Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
"You thought about what my cock tastes like?" It’s not often that people surprise me enough to drop my jaw, but it just happened.
"Well," she says, wriggling her eyebrows. "I do like beer."
Shit. My cock stirs in my jeans, as an image of this girl on her knees, licking the beer off him, floods my mind. Food and drink and sex can be fun, but I’ve never imagined dipping my cock in beer for a blow job.
"Definitely inappropriate," Bradley says again. "Like employment tribunal worthy. Maybe you should get Lachlan."
Maybe he’s right.
"Well, have a seat here." I point to a barstool. "I’ll get the man who makes the decisions."
"Lachlan," she says. "He’s the boss?"
"Self-appointed," I say without malice. Some people like taking charge, and I’m happy to let them if it means I have an easier life.
"Well, send the self-appointed boss my way, and if he doesn’t like me, I guess I’ll go look for something else to do."
Bradley follows me to the office at the back of the bar, sending me an amused look on the way. "You know she’s got a tattoo on her ass that says YOLO."
"The fuck?"
"You guys have matching shit tattoos!"
"If you’re referencing this…" I point at my right bicep, tugging up the soft fabric of my white shirt at the FOMO tattoo I have there, "then you are absolutely right."
"I am," he grins. "And I know."
"Well, matching shit tattoos must mean we should hire her. It feels like fate."
With his hand on the handle to the office, Bradley pauses. "If you want Lachlan to consider employing her, I suggest you don’t mention the cock conversation or the tattoo. Neither makes her a poster-child for being a reliable bar waitress.
"But both say she’s fun, and fun is what we need around here."
He nods, his brows drawing together, and I get a flash of the likeness between him and his twin. "Mention fun. Even Lachlan might see the benefit in that."
Minutes later, we return to the bar, and I half expect the girl to have left.
The girl.
I still don’t know her name.
Lachlan wasn’t impressed by my interview skills.
He approaches her, holding out his hand to shake hers. It’s so formal and I can see her amusement in the sparkle of her moss green eyes and the way she presses her lips together as though she’s stifling a laugh.
Her lips.
They look soft and the fact that they emit so much wit only makes them more appealing.
"Hi boss," she says. "I’m Dawn."
"Nice to meet you. I’m Lachlan, this is Mitchell, and this is Bradley. They tell me you’re looking for employment."
"Sure."
Lachlan’s jaw ticks but he continues. "I can offer you a day's trial. If you like it and we like you, we’ll talk after. Is tonight, okay?"
"Absolutely," she says. "What time?"
"Get back here for five-pm."
"Bossy," she smiles. "It suits you."
I stare, open mouthed, as Lachlan’s cheeks redden. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my serious Scottish friend flush. Dawn really does have a special skill for getting under people's skin with her unbelievably relaxed attitude.
She slides from the bar stool and glances around again. As she strolls past me, I glance at her ass, catching sight of the tattoo Bradley mentioned. It really is bad. "Nice tat," I say, easing my shirt up my arm. "We match."
When she sees what I’m pointing to, she stops immediately and reaches out to run her finger over the words. "You have a fear of missing out?"
"I guess," I say. "I was drunk when I asked for it."
"What are you fearful of missing out on?"
Dropping my shirtsleeve, I push my hand into my pocket and relax my stance, gazing down at the fireball of a woman in front of me. "You."
The word slips out without my conscious brain taking in the gravity of it.
Dawn’s eyes widen, and she folds her bottom lip into her mouth and bites down. I’m not sure whether she’s trying to subdue her amusement or if my admission has surprised her enough to render her temporarily mute.
In the end, her mouth twitches, she releases her lip and sends me a megawatt smile. "Well, lucky for you, Lachlan has given me a reason to come back later."
"Lucky me," I grin. "And don’t forget YOLO."
"How could I?" She twists, lifting the back of her shirt to reveal a narrow waist, curvy hips and the full spread of ink across her skin. "I’ve got a permanent reminder to make the most of absolutely every day."
"Before you go," Lachlan says, temporarily interrupting our connection. "Can you leave your details here?" He hands Dawn a form and a pen and she scribbles down her name, contact details, current address and next of kin.
"Mitchell?" I ask, seeing her surname on the paper.
"Yeah. Not only do we have matching tattoos, we also have matching names."
"It’s fate," Bradley says sarcastically, but maybe he’s right? Maybe it is? Stranger things have happened.