Page 9 of The Devil in Blue Jeans
Jaxon fixed her with a steady look. “Why don’t you date?”
“It’s exhausting,” she said simply.
Amusement glinted in his eyes as he asked, “What about drinks between friends, then?”
“We’re not friends,” she pointed out firmly.
He smiled his dazzling smile again. “Not yet we’re not. But we could be if you let me.”
Charly took a deep breath, examining him. Certainly, she had a few options here. She could shut him down with one sharp remark or end it in the most courteous way possible, but an idea suddenly began to form—one that would rival any scheme a player could come up with. “All right, let’s meet for drinks here tomorrow evening at eight o’clock. Bring your buddies too!”
“Drinks it is,” he said with a devastating smile that likely charmed many women. Even Charly felt an urge to get a little closer to him. “See you then.”
She quickly turned away before she changed her mind about her decision.
“Hey, Charly,” he called after her, and when she glanced back over her shoulder, he winked and said, “Get some good rest tonight. I don’t want you tired for our...drinks.”
Charly returned the grin and replied teasingly, “Please, cowboy, you won’t be able to keep up.”
His low, throaty chuckle was full of things that made her body heat and remained with her the entire night she kept busy serving customers—yet more concerning was how she laughed along with him. It dawned on Charly then just how long it had been since she had laughed so carefreely. Too long.
By the time she pulled up in front of the light blue house on Quiet Oak Road that she’d bought with Willow and Aubrey later that night after they closed the bar, Charly did, in fact, feel exhausted. The day had been long and tiresome. Hell, the last seven weeks had been draining.
As she parked in their driveway, her cell phone burst into life. One glance at the screen had her heart leaping into her throat. Only Marcel would call at two o’clock in the morning. He was probably drunk. She stepped out of the car and answered the call. “I hope you rot in a bucket of your own vomit,” she said to Marcel before abruptly hanging up.
Willow chuckled, shutting the car’s door behind her. “I see that jerk is still trying to call.”
Charly followed Aubrey and Willow through a white gate leading to a cobbled path and up to the dark oak entrance door. Their house was straight out of a Western movie with flowered wallpaper, a grand foyer with an elegant wooden staircase and large windows allowing plenty of natural light during the day. From their backyard they could spot mountains off in the distance, while wildflowers scattered throughout the green space meant there was always fresh cut blossoms on their kitchen table. Huge trees framed the quarter-acre property, which attracted birds and other wildlife.
The real estate prices in Timber Falls were much cheaper than in the larger cities. Using the money they got from selling their homes, all three shared the expense and owned the house debt-free, except for the bar. That they held a mortgage on, which gave them even more reason to make it a success.
Once Willow opened the front door, Charly told her, “Marcel thinks we should talk things over. I legit don’t get what he wants to talk about?” She’d walked in on him screwing the head bartender right on the bar. What could he possibly say?
She hadn’t talked to him since that day. She got on an airplane that night and headed to Aubrey, then hired a company to pack up her belongings. She’d only been in Atlanta two weeks before they’d FaceTimed Willow and all decided that fate had led them to the pact.
Everything after that had happened so fast. They bought the bar in Timber Falls and then the house, and the rest was history.
Aubrey shut the front door behind her and scoffed. “You don’t owe Marcel anything, not even a moment of your time.”
Willow proceeded to the kitchen and Charly took up residence on the comfy living room couch full of mismatched throw pillows, rubbing her sore feet.
Aubrey joined her. “I really hope the bar gets busier.”
“You and me both.” Charly nodded in agreement, switching to the other foot. “Tomorrow is what will either make or break us.”
Tomorrow was their first big event to celebrate women, and they needed the ladies in town and out to talk about it.
“I agree,” said Willow as she returned with a tray of hummus and crackers and cheese. She placed it on the coffee table. “One idea I had was playing Smash or Pass and having hot actors printed on posters.”
“That sounds fun,” Aubrey commented.
Charly nodded in approval. “I like that too, but we also need to talk about those peeved regulars who keep coming in. We have seriously pissed some people off.”
“No kidding,” Willow said, as she put some cheese on a cracker. “We don’t want people to hate us before we even get going.”
“Maybe we just need to show them we’re part of their inner circle, so to speak,” Charly said. “What if we got Jaxon, the cowboy those ladies were talking about, to take part in a date auction?”
Willow’s eyebrows shot up. “What could possibly make him agree to that? He doesn’t know us.”
