Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Brooks

"Can I see your wine list?"

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Who the hell walked into a dockside pub with flipping boat oars on the wall and expected a wine list?

Tourists.

"Our only wine comes out of a box."

The woman, who looked to be in her mid-forties, looked aghast. "Just water for me, then." Under her breath, she added, "I told you we should have gone to The Savory Swallow."

Her husband smiled gamely. "I'll take a beer. An IPA if you've got one?"

"Sure." I rattled off a selection of our best imported beers and he chose one without a fuss.

A group of frat bro types crowded up to the far end of the bar. They were loud, shoving each other and laughing when one of them tripped over a barstool and nearly crashed into a nearby table.

Apparently it was going to be that kind of night.

My hoity-toity tourists exchanged a look that said they'd be skipping dinner and getting the hell out after their one drink.

I was just glad we didn't get drowned in as many tourists as Dirty Dockers and The Drunken Worm. The Rusty Hook was a local favorite, which meant fewer headaches like these asshole bros now banging on the bar and chanting, "Drink! Drink! Drink!"

"All right, dial it down a notch. This isn't Daytona Beach."

The ginger in the group snickered. "You can say that again. Where are all the babes in bikinis?"

"Probably in Shallow Beach."

"Where?"

"Swallow Beach," I clarified, giving the town's official name instead of our local nickname for the party scene. "It's across the lake."

"Dude, thanks!"

"Yeah, let's go," another of the guys said. "This place is a shithole."

You're a shithole. My bar is fucking awesome.

My cousin Fisher came in and joined a group of our friends. In Swallow Cove, there weren't that many young people, so we all kind of glommed together.

When I had a free moment, I pulled an amber we had on tap and set it on the table in front of him.

"There. Don't say I never gave you anything."

I grabbed a free chair and dragged it over to sit next to Sawyer, kicking his ankle in greeting. Poppy smiled at me from across the table, her red curls bouncy as ever, while Cash sprawled in his chair like a goddamn model gifting us with his presence.

"Shouldn't you be tending bar?" Fisher asked. "Looks kind of busy tonight."

"Eh, let 'em wait," I said. "Season's barely starting and I'm already sick of the tourists."

"You barely even get any here," Fisher said. "I'd think you'd need the business."

I shrugged one shoulder. "It's not like I own the place. What do I care? But honestly, beer is always good business. We'd be just fine without the tourists."

"Tourists aren't so bad," Cash said. "I'd never get laid without them."

Yeah, right. The guy got more action than anyone I knew. Pretty sure that wouldn't change.

The group started teasing each other about their dating lives—or lack thereof—but they had nothing on me. I was married to my job.

"Uh, Brooks, the line at the bar is getting restless."

"So impatient to get drunk," I muttered and reluctantly stood to get back to work.

The next couple of hours passed quickly as I danced between making drinks, turning dinner orders in to the kitchen, and watching over our newest server, Darlene. She was still learning the lay of the land, but I'd seen her slice through a guy's come-on with a sharp smile, so I was pretty sure she could handle herself.

"It's ridiculous!"

A couple of locals, Declan Sullivan and Hudson Nash, had just taken seats at the bar.

"What's ridiculous?" I asked.

Hudson wiggled his eyebrows. "Declan and Cash."

I laughed at the idea of the prim-and-proper owner of the B&B hooking up with Cash in his ripped jeans and tight T-shirts.

"That'd be a sight to see, wouldn't it?" I gave Declan a considering look. "Hmm."

"Oh, stop. You're a bartender. Pour me a drink."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, since you asked so nicely…"

They'd both been to the pub enough times that I knew their drinks of choice. I mixed a Jack-and-Coke for Declan and pulled a beer for Hudson while they looked over our menu.

"Brooks, get me an order of the Jamaican jerk wings and a side of those prime rib potato skins, will you?"

"Damn, Hud, is some of that for me?" Declan asked.

"I've barely eaten today. Order your own gut bomb."

He chuckled. "I'll take the skillet trout. I'd rather not die of a heart attack tonight."

I grinned. "Declan has a point, Hudson. You're not getting any younger."

"Thanks," he said dryly.

I turned in their ticket to the kitchen, then froze when I saw Skylar Addison sitting at the far end of the bar. When had he snuck in?

He sat with his head tilted down, hair falling over his eyes, and I got the sense he was trying to hide. Most people who came to my bar wanted my attention, but I suspected Skylar would let me ignore him all night, even if it meant never getting a drink.

I stopped in front of him. "I wasn't sure if you'd be back."

Skylar looked at me with a wary expression. "I won't get in your way."

My gut clenched with guilt over our first interaction. "You're an owner, Sky. You can do what you want."

His lips hitched up at one corner, an almost smile. "Well, I thought I should see how the cash cow operated. Doesn't seem right I should rake in all the cash without understanding the work that goes into it, right?"

I chuckled ruefully as he threw my words from the other day back at me. But it was nice to see he had a bit of fight in him.

"Well, you might as well have a drink on the house while you watch me work. What can I get you?"

I braced myself for another ridiculous request for wine, or maybe some pricey liquor that only snobs drank. Skylar surprised me. "Whiskey sour."

"Nice choice."

I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and lemon juice to mix the drink. Whiskey sour was one of those drinks that was better for its simplicity. Frou-frou drinks with a dozen ingredients were just a pain in the ass. They weren't better, just more convoluted.

Skylar accepted his drink with a quiet thanks. I waited until he sipped it, hummed with approval, then moved on.

Not that I ever forgot he was there. I sensed his gaze on me as I served customers.

Vera placed Hudson and Declan's meals in the serving window. I glanced over my shoulder at Skylar on my way to retrieve them.

"You going to want a refill?"

"Yeah," he said.

"When did you last eat?"

"Um…"

I nodded. That was answer enough. I called through the window, "Vera, fix up another of tonight's special! Make it good. It's for the man who owns us."

Behind me, Skylar spluttered, choking on his drink.

"My food is always good!" Vera said indignantly, giving me a dirty look.

I knew better than to argue the woman who was the best cook the pub had ever had, not to mention my best friend Sawyer's mom.

"My bad!" I picked up Hudson and Declan's plates. "You're a gift to us all."

"Damn right!"

"Don't go to any trouble for me," Skylar said.

"Best not to have too much whiskey on an empty stomach," I said. "Besides, how will you judge your cash cow without eating some steak?"

He wrinkled his nose. "This metaphor is disturbing."

I chuckled. "Fair. Besides, the special is trout. But you get the point."

Skylar eyed the sizzling trout skillet in my hand, the one about to go to Declan. "That looks delicious. I'll happily pay for it."

"Pretty sure as owner you can comp one meal. Just make sure you tip your server," I said with a wink.

Skylar's cheeks went pink. "I always do."

I turned away, but this time, when his gaze followed me, I was pretty sure he was doing more than watching me work. I'd had my share of interest from men and women. Though I'd never taken up any guys on it, I knew attraction when I saw it.

Skylar Addison was into men, and I probably shouldn't have winked at him. I amped up my flirt game for better tips, but the last thing I needed was to draw more attention to myself when I wanted Skylar to move the fuck on before he discovered I was squatting in his family's pub.

"Brooks, you got any interest in participating in a Dock Hop I'm organizing?"

I set Hudson and Declan's dishes in front of them. "What the hell is a Dock Hop?" I asked, distracted as I gazed back toward Skylar. Yep. He was still watching me. I jerked my gaze back to the guys in front of me.

Hudson rambled about an event to bring in more tourism and business.

"Huh. Sounds like a pain in the ass."

"Well, don't get too excited. I thought you might like to make more money." With a huff, he added, "I guess I can ask Dirty Dockers instead."

That was a low blow. I glared at him. "I'll check with the owners."

As luck would have it, I had one seated at the same bar.

And maybe if I got him focused on this event, he'd spend less time wondering about why I'd wanted him to stay out of the stockroom. Or thinking up ways to change this place. The Rusty Hook was perfect just the way it was.

I talked with Hudson and Declan until Vera called out the next food order, then I grabbed Skylar's skillet trout and served him.

"This looks great. Thanks."

I braced my hands on the bar, leaning in a bit. "Since you're here to check out the pub, I want to run something by you."

His gaze slid along my forearms, where my muscle was on display. "What's that?"

Despite his obvious attraction, he still seemed guarded.

Until he took his first bite.

Skylar's eyes slipped closed and an expression of bliss filled his face. He made a small, needy sound as he shoveled up another bite.

Damn . I wasn't into men, but Skylar looked like he was in the throes of passion. With his bone structure and full lips, he was prettier than he was handsome.

I shifted, uneasy with the direction of my thoughts, and cleared my throat. "There's an event being organized for the town, and The Rusty Hook has been invited to participate."

Skylar glanced up, lips glistening. He swept his tongue over his bottom lip to clear it of sauce. "Oh?"

"You're the owner, so it's your call." I tilted my head. "It's probably good for business…"

"But?" he asked.

"I don't have a lot of spare time to deal with extra events."

He nodded. "You work a lot of hours, don't you?"

Surprise flared. "Yeah. I manage the place, so…"

"You could hire more bartenders, though. You work a lot of shifts. I've been reviewing the payroll."

I didn't like the direction this was going. I needed all the hours I worked, and if Skylar starting poking around and demanding I take time off, it'd be even harder to cover the bills for Silver Cove.

"I need the tips," I said shortly. "Is that a crime?"

Skylar's face tightened. "No."

I regretted my tone immediately. "Sorry, I'm just…I should get back to work. Let me know whether you want to do the Dock Hop or not. It's your pub, so it's your call."

He averted his gaze. "Yeah, okay."

Damn . I was always putting my foot in it with this guy. Waves of discomfort came off him. Staying and talking wouldn't put him at ease, so I made him a fresh drink and took myself to the other end of the bar where I wouldn't do any more damage.

This time, Skylar didn't watch me, and strangely, I missed the weight of his gaze.