“You should get down from there,” he said.
In one fluid motion, she lowered herself to sitting, her feet dangling off the bar beside him. Her quick repositioning jostled his grip, sliding his hand up the curve of her calf. He pulled away, clenching his jaw so tightly it looked like his teeth might crack.
“Better?” she asked.
He grunted in response and took a long sip of his beer, a local stout from the craft brewery on the edge of town. Handsome and good taste? Mr. Silver Fox kept getting better and better.
A burst of cheering rose from the crowd as Midnight Storm finished their set. On the low platform serving as a stage, Jackson Hayes reached between his shoulder blades, pulled off his sweaty t-shirt, and tossed it into the crowd. Beside her, Mr. Silver Fox sighed heavily and shook his head, muttering to himself as he took another sip of his beer.
“Not a Jackson fan?” she asked.
He glared at the pop star in question as Jackson posed for photos with the women at the front of the crowd. “I’d prefer if he kept his clothing on.”
“Please, that boy is practically feral,” Jo laughed.
“That boy isn’t aboyanymore. It’s time for him to grow the fuck up.”
“Jo! Hey, JoJo!” She turned her attention away from Mr. Silver Fox as Jackson wove his way through his adoring fans towards the bar, his arm around a leggy redhead at his side. “You looked great up there.” He gestured with his free handto the bar she still sat on.
“Right back at ya. You wouldn’t be saying that to butter me up so I get you another free drink, now would you?” Jo asked, propping her chin on her knuckles.
Jackson ran his hand through his hair and side-eyed Mr. Silver Fox as though he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “It’s not for me. My friend here wants a Long Island Iced Tea.”
“Then yourfriendcan order for herself,” Mr. Silver Fox said, his voice low and menacing. “You’re cut off, Jackson.”
Jo’s attention snapped to the man beside her, thrown by his sharp response. He drained his beer and set the bottle down with an aggressive clink against the bar top. Jackson dropped his arm from around the woman’s waist and took a step towards Mr. Silver Fox, the redhead all but forgotten.
“What are you even doing here, bossman?” Jackson asked, a shadow crossing his features. “I thought we wouldn’t see you until tomorrow.”
“Change of plans. I’m here to make sure you get to California on time.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Jackson spat.
“Could have fooled me.”
Jackson pouted, but whatever retort he had readied was cut off when his twin brother Beckett arrived at his side, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ve got this, Derek. We’ll be there.”
“Great show tonight, Becks,” Jo said, twisting a lock of her platinum blonde hair around her finger.
The muscular tattooed man blushed, the tips of hisears turning crimson. It was remarkably easy to embarrass the alleged bad boy, a fact which absolutely delighted her. “Thanks, Jo,” he mumbled. Then, to his twin, “C’mon. The guys are waiting.”
Jo and Mr. Silver Fox watched as the brothers wound their way towards the back hallway and the side exit. So much for another big tip. She hated asking for an extension on the rent—again—but it didn’t seem like she was going to have much choice.
“You know the guys?” he asked, a hint of disapproval in his tone.
She slid off the polished surface, landing back behind the bar and taking his empty beer bottle with her. “A bit.”
She felt his eyes on her as she collected empty bottles and glasses, carefully drying the few beer-damp bills left for her on the side of her skirt. The heat of his gaze burned, embarrassment crawling up her throat as she tucked the tips into her bra for safekeeping. His eyes tracked every move, his hands curling into fists on the bar top.
She grabbed a rag and began wiping down the area in front of him. This was her bar, her town, and she would not be ashamed of the life she’d built for herself, even if it was crumbling beneath her. She would smile and flirt, like she always did, and later she’d comfort herself with the knowledge that, for a little while, this sophisticated man had cared enough to worry about her safety. For one night, she wished she could lose herself in the fantasy that a guy like him, with his tailored clothing and his fancy shoes, might choose the girl behind thebar.
But Jo long ago stopped wishing for things she couldn’t have.
“Derek, was it?” Mr. Silver Fox nodded. “Aster Bay’s a small town, Derek. My friend Hannah is close with Jackson, and this isn't the first time Midnight Storm has played a show here on my shift. But I’m betting you already knew that, seeing as you’re… from the label?” she guessed.
He grunted in affirmation.
“Jackson’s not all that fond ofthe label,” she said, leaning unnecessarily on the last two words.