Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Trip also noticed Cage’s eyes following Stella as she approached him, grabbing the trash and the empty glass. Cleaning up after him.
While that was the bartender’s job, Trip expected Cage, as a BFMC member, to clean the fuck up after himself.
“Legs broken?” Trip asked.
That drew Cage’s attention to him. “What?”
“Pretty sure your legs fuckin’ worked to help yourself to snacks and a fuckin’ shot. Or most likely a few shots. Surprised there ain’t a fuckin’ empty bottle sittin’ next to you.”
Cage shrugged. “Told me not to get drunk.”
Trip shook his head. “Coulda cleaned the fuck up after yourself since you were in charge.”
At least the man wasn’t drunk, and the bar was still standing, even though there wasn’t one fucking customer in the whole place. The man could’ve called a few friends in to help support the bar. Trip would have a talk with all his brothers about making sure to encourage people to drink there.
Even though it wasn’t that late, they were going to close the bar early because he was ready to drop.
With a long day where he almost got shot, and now with food in his belly and his balls drained dry, he was running on fumes. Even one beer might have him falling asleep on his ride home.
And he couldn’t have that since he planned on Stella being on the back of his sled.
“Took you a long time to eat,” Cage said, giving Trip a knowing look.
“Didn’t just eat,” Trip answered. From the corner of his eye, he saw Stella stop dead and turn her head toward him.
“Yeah?” Cage asked, his eyes slicing from Trip to Stella and back.
“Yeah.” Trip leaned in closer. “Remember that.”
Cage’s jaw shifted and he slipped from the stool. “Headin’ home. Dutch will club me with a wrench if I show up at the garage late tomorrow mornin’.”
“Then get home. We got it from here.”
When Cage moved toward the entrance, Trip followed and caught up with him at the door. He pushed his palm against it to keep the man from opening it. Under his breath he asked, “We gonna have a problem?
Cage glanced back to where Stella was watching them closely with a frown etching her face. “You good, babe?”
“Yeah, Cage, I’m good,” she answered with a nod and then went back to cleaning dirty glasses, though still holding onto that frown.
Cage turned back to Trip and nodded. “We’re good, too, Prez.”
They eyeballed each other for a few seconds, then Cage held out his hand. Trip slapped his palm into Cage’s and they bumped shoulders.
“Careful gettin’ home, brother” Trip mumbled. When Cage opened the door, Trip stopped him with a, “Hey.”
Cage hesitated.
“Judge and I are headin’ to County tomorrow to talk to your brother. Offerin’ Rook a place to land at the barn. Like I said, you wanna room, need to grab one soon.”
Cage nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
“Do that.”
He slipped out the door.
Trip took a deep breath, stared at the door for a minute, listening to the rumble of Cage’s sled as he rode away, then pulled his cell phone out to check the time.
Still too early to close up.
Fuck.
He needed to get some guys in here to help with the bar and soon. How she was doing this six days a week on her own...? The thought made him even more exhausted.
But he’d see to it she wouldn’t be working the bar alone anymore. Or working late, either.
He headed back to her, where she was now wiping down the bar top. “Next liquor order buy double. Need to start stockin’ the bar at the barn.”
“We can’t afford it.”
We.
The first part sounded fucking good. The last? Not so much.
“We’ll figure it out. Order double.”
Her hand stilled for a second, then she continued to scrub the scratched bar top in circles with the damp rag. “Okay.”
Trip wasn’t sure whether to smile or frown. “No fight?”
“No fight.”
Thank fuck.
She tossed the rag into a bucket of dirty ones under the bar, then leaned her ass against the back bar counter, crossing her arms. He studied her studying him. He liked that her expression was soft while she did it.
“You look tired,” she said softly.
He wasn’t the only one. She had dark circles under her eyes. Regular sleep and food would remedy that.
“Had a long fuckin’ day,” he finally admitted. But she had no clue just how long it was.
“You can go. I got the bar.”
Maybe it wasn’t concern after all, but a way to get rid of him. “We got the bar.”
“I’ve been doing this on my own for a while now, Trip.”
“Not anymore.”
“Another night isn’t going to kill me.”
“Now you wanna fight,” he muttered.
“No fight,” she said. “Just fact.”
“Here’s a fact. You’re in my bed tonight.”
“All I have to do is climb the stairs to go to bed, not drive across town and out into the country just to sleep.”