Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Logan

“Hey.” Danielle takes her purse off her shoulder as she walks through the back door of the bar. We’re getting ready to open, and she just got here for her shift. The heavy door closes with a whoosh behind her, sending her hair flying around her face. She reaches up to tame it, and the light yellow fabric of her sundress stretches up over her breasts. She’s not wearing a bra, and I can see the faint outline of her nipple through the fabric.

I swallow hard, talk down my dick, and look away.

“Hey,” I say back. “You look nice.”

“Thanks. I’d say the same to you, but I don’t want to lie.” She flashes a grin and walks past me and into the office to put her purse away. I readjust the heavy box of booze I’m carrying, trying—and failing—to keep my thoughts PG.

“You look nice?” Owen stands in the threshold of the kitchen, shaking his head. “At this point, I don’t think you even want out of the friendzone.”

Ignoring him, I breeze right past and set the box down on the counter next to the walk-in refrigerator.

“I’m genuinely concerned for you,” Owen goes on. “When was the last time you got any pussy?”

It was a while ago, and he damn well knows it. The blind hookups were fun in our early twenties, but now it’s lost its appeal. Even before I met Danielle, I started feeling the longing to settle down, to have something serious and think about starting a family. I always knew I’d get married and have kids, but it always seemed so far away and out of reach.

Maybe it just took the right girl to give me that final shove out of the bachelor lifestyle.

“You do still like pussy right?” Owen goes on. “Or have you forgotten what it feels like to fuck all together?”

I give him a glare.

“I’ll help you out tonight.” He leans against the wall, watching me open the box and start moving the beer into the fridge. “I’ll do the work, get you a chick who wants to hook up, and then we can pull the old twin-switch.”

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

“What? Afraid they’ll know it’s you the moment you fail to live up to the expectations I set?” He grins, proud of himself and thinking he’s actually being clever.

“I wonder how we’re related some days.”

Owen laughs. “Then why don’t you take Danielle home? Oh wait. You did. And you bored her to death, and she passed out on the couch.”

My jaw tenses when I think about that night. Of the way her soft and supple breasts felt pressed up against my chest. How her hair fell like a curtain over us both. Blood rushes to my cock, and I shift my weight, trying to derail my thoughts.

Because right now, they’re headed to a place of no return.

Just having her against me like that felt so fucking good. Kissing her would be even better. I blink and see her full lips in front of me as her tongue darts out and wets them both. I don’t think she was even aware of what she was doing as she leaned in closer and closer, as neither of us could resist the pull.

I clear my throat. “She’s said multiple times that she doesn’t want to date anyone until she gets her life together.”

Owen raises his eyebrows. “What does that even mean?”

My shoulders rise and fall in a shrug as I grab a few more beers to shelve. “Hell if I know. Maybe go back to grad school and get some fancy job?”

“Even I know that’s bullshit. She hated her life back in Greenwich. And you’re not just anyone. You happen to look just like me, and I’m one handsome fellow.”

I roll my eyes but end up laughing at Owen. “I can’t argue with that, even though we both know I’m the better-looking one. And I’m smarter.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Owen claps me on the back and leaves the kitchen, probably going to the bar to pour himself a drink and not actually do any work. I keep restocking the shelves as the bar opens, and a few of our regulars come in the second that neon open sign is turned on.

Opening for lunch on the weekends is a new thing for us and was Danielle’s idea. When Owen and I bought the place, it was purely a bar. We added the kitchen and slowly expanded the menu over the years. Transitioning from Getaway, just a bar, to Getaway Bar and Grill was something we had in mind from day one, but put off executing it until Danielle laid everything out in a rather impressive presentation. We make a lot of money just from lunch and dinner orders alone, and the food here is pretty fucking good if I do say so myself.

“Got plans for the weekend?” I ask Danielle.

“Oh, of course. I’ve got my calendar completely booked,” she laughs. “Which really means I’ll probably end up watching N*****x while scooping up egg salad from a bowl with cheese Pringles. Which I totally didn’t do last night.”

“That’s an interesting combination.”

“It was surprisingly good. I mean, I assume it would be if it weren’t too disgusting for me to try.” She flashes a pretty smile, and I’m back to needing a cold shower.

“How’s the job search going?”

She’s about to answer when one of our regulars walks up to the bar. “Hey, George.” She reaches under the bar for a glass. “Don’t tell me. Let me try to read your mind.” She sets the glass on the counter and closes her eyes. “An Old Fashioned and a side order of cheese fries.”

George gasps, throwing out his hands in fake shock. He orders the same thing every time he comes in, which is nearly every day. He’s a bit of a local legend around here, but his tale of war hero turned drunk doesn’t have the happy ending we all hoped for. Still, he’s as respected as he can be, and is one of the more polite drunks we have sitting at the bar day in and day out.

“I don’t know how you do it!”

Danielle laughs and starts making his drink. “It’s a gift. You know I almost considered running away and joining the circus as a psychic as a kid.” She finishes his drink and brings it over. “How are the grandkids? Have you been going over to see them like we talked about?”

For someone who doesn’t plan to stay in Eastwood for long, she sure gets along well here. I step away, getting a beer for another regular, and then go to one of the tables to take a food order and bring it to the kitchen. We’re going on two months of opening early, and we’ve been consistently busy. If things keep going the way they are, we plan on hiring another waitress or two as well as more help in the kitchen. Never in a million years did I think we’d make this much more just by opening in the early afternoon.

And it’s all thanks to Danielle.

“Uh-oh.” George slurps his drink. “The Sheriff is here. You up to no good again?” he asks Danielle.

She gives him a wink. “Always.”

Knowing my brother always stops in on Fridays to take food home for lunch, I already put in his order. I go back into the kitchen and grab it.

“Thanks,” he says and looks around. “It’s crowded already.”

“Yeah.” My eyes go to Danielle, watching her smile as she talks to Tommy Oaken. He’s leaning over the bar, eyes flitting away from Danielle’s to stare at her tits. “It was a good idea to open for lunch. We might start opening early on weekdays too.”

She laughs, reaching out to touch his arm. Something tightens in my stomach. I clench my jaw and look away. I’m not jealous. There’s nothing to be jealous of, right?

Dammit.

I’ve never been a good liar.

“Logan?” Wes repeats in a tone that lets me know he’s said my name more than once.

“Yeah?” I turn my attention back to Wes, and a small smile plays on his lips as he follows my gaze. He’s not one to meddle and is my only sibling who hasn’t given me shit over my lack of relationship with Danielle. But that look in his eyes is almost as bad as Quinn and Scarlet forcing us under mistletoe three times last Christmas.

“Never mind.” He takes the bag of takeout and gets up to leave but turns back to face me. “You’re smart. Second smartest in the family after Quinn. So stop being stupid.”