“Darren!” His voice booms through the room. Everything stills. If it weren’t for the music playing through the speakers, you could hear a pin drop. “That’s your one! One more time and you’re gone. Got it?”
Machlan watches something, or someone, intently before hopping back to the ground. Slowly, the noise level picks back up. I might start breathing again too.
Peck and Cross both say something. I’m not sure to whom. I’m too busy melting into a puddle of goo under Machlan’s gaze.
His face is flushed from the situation, but it only makes me want him more. It gives him a little unruliness to his otherwise contained appearance.
“Look, Had. If you’re here, I’m gonna be watching you.” A ghost of a smile flirts with his cheeks. “If I’m watching you, I’m not watching them.”
I bite on my bottom lip to keep from breaking into an ear-to-ear smile.
“I have an idea,” Peck chimes in. “I’ll watch her.”
Machlan rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t trust you to watch my dog.”
He tips his empty bottle Machlan’s way. “You let me help close the bar the other night.”
“So?”
“So that establishes a certain level of trust.”
“He has a point,” Cross says. When Machlan shoots him a look, he points a finger his way. “What are you gonna do, Mach? Tell her she can’t stay? Good luck with that.” He pats me on the shoulder. “I’m going home to my girl. You guys can do whatever you want. Peck, you’ll make sure she gets to the apartment, right?”
“As long as Machlan doesn’t kill me.”
I lay my head on Peck’s shoulder. “You protect me from the boogeymen in here, and I’ll protect you from Machlan.”
“Who’s gonna protect you from me?” Machlan’s eyes twinkle as he says the words.
My jaw hangs open in a very unladylike fashion. I can’t pick it up. I can’t speak, but I am grateful when Cross does.
“Can we not?” my brother asks.
Machlan turns to address someone shouting his name from the other side of the bar. He holds up a finger and turns back to Peck. “Don’t let me down, Peck.”
“Have I ever let you down?”
“Don’t ask that,” Cross and I say in unison, making everyone laugh.
Machlan shakes his head and starts toward the guy yelling for him.
“Can I get another beer?” Peck shouts his way.
“And I need a drink, please,” I say before Machlan is out of earshot. He just shakes his head harder.
Cross leans in and tells me he’ll call me tomorrow. He and Peck have a hushed conversation before Peck turns back to the television and Cross turns toward the door.
My attention naturally turns to Machlan.
He has a bottle of a clear-colored liquid in one hand and a glass with ice in the other. His biceps flex as he moves behind the bar, pouring and mixing and shaking things together. The longer he stands in one place, the more people gather. It appears as though he’s telling a story because the patrons seem to hang on his words. It’s a very different Machlan than I’m used to seeing.
I’ve seen him control a room. He keeps a solid grip on every situation he’s in. It’s no surprise that he’s the go-to guy when someone in his family needs a favor. Those are the situations he’s most comfortable in. That’s the role he likes to play. But seeing him like this—not only in control and comfortable, but relaxed, maybe even enjoying it, on a whole other level, is fascinating.
“Hey, Hadley!” Navie’s voice draws me out of my spy-fest. “Can I get you something?”
“Please, for the love of God, order water,” Peck groans.
“Did I miss something?” Navie laughs. Her giant gold hoop earrings catch the light and twinkle. “Why do you have to order water? Oh, my God! Are you pregnant?”
“No, no, no. Nothing like that.” I let out a single laugh as I look up. My gaze is snatched out of the air by Machlan’s. He lets it settle over me, lets my body temperature spike to the point of explosion, before pulling it away and back to the bottle in his hand. “I …” I stammer, clearing my throat. “Just … can I get a water?”
“Sure.” She digs in the cooler under the bar and pulls out a bottle. “Here you go.”
Forgetting all about the game on the television, Peck leans toward Navie. Her red lips part into a wide smile as Peck slides his beer bottle from hand to hand.
“What can I get you?” she asks in a much softer, sexier tone than she used with me.
“I could really use another beer.”
She leans closer to him. “Is that so?”
He nods, grinning wildly. “Unless you’d like to dazzle me with some drink making skills.”
“Oh, I have lots of dazzling skills. The problem is figuring out which to show you first.”
Whether he folds under the pressure or loses his cool, I don’t know, but he starts chuckling. His cheeks are as pink as Navie’s shirt.
It’s her turn to smile like an idiot, and I can’t help but feel like I’m intruding. Just when I start to get up, I see Molly and sit right back down.
“Hey, Peck,” Molly says, coming up to the other side of Peck. She pointedly ignores Navie as though she’s not even there. “How are you, baby?”
I flinch, pulling away from the two of them and look at Navie. She looks surprised at the intrusion and at the term of endearment. I hold out a hand to motion for her to wait. That there’s more to this story than lets on.
“I’m good.” Peck sits back in his chair and focuses on Molly. “How are you doin’ tonight?”
“Good.” The sweetness drips off her words like poison, like the fake sugar known to cause cancer. You can feel the tumors grow with each breath she takes. “Just saw you up here and thought I’d say hi.”
Rolling my eyes, I look at Navie. Molly glances quickly at Navie, too, and then bends toward Peck. Her boobs nearly drop to Peck’s lap as her buzzed eyes set on me like I’m the enemy. “Well, hello, there, Hadley Jacobs.”
“Well, hello, there, Molly.” There’s no love in my tone.
There’s no love in the look she shoots me either. She turns back to Peck, who is putty in her hands. “I wondered if you’d look at my car. I’m afraid to try to leave here in it without someone taking a look at it.”
“Oh my God …” I groan.
“What’s it doin’?” Peck asks, oblivious to anything but the girl in front of him.
Molly angles her cleavage toward Peck. “It’s moaning and the ground was all wet underneath it when I got here.”
“Sounds like a piece of shit,” Navie mutters.
I can’t help but laugh, but she’s not talking about the car. And she’s not wrong either. Molly glares at the two of us before going back to work. “Think you could take a look, Peck?”
“Yeah, of course.” He stands and takes the last pull of his beer. “Sit right here, okay? Don’t get up.”
“Are you seriously going outside to look at her car now?” I balk. “It’s dark, dude. All you’re gonna see is the game she’s playing.”
“Be nice,” he whispers. “I’ll be right back.” With a pat on my shoulder and a quick glance at Navie, he follows a smug Molly out the door.
Navie’s jaw drops as Peck walks away. “I have a feeling I don’t even want to know who that girl is.”
“Molly McCarter. Resident town slut and I don’t use that term lightly. I actually selected that word from my expansive vocabulary. It was the only one that fit.”
Navie giggles. “Please. Tell me more.”
I take a sip of water, ignoring Machlan’s stare. “A whore just sleeps around. I have no problems with that. But a slut acts inappropriate, unconcerned with little details like marriage or prior commitments. She’s in it for the drama and attention, not the sex.”
“Love the description.” She looks at the door. “Hate that Peck is out there with her. He seems like a good guy.”
“He’s a great guy. And he’s in here flirting with you, and she can’t take it. She usually ignores him, which is sad, but he’s better off for it, actually.”
She grabs two beers from the cooler and hands them to a couple of guys at the end of the bar. “Does he like her?”
The question is poised as if it was an afterthought. Being that I’ve tried to pry information out of people almost my entire life about Machlan and hoped they didn’t catch on, I catch on.
“He has this crush on her. It’s more like a kid with a puppy than an adult relationship. It won’t last.” Shaking my bottle at her, I throw out an idea. “He just needs someone else to rewire his brain. He can do so much better.”
“I’d do him better.”
“You know what? I like you.” I laugh.
“And I like you.” She glances over her shoulder. “And so does my boss.”
Following her line of sight to Machlan, I catch him watching me out of the corner of his eye. He looks away. I don’t.
Despite the handful of people clearly waiting on his attention, he pauses in front of an old man. The man seems to be fumbling over his words. His finger is crooked with age, and he jabs it toward Machlan with a smile on his face.
Machlan keeps his body square to the old man. He nods his head, smiles at various points, and even laughs a couple of times.
My heart warms just watching him. How he gives so much of himself to these various people is beyond me. I’d be pulling my hair out by now.
“He’s a good guy,” Navie offers.
“Yeah. He is.”
“How long have you known him?”
I settle back in my chair. “Since I was fourteen. I moved here with my father and brother, Cross, when my mom died.”