3. Colder

Lonegan's was bumping.Rain wasn't going to keep anyone from coming out on ladies' night.

I swapped out a keg from the nearby Brothers Three Orchard. Their spring cider was our special of the night and I couldn't keep the tap going fast enough.

Impulsively, I flushed out the line from the domestic beer that wasn't getting much play tonight and tapped a second keg.

"Hey, how many Dragonbreath kegs do we have left?" I called to Callahan Brinkley, the owner of Lonegan's.

It was busy enough that even the boss man was behind the bar tonight.

"I have six in the back."

"Sure about that?" I grinned up at him and tucked the second keg in the back.

"Did you put another on?"

"I did."

"All right, that makes five then. I'll talk to Hayes Manning and get some more in for the weekend." Callahan poured some of our mid-shelf tequila into the blender, adding two cups of frozen raspberries and his special margarita blend. "What's going on today that everyone is out in this shit weather?"

"I don't know, man. I thought it would be an easy night." Once the tap was flowing, I did a quick inventory of our ice and glass situation, then I loaded the small dishwasher with the empties I'd collected on the way down.

Lonegan's was a staple at this end of Kensington Boulevard. There were a few other smaller bars in the area, but we catered to the blue and white-collar types with a pub atmosphere bonus.

We served lunch food and pub specials and the occasional brunch, but the evenings were more about mingling and drinking with a few appetizers to prevent over-imbibing. Tonight's menu was lighter fare, since it was all about the women.

Probably why the hard cider was doing so well.

The scent of fries wafted my way as one of our waitresses breezed by, picking up the tray of margaritas Callahan had been making. I leaned back. "Cordelia, those fries smell amazing."

"Keep your paws off them. Though I'm sure you could probably charm one or two out of the table of women I'm delivering to."

I grinned. "And which table would that be?"

"Keep it in your pants," Callahan muttered. "At least until we get past eight, then you can go on your break."

"You're all heart." I dug my phone out of my pocket. "Man, it's seven already? One more hour of the half-priced drinks to go."

"The Loneritas are definitely a hit," Cordelia said. "I swear I'm going to taste like tequila and raspberries when I get home tonight."

"Tommy won't be mad at it," I said and waggled my eyebrows at her. Tommy was Cordelia's new man.

She pinked up. "We'll see if he deserves a taste."

I laughed and pulled down a glass. One of our regulars was coming up to the bar and I knew she'd want a Negroni. She was a stunner and a ballbuster, and one of my favorite people at The Heights. "Hey, Iona. Your usual?"

Iona climbed onto the bar stool and tugged her friend up beside her. "It's crazy in here."

"Not like you to come in late."

"I know. I was too annoyed with the sorority girls in here earlier."

"Ah, yeah. Twenty-first birthday." They'd been very loud and shitty tippers, but overall, they'd been entertaining, even if they had caused a logjam at the bar. They'd pregamed on the half-priced drinks and moved on to the club down the street, thankfully.

Iona rolled her eyes. "We grabbed a bite and came back because we love you."

"Aww. Well, you made it in time for at least one or two drinks before the full price menu starts up again."

"You're worth a full price, darlin'." Iona gave me a wicked smile. "I hear you've already met my college bestie." She had to raise her voice over the chatter around her.

I barely recognized her from the woman in the elevator. Her russet hair curled over her shoulder in heavy waves and her blue eyes were shimmery with something smoky and mysterious. Gone was the fresh-faced girl next door, and in her place, was a glammed-up version. She still had a bit of that sweetness under the finery though.

I wasn't sure why I preferred the girl I'd met earlier. Not generally my speed.

I loved all women, but usually, I preferred the professional types who came into the bar. They knew the score and came in for some fun, not forever.

"Sure, nice to see you again, Naomi." I grinned at her and pulled the fixings for Iona's favorite drink. "What can I get you?"

"Oh, um. What's the special tonight?"

"Lonagarita." I grinned. "Pretty much a raspberry margarita with a bit of a twist. Or we have our spring hard cider. Or you can try one of my favorites."

"What's your favorite?" Her smile was still that same shy one from the elevator.

"Peachy Keen."

"I like the sound of that."

I turned for my favorite bourbon off the shelf. "We get the peach jam from Brothers Three. It's sweet and smoky." I set a heavy bottomed glass in front of Iona, then set a matching one in front of Naomi. Two very different drinks, but perfect for our smoke-colored tumblers. I finished off the Negroni with a fresh orange peel and pushed it toward Iona.

I pulled the jam out from the mini fridge in front of me and set it beside the second glass. "I think you'll like it. It's kinda like you tonight. Springtime fresh with those witchy eyes."

Iona snorted, but she toyed with the orange peel in her drink, smiling behind the rim before she took a sip. She gave a gusty sigh. "I don't know what kind of magic you have, but you always make it just right."

The Negroni was a simple drink, but it was also easy to fuck up if you didn't get the ingredients balanced just right.

Callahan grunted behind me then he dumped a bucket of ice in front of me. He gave me a hard look for offering up the annoyingly complex Peachy Keen to show off for the pretty girl.

Our clientele was surprisingly the same most nights. Ladies' Night was usually the only time we had new people in and out. I was best at making quick drinks and moving people along with a smile. Something about Naomi made me want to take an extra minute.

A pair of guys finally made a space at the bar and Naomi carefully climbed onto the stool. She glanced at Iona, who gave her an encouraging nod. "I'm game for a new drink."

I wasn't sure she was, but I recognized the familiar light of bravery in Naomi's eyes. Iona had that effect on people. She was so self-assured, where the redhead looked like she'd rather be anywhere except in the middle of a busy bar.

"Where are you from, Naomi?"

"Here, actually. Well, Rochester, but I just moved back from Chicago."

"Windy City. Nice."

"Have you been?" She tangled her fingers together on the bar a few inches from the glass. Her big blue eyes studied me as I flipped my tongs around my finger before pulling out one of the oversized ice cubes for the drink. I tucked it into the glass with a twist to make it spin.

She glanced up at me with a wide smile.

My belly gave a startling pull. That smile was killer. Part girl next door, part siren—and all adorably sexy.

I measured out the ingredients into the shaker and gave it a quick rattle of ice and made sure to show off my arms. I wasn't dumb. And I didn't work out for nothing—I liked to look good and to see the light of attraction fill a woman's eyes.

Naomi was a little less obvious about it, but she snuck a look. When I poured the drink into the glass and ducked down in the mini fridge for a slice of peach, I came up with one of the silly swords I rarely used for a drink anymore and pierced the slice of fruit and set it across the top, then pushed it forward. "Enjoy."

"Quit screwing around down there, Romeo!" Callahan called down from the other end of the bar, where a six pack of guys were ordering.

I nodded to my boss, then I glanced back at Naomi. "I gotta know if you like it first."

"Oh, right." She lifted the glass and took a tiny sip. Her big blue eyes widened and she took a longer swallow. "Looks like my favorite is the same as yours."

My throat dried up and my gaze dropped to her mouth for a second. A tiny fleck from the jam stuck to her stained lips. She licked her lower lip, then she graced me with another smile.

I laid my hand over my chest. "Ahh, Naomi. That's what I like to hear. I'll be back to check on you ladies in a few."

I grabbed a few glasses and headed down to Callahan.

"Not like you to get tangled up with a pretty girl that long, dude. Four Stellas and two Buds."

"Sorry." I started pulling the standard drafts on tap.

Callahan drew a Guinness in that slow, methodical way he had. I was good at the pour, but it always annoyed me that I had to be so careful with it or I'd fuck it up.

"New girl?"

"Yeah. Iona's college friend."

"Ah. Iona is a pit bull—sure you want to get tangled with one of hers?"

Callahan often spoke in a different kind of language, one as lyrical as the Irish he came from. Not that he was actually from the country, but it was definitely in his blood. And he swore with the ripeness of an Irishman when he was in a mood.

"Who said I was getting tangled? I was just making her feel welcome."

"Sure, you were." Callahan finished the Guinness and set it front of the customer, then took over pouring one of the Stellas as I switched to the standard Budweiser.

I rolled my eyes. "What? She's a pretty girl. I can't show off?"

"Sure you can." Callahan shrugged a suspended shoulder. He was the only one who didn't wear the Lonegan's black tee. Instead, he wore vintage T-shirts with old sports teams, or something rude across his broad chest. Today's shirt was an obscure rugby team in a faded red with white logo. "Just keep it moving. Until eight." He arched a brow meaningfully and deposited the glasses onto the bar in front of the guys. "That'll be twenty, gentlemen."

"Thanks, man." The guy in front started passing them around. "Can we start a tab?"

"I got it."

Cal nodded and moved off to the next customer.

I smiled and collected the card and name to keep the tab open for the guys before moving onto a giggling group of women who had been clogging up the works most of the night.

They were a few stragglers from the birthday sisters from one of the nearby greek houses. There were only a few more weeks left to the semester, and they must have been bored with the frat parties. I refilled their Lonagaritas, then I moved my way back down the bar toward Naomi and Iona.

Suddenly, a woman shouldered her way to the bar. She was the kind of stunning that made a man either back up and get out of the way or try his hand for a go. The hot, sharp-eyed Black woman was spearing the crowd with an assessing gaze.She turned back to the bar and waved me over.

"Tell me, Thor."

I laughed. Chris Hemsworth, I was not. I didn't even have his height, but I could tell she'd be vying for ballbuster status like Iona.

She held up one finger, her blood red nail sharp as a claw. "Firstly, can you make a decent Martini?"

"He can," Iona answered for me. She gave the woman an arched brow, but she moved over enough to give her room.

The woman didn't bother thanking her, just situated herself closer to the bar. "Good. I'll have one of those—very dry, with three onions." She glanced back at me with a direct look. "Who should I stay away from? I'm looking for a little fun before I have to buckle down with a project."

I glanced at Iona then at Naomi who was twisting her glass slowly, then I cleared my throat. "Most of the men in here are polite."

"Polite is boring," she said with a sigh.

Iona leaned in on her a little. "Are you meaning fun, hot, or a little dangerous but not stalker-esque."

The woman's crimson lips peeled back from a wide white shark-like smile. "The latter." She spared Naomi a glance, but she quickly dismissed her and went back to Iona. "You would know."

Iona's smile was less wide, but more than knowing. "Avoid the back corner. Pretty but he wouldn't know the difference between a clit and an asshole."

Naomi choked on the sip of her drink.

The other woman threw her head back with a bawdy laugh. "Then you definitely know. I just want to get laid without worrying about feelings. Is that so hard?"

My eyebrows shot up as I finished her Martini. There was nothing I could say that wouldn't get me into trouble, but I was interested in Iona's answer.

She was always a little wild and definitely notafraid of her sexuality. We'd danced around one another when I'd first started working here, but she scared me a little. I wasn't entirely sure my balls wouldn't have ended up in a glass on her bedside table when she was done with me.

"Most men are worried about us catching feelings, and then they're the ones getting all hung up."

"You definitely know then." The stranger tapped the bar. "Her next drink is on me."

Iona straightened. "Oh, you don't need to do that."

"I definitely do." She turned on her stool. "I'm Dylan."

"Iona and my friend, Naomi."

Naomi gave a little finger wave.

"Nice to meet you." She slid her card across the bar to me. "Start a tab for me, handsome."

I grinned at her and wiped down the bar in front of her and poured the martini over the toothpick full of her preferred onions. "Can do."

She took a sip and her dark eyes widened. "You do make a very fine martini. I'll remember that." She winked at me then spun on her stool and slid off. "Think I'll try that tall drink of dark in the corner."

My gaze followed hers and my eyebrows shot up. I couldn't remember the last time the owner of my building had been in Lonegan's. Before I could warn her off of that particular customer, Dylan was gliding through the crowd.

Evidently, Royce Warner was going to have to watch himself.