12. Nash

Chapter 12

Nash

“ T his is my fucking pub,” I grumble in my office as I shred a piece of junk mail into a pile on my desk and glare at the fun happening down below. Why do I have to be banished to my office by my sister when I can see Everly through the one-way window down there having fun in my pub? She looks beautiful and sexy as hell. I watched as she did the ridiculous speed dating while smiling and being nice to all these stupid assholes who were staring at her tits and ass. I hate every fucking minute of this. She’s by far the most beautiful person in the entire bar, and every single one of those assholes knows it. She’s way too good for any of them. I want to toss every one of them out and tell them never to return. I close my eyes and realize this is why Hayley made me stay up here. I watch her flip her curly hair over her shoulder and wonder what it would feel like to wrap my fist around it. I’d pull her against me to kiss those deep red lips and find out what she tastes like. I close my eyes, picturing it and wanting what I can’t have. This is why I’m brooding and nursing a glass of whiskey. I startle when there’s a knock on my office door.

“What?” I clip as I spin in my chair, expecting Hayley or Marcus to come in with a question.

“Hi,” Everly says softly, standing in the doorway in her fuck-me heels that make my cock instantly go hard. She has bright red polish on her toes that peek through. I’m speechless. But besides her looking fucking amazing, she’s Everly. The woman who will always claim my heart regardless of anything she can possibly throw my way. Have a kid with another man? Still mine. Move away and not talk to me anymore? Still would show up at any time and do anything for her. Nothing can change the way I’ll always feel about her. It’s like a prison sentence I can’t escape. I will always want what I can’t have—the person who doesn’t want me back.

But what the hell is she doing up here? She looks scared and nervous, so I lean back and uncross my arms, trying to relax, reminding myself to breathe around her.

She clears her throat like she’s finding courage and makes her way toward me, and I freeze as she gets closer and sets a plate and a beer down on my desk. I try to nonchalantly close my laptop and stand and lean against the desk, folding my arms across my chest, unsure of what to make of her coming up here. “What are you doing, Everly?” I ask her quietly. When she leans down, her hair smells like vanilla and coconut, and I like it. My whole body likes it.

“I was just bringing you the food you ordered from Hayley.” She nods to the desk like it’s obvious. Her eyes land on the junk mail I’ve shredded angrily into a pile.

“What are you doing here ?” I repeat more tersely and abruptly than I mean to be because I’m hanging by a thread with her standing in front of me smelling so good and looking so damn beautiful.

I notice her eyes shutter, losing the warmth they held mere seconds ago, her gaze falling to some spot over my shoulder as she bites her lip, and I notice her lipstick doesn’t budge. The bright red stays in place, and it makes me want to pull her into me and kiss her until she moans against my mouth and messes up that lipstick. Her posture loses some of the confidence she had walking in, and I can’t tell what she’s thinking, but it feels like she questions whether I want her here or not.

“I’ll just be going. Um…enjoy your food,” she murmurs and turns to leave, trying to look anywhere in the room but at me.

Before she can make it to the door in those fuck-me shoes, I’ve moved in front of her. She plows into me, her hands coming up to rest on my chest. Her hands stay square on my chest, my heart beating even faster and her eyes gazing into mine. I wonder if she can feel my heart racing through my rib cage at her tentative touch. If she’s aware of how she affects me. Her wide eyes are focused on me, but not how I thought she’d be looking at me. She’s staring back at me the same way—full of desire, want, and heat .

She’s had two cocktails and three waters. I haven’t missed much down there. Then she came up here to see me. We have servers on the floor who could have brought me food. Food that I didn’t ask for, I should mention. Hayley had a hand in this, but I’m not mad about it.

Her eyes look just as hungry as mine probably look. She swallows and bites her lip nervously, eyes still locked on mine until they unlock and travel down to my mouth and back to my eyes.

“Nash,” she whispers, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed that she still hasn’t taken her hands off my chest. Where she’s touching me, my body burns with heat. Jesus, my body reacts to her so much.

“One more time, beautiful. What are you doing here?” I murmur. Her eyes widen, and her lips slightly part, making me twitch.

“I just came to help Hayley,” she says, eyes finally darting to the sides, showing me that’s not true at all.

“You sure? Who did you wear this outfit for?” I ask softly, my fingers tracing the halter of her top at her neck.

“Me,” she says defiantly, tipping her chin up.

A smile spreads across my face. “There she is.”

“What?” she asks. Her eyes narrow, confirming the sass that’s back in Everly. When she came back to Cozy Creek, it was as if the spark was out of her eyes. Watching her find herself again when she moved back here has been a relief. A lot of us worried about her when she first came back after what that prick put her through. He tore her down and destroyed her. I think about how I wish I could destroy Richie for what he’s done to Everly and Willow.

“I knew you were in there somewhere. Been waiting for your sass to come back.”

Her head tilts, and she says dryly, “Really, Nash?”

Before I can stop myself, my thumb goes to her lip, and I drag the pad of it over her plump bottom lip and watch as her lipstick doesn’t smear. Fascinated, I watch her mouth. She leans closer, eyes closing.

“The real question here, Nash, is what are you doing?” she says quietly, her voice cracking as she continues to lean into me.

“Trying to figure you out,” I murmur as her eyes are back on mine. Her hands remain on me, and I’m pleased she hasn’t let go.

“What’s there to figure out?” she says, her eyes landing on my mouth and then lingering.

I dip my head to hers and whisper in her ear, “I’m going to kiss you, Everly. Say no if you don’t want that to happen.” My eyes scan her face. She blinks, and her chin tips up slightly, giving me all the permission I need. I start at her lips, kiss along her chin, then return to her lips. I give her the kiss I’ve been building up on all fucking night while watching her down there. A kiss almost ten years in the making. Something I’ve wanted since she was twenty years old, and I was just figuring out who I wanted from life, not what.

I murmur against her lips, “So fucking beautiful, Everly. Brave, strong, stubborn woman.” I trail my mouth along the edge of her jaw, punctuating each of my words with a soft kiss, basking in the flutter of Everly’s lashes as she fights to keep her gaze on mine. “But why are you here in my office?” I murmur as my lips kiss her ear and nip at her earlobe. Her breath hitches, and she leans into me, not answering. “Don’t make me ask again.”

“Maybe I was here to see you,” she admits, but she no longer looks at me because her body is so close to mine that I can’t see her eyes.

My mouth crashes into hers again, pulling her to me. Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me in closer, deeper. I kiss her hungrily, slipping my tongue around hers to taste her and feeling like she’s my kryptonite. Always the one I couldn’t have and shouldn’t have, yet all I want at the same time. I’m taking what I want tonight, and she wants it too. Kissing her is a risk. And I might be either fucking everything up between us or fixing something that should have been fixed a long time ago. I’m betting on the latter.

I reach down, shove the beer and plate of fries over, and wrap my hands around her ass. I pull her up to me and set her on the desk. Her legs wrap around my waist, clamping around my hips, those shoes making me desire her so badly. I kiss her neck as she leans back, the dip of her sparkly top offering me the soft swell of her breasts when she arches her back, almost offering me a taste as I grip her bottom.

I claim her mouth, pulling her to me as her arms pull me closer, deeper, wanting me just as hungrily as I want her. God, I’ve missed her for almost a decade now. And she’s been off-limits. Tonight changes everything. I didn’t expect this, but I’m taking it .

“Hey, we got an issue down here and need…Oh shit, sorry, man,” Marcus says from behind us as he steps back out of my office and closes the door quickly.

I glance over at the door, then lean over the window to see what’s going on down in the bar. I scan and find the issue where a small crowd has gathered. Richie motherfucking Sullivan. Fuckin’ great. He ruins everything good for her. I should have known. She can’t even have a night out with her friend without that dickweed popping up.

“What’s wrong?” she asks as she leans over to look. Her body tenses, and she steps back when she sees Richie. “Can they see up here?”

“No. It’s a one-way window, tinted to make it look like part of the wall. So I can keep an eye on things down in the pub when I work up here.” For reasons like Richie Sullivan.

She grimaces as she watches Richie exchanging words with someone I don’t recognize, but I can see the tension building down there. People don’t look happy that he’s here and don’t like whatever he’s saying to the other patron.

“Maybe we can just ignore him,” she murmurs angrily as her hand goes to her mouth where I’ve kissed her, almost like she is trying to figure out if that kiss just happened.

“Any idea why your douchebag ex is in my pub?” I grumble as I watch him.

“I don’t know. I try not to ever talk to him,” she says defiantly, crossing her arms.

Hearing that fills me with relief. I don’t want him anywhere near her.

“Listen, I need you to stay up here. Don’t come down until he’s gone. Let me take care of this for you.”

“Oh, hell no,” she says, climbing off the desk and straightening her shirt and hair.

Her hair is messy like she has sex hair, and we didn’t even make it to second base. Jesus. This isn’t going to go well at all.

I’m just gazing at her, looking like she does, and knowing I’m responsible. The elation and pride that swells in me when I realize it won’t go well if Richie sees her this way. I just want her to be okay, and I don’t give two shits what that dickhead Richie thinks. The last thing I want to do is complicate Everly’s life.

“What?” she asks, her hand coming to her lips.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” I ask. My hand goes to her chin, and I cup it and stroke the sides of her jaw.

She leans into me, her eyes on mine. “The same reason you’ve been avoiding me .”

I just stare at her, trying to figure out what to say, when I hear Marcus call up again, “Bossman!”

“Coming!” I look at her again and warn, “We’re not finished with this conversation.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling this?” she says with a smile that’s cute as hell.

“We can call it whatever you want, but we’ll be continuing this,” I say before I reluctantly head downstairs to take out the trash, a.k.a. Richie Sullivan.

I pass through the kitchen and into the pub and see Richie with a blond woman named Meghan, a regular at the pub. She leaves with a lot of the other regulars. Some married, some not. She takes what she wants and doesn’t care who her actions affect. I can’t put it all on her since the patrons she leaves with go willingly. But I can’t say she is a person I’d hold in high regard. Marcus and I refer to her as the black widow. She’s come on to me for months to hook up, and I’ve always politely declined and redirected her. I’m not a hookup kind of guy anymore, especially with one who does it in my pub regularly with so many others. My town fuck boy reputation isn’t as valid as Everly once thought it was. The truth is, I haven’t dated or been with a woman in months. Since before Everly came back.

I watch quietly from the back to assess what’s going on, and I see Richie has acquired a small audience around him. Mainly because his ego is too big, and he’s just not a good person. His golden boy years are over, and everyone knows it but Richie.

Richie’s in the middle of loudly telling a sexist joke, and I notice a few people around him have the decency to look away awkwardly. He looks around at his audience for approval, and his eyes narrow when they land on me. He doesn’t look surprised, so I’m guessing he’s being obnoxious and disorderly to summon me to start something. We’ve never gotten along, and we never will.

I lean back, cross my arms, and observe him without giving a reaction. I’m glad the people around him refuse to help him feel comfortable with his inappropriate joke. Everyone should react to this dickhead like that.

Taking a swig of his beer, Richie narrows his eyes and says across the bar, “I heard my wife was in here. Where is she?”

His wife. Laughable. She’s not his wife anymore. I knew when their divorce was final because Hayley had a little celebration for her. I stayed away from it, but trust me, I was celebrating too. The whole town was.

I cock my head and stare at him, trying to come across as confused and bored, not saying anything as a few people around him chuckle and murmur and move away.

“She’s probably back washing dishes because she can’t pay her tab.” He laughs, looking around. At least he looks perturbed when no one laughs with him at Everly's insult. What Richie forgets is that we all love Everly around here, and we don’t think his jokes are funny, especially at her expense. Shithead.

Before I can address that shitty comment, he glares at me, but I realize he’s not staring at me. He’s scowling behind me, and I look back as Everly walks up and stands next to me, glowering at him.

I give no reaction and continue to stare at Richie.

We’re side by side touching, and her warmth makes me feel even more protective of her.

“Oh, so it’s like that. I should have known you were fucking by now,” Richie clips bitterly. “Probably for free drinks since she can’t afford them.”

My eyebrows raise, and I look at Everly. I know how this is going to go, but it’s not going to go how Richie thinks it will go. And by that, I mean not well for him.

Richie stalks over to us and angrily hisses at Everly, “Why are you dressed like a fucking slut?”

“Watch it,” I growl the words out as I put my hand square to his chest. He halts and glares over at me.

“Don’t touch me unless you want me to lay your ass out, McCreedy,” he slurs, swaying at the touch of my hand that’s still holding him back.

I say nothing and continue to stare at him. He can’t read my expression, and it’s confusing him. Just as I suspected, I can tell wherever he came from, he’s already been drinking, and he’s already had too many.

“Answer me, bitch,” he grunts as he raises his voice at Everly. She flinches, looking at him like she doesn’t know whether to run or cry. She stands frozen next to me. The fact that he called her that and is humiliating her in front of everyone makes my blood boil, but I remain calm. The old me would have punched him, and that’s what he’s expecting, but I have the upper hand here. This is my pub, and I have Everly on my arm. He’s out of control, and he’s going to lose it. Plus, after whatever happened up in that office, I don’t want to scare her off and for her to think I’m that same reckless bad boy from high school. I’ve changed, and I need her to see that. I’m going to prove it to her.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” I ask in a voice meant to be calm, but it comes out eerily scary, even to me.

“I’m talking to my wife,” Richie sputters.

“I’m pretty sure she’s not your wife. And you need to leave my pub. Now.”

“How long have you been fucking her?” he spits out, reaching out to push off me. “You’ve always wanted my seconds.”

Before he can say another word, I have him spun around, his arm behind his back, and he’s out of the pub and out onto the sidewalk, a maneuver I’ve mastered in the years of owning this pub and long before when I worked here as a bar back. Sometimes people get rowdy, and the trick is to remove people before they get ugly. Everly is still inside, and Richie is confused at this sudden movement landing him outside on the sidewalk.

I’m still somehow maintaining control, but it’s hanging on by a thread. I get my shot in, though, by saying quietly, “Nah, Rich. You can’t claim something you never really had. You know she’s always been mine.”

I’m baiting him, and he’s taking it. He rears back and hits me square on the cheek, and I stand there and let him land that hit. I barely flinch because I knew it was coming and anticipated this before we ever even made it out onto the sidewalk. What Richie didn’t see was the Cozy Creek’s police cruiser parked across the street with an officer sitting in it. He’s watching this whole thing go down and is now quickly heading our way. Perfect timing. I couldn’t have orchestrated this outcome better.

My hands remain at my sides, and I look at him and smile. He tips his head, confused at my response.

Now I can press charges. Tarnish his little reputation and protect Everly and keep him from coming into my pub.

Richie is pulled back and placed in handcuffs, and I realize that our audience has grown considerably, but I remain calm. Everly watches, full of concern, her cheeks still flushed and her eyes shiny with unspilled tears from behind me, and turns to leave with Hayley as Richie is still yelling at her and threatening to take Willow away from her, his words now slurring even more with anger and embarrassment. He looks panicked as he glances at the officer and then back at me, suddenly realizing that no one is taking his side.

“He started it!” he yells to the crowd. “You all saw it.”

People in the crowd cross their arms and shake their heads in dismay, looking at Richie as if he’s crazy, which makes Richie fight this even more.

“No trespassing,” I tell him and the officer. “You are never allowed in Bookers ever again. And I will be pressing charges for assault.”

Richie sputters and then glares at me, his eyes narrowing to slits. “You’ll pay for this.”

“And we can document these threats too,” I say calmly as I nod to the officer and head back inside, tucking my hands in my pockets like this is no big deal. Because it isn’t. Part of owning a pub means sometimes I have to take out the trash, and I was happy to take out this particular trash.

And I want so badly to find Everly, but she’s gone, and we’re closing.

What the hell happened tonight?