’s birthday would entail. It would be a no attachments, no strings, and no breakfast in bed come morning kind of date that would leave her hurt and confused, two things that were already surfacing in her wide eyes.
Shit.He gentled his voice. “I don’t need a date is all.”
As if this weren’t an awkward conversation to begin with, his brothers all burst out laughing. Abi did not. Her eyes narrowed, her lips pursed, and her hands purposefully hung by her side. Maybe it was the electricity caused by the breeze rushing through the bar, or maybe she was some kind of mythical conduit, but she went from jokester to a human lie detector with a single blink of an eye.
“Well, isn’t that a steaming pile of malarkey. Take a big whiff, boys.” She made a big deal about sniffing. “Can’t you smell it? That’s the smell of a cornered mama’s boy.”
“Here I thought it was Bengay,” Rhett said, all kinds of amused. And that’s when Owen noticed it, the easy way she fit in with his brothers. They were tall and gregarious in big crowds, which can be intimidating.
Not this spitfire. She could give as well as she took. And handle his brothers like a pro. Still, handling his brothers at the bar was a far cry from bringing her home for a family meal, something he hadn’t done since Elena and something he hadn’t planned on doing for a long while.
Plus, stronger men had come before and their wives had barely lived to tell the tale. Why put them through all the stress since she was leaving for Asia soon?
“Clearly by the conversations you have going on with yourself, you do. Don’t worry, I’ll bring a purse big enough to hide your Depends and when people ask me what that Bengay scent is, I’ll blame it on my breath mints.”
“Will you bring your journal too?” he asked, and her face reddened with embarrassment, leaving him feeling like a class-A jerk. “I just don’t want to be one of your Goodwill Toward Men cases.”
