“Hey, pretty lady, how ‘bout you pour one of those for yourself?”
Stopping mid-pour, Julie looked at the private first class and offered her sweetest smile. “Aww, aren’t you sweet. I appreciate the offer, but I don’t drink while I’m working.” The guy’s disbelieving look made her continue explaining. “Can’t serve all of you men quickly enough if I’m tipsy, can I?” She punctuated her statement with a flirty wink, rung up the round, and placed his generous tip in the bucket behind the bar.
She’d learned while bartending back in high school that a small amount of sugar always brought in the highest tips, but too much sweetness brought the largest amount of trouble. As if proving her point, Bunny leaned over the bar, breasts smashed against the sticky wood, so a man could lick salt from her neck and reach into her cavernous cleavage for a tiny slice of lemon. Her hyena-like giggles drew attention from both drunken men and irritated women. All of that for what? The clink of fifty cents that the pock-marked, yellowed-skinned ancient man dropped on the bar before strolling out the door into the thick night air. Yeah, Bunny’s sugar was more like fly paper. Ick.
“Sugar, can we get two pitchers of beer and four wine coolers? Any flavor will do.” The deep, melodic voice didn’t quite match the average height, medium-build man who stood before her. His sandy-blond hair was pulled away from his face and tied into a low ponytail, and his eyes, the most intriguing shade of turquoise, held promises of laughter with a hint of something darker deep inside. While his handsome face promised light, his attire was various shades of black, from his Metallica T-shirt to his faded, ripped black jeans. “Do I have something funky between my teeth?”
Julie flushed. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. Your voice… well, your eyes…shit. I’m sorry, I must sound like a freak.”
“No, you’re not the first person to react that way.” The man seemed almost embarrassed by the attention he received. “I’m Alex Lawson, the lead singer for Lawson Road. My band and I are just here for some quiet drinks on the down low. Think we can do that?”
Lawson Road. Holy shit. She loved them. No wonder his voice sounded so familiar. They were just starting out, not quite huge but no longer small, and she was serving them drinks at Chester’s. Then his words settled in, and she understood that he was asking her not to blow their cover.
“Alex, your secret is safe with me. But here’s a bit of advice.”
The attractive man leaned across the bar, nearly within touching distance. His scent infiltrated her nose, his turquoise eyes penetrating…
“Your advice?” he prompted.
“Right, my advice—you may want to keep yourself, your band mates, and your girlfriend away from the older redhead over there. She’s like a shark, that one. If she smells blood in the water, she’ll attack, and you all are like the damn Red Cross blood bank. She’ll alert the media, try to seduce you, and cry when you run screaming, all within ten minutes.”
“We’ll keep a tab open and only order from you tonight.” Alex chuckled, grabbing the tray of drinks she’d prepared while they spoke. “Thanks for the heads-up, sweet thing. I speak for all of us when I say we do appreciate it.”
An hour later, Julie had just finished her deck shift and was grateful to be inside Chester’s once again. She hadn’t thought anything could be more revolting than Bunny behind the bar until she’d spent an hour with Bunny on the deck. For Christ’s sake, between the way that woman gyrated on men’s laps and the amount of fingers that traveled up the inner thighs of her Daisy Dukes, if they were better friends, Julie would have gifted her a can of Lysol disinfectant spray and a tube of Vagisil at the end of their shift. STDs were created in the panties of Bertha “Bunny” Tryshon.
The worst part about Bunny’s actions was men assumed Julie had the same loose…morals. That was often when Chester’s presence was appreciated. While Julie wasn’t certain that Chester didn’t partake in Bunny’s well, she could tell that he respected Julie’s desire not to make herself part of the menu. In fact, he almost threw up invisible walls around Julie. As soon as he saw any sort of questionable behavior toward Julie or any of the other bartenders, he “handled” the situation outside of the bar quickly and, most of the time, quietly.
Julie stopped at Alex Lawson’s table on her way inside. “Hey, guys, I’m just about to head back behind the bar, but since the crowd seems to have thinned out a bit, I figured I stop by and ask if you wanted me to get another couple of pitchers and wine coolers ready for you?”
“Perfect timing, sugar.” The provocative tone of Alex’s voice coupled with his flirtatious ocean eyes made it painfully clear how the man was gaining legions of fans all over the country.
While Julie could appreciate his beauty, her gaze darted to the attractive woman sitting to his left. She was the band’s bass guitarist and, rumor had it, Alex’s long-time girlfriend. Julie was not nor would she ever be a man poacher, but it was clear that the bassist didn’t know that. So when her palm not-so-subtly moved up Alex’s thigh and pressed against his groin at the same time she whispered something in his ear, punctuating it with what appeared to be quite a nibble, Julie felt her neck flush crimson.
“Umm, okay, I’ll just go and fill your order.” Unable to rip her eyes from the seduction transpiring at the table, Julie backed away in an attempt to leave before creating an even bigger scene.
Alex snickered, his hand covering his girlfriend’s and moving it in a suggestive motion. “Ethan, you mind following Julie to the bar and grabbing our drinks? Jerry and Vicky are gonna save our seats while I take Tara outside for a couple a minutes.”
Ethan smirked. “Just make sure to wipe the backseat down when you’re finished.” Ethan pressed his hand on the small of Julie’s back. “Come on, let’s go get those drinks. A and T will be thirsty as hell when they come back.”
Julie lifted the hinged wooden arm at the side of the bar and slid behind it, keeping it lifted for the other bartender leaving for the deck. “Same as before, right?” Julie smiled sheepishly, trying to get the beguiling image of Alex and Tara out of her head.
“They’re quite the pair, aren’t they?”
“Oh my God.” Giggles pealed from her throat. “So it wasn’t just me? They were… that was…” Julie fumbled for words as she filled the pitchers. She wasn’t a prude—clearly she had no problems with flirting or, hell, with going home with a random man—but Alex and Tara were so public with their affections, so illicit with their behavior. While Julie felt embarrassed by some of the actions, some of it turned her on.
“Trust me,” Ethan said, leaning over the counter and bringing his body within inches of hers, “it isn’t just you. If you think that’s hot, you should see them argue.” He fanned himself. “It’d singe your eyebrows off.”
The belly laugh that left her lips startled even Julie, but not as much as the voice that came from her right.
“Ahh, now I understand. Looks like I’m not the only jumper between the two of us, huh?” Danny stood at attention, but gone were the uniform and blank stare. In their stead was a spectacularly gorgeous man in a brown T-shirt and jeans, sporting the look of a jilted lover—flared nostrils, pinched brows, a curled upper lip, and all.
“Danny?” Her heart leaped at his presence before her breath hitched at his response. Was he insulting her? The one-night thing worked both ways.
“Clearly you don’t waste any time between beds, now do you?”
Had his words not come from what seemed like a place of hurt and had Julie not been at her place of employment, her response would have been far less quiet and far less civil.
“Here’s your drink order, Ethan.” She knew her forced smile wouldn’t fool a blind man, let alone the nice guy who seemed extremely interested in stepping in to protect her in that moment, but she pasted it on to save them the discomfort and embarrassment. “I’m just going to deal with Sergeant Marcus here.”