Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“I’ll do it.” I push off the bar. “I’m takin’ her home. Tell Jana to stay on the floor and keep a close eye on things.”
“You got it, boss.”
Halfway there I bump into Vicky, their waitress. “Close out their bill and put it on my tab.”
“You got it, boss.”
“And, Vic, add twenty for yourself.”
She looks over her shoulder. “Thanks, Mr. Callahan.”
Mr. Callahan. Every time one of my employees calls me that it makes me think of my father. They say time cures all. What a crock of horseshit that is. Missing someone you love doesn’t come with an expiration date. Case in point, Maren.
By the time I make my way through the crowd surrounding her table, things have gone from bad to worse.
“Can I get a Haaaallelujaaah, can I get an Amen,” she sings off-key, waving her hands in the air, shaking her ass.
I press a finger to my ear, teeth grinding when she hits a particularly bad note. She always did have a god awful singing voice.
A quick glance around tells me the asshole she’s dating hasn’t shown up. He wasn’t at the house earlier either so I’m guessing he must not have made the trip. I don’t allow the thought to sneak in, that maybe they broke up, that maybe for the first time in a decade I have a chance to repair this tear between us. I can’t afford to get my hopes up again.
More camera flashes go off. There’s gonna be video of this too no doubt. Luckily lights are dim in the bar. Still, I gotta put a stop to it before she winds up on TMZ or worse, the evening news.
“I loooove Maren Morris! Woooohooo! You, over there––” She stops dancing and points to some dude in the crowd who’s watching this spectacle with a hungry grin. Little does he know he’s a heartbeat away from having it knocked off his face. “Come dance wif me, darlin’!!”
Not if I send him to the morgue first.
I catch Annabelle’s eyes. She shakes her head at me, and mouths, “About time.”
“Alright, folks, show’s over.” The people that know me disperse immediately, the ones that don’t I stare into leaving.
At the table, I hold out a hand, motioning her down. She stops dancing, slams her hands on her hips, and glares.
It reminds me of when we were kids, how she used to do that when she was mad, and it pulls a smile out of me I didn’t have to give. Then again, that was always her gift.
“You,” drawls the beautiful, angry woman glaring down at me.
Fuck me, I didn’t think she could get any more gorgeous but I was wrong. She looks like an enraged Nordic goddess. One I’d love to fall to my knees and worship. Even though it looks like she’d love nothing more than to kick my front teeth in.
“Yeah, it’s me. Come on down,” I tell her with my hand hanging in the air. “You’re done.”
“You’re a baaad man,” she pushes out through clenched teeth.
“Are you comin’ down, or am I comin’ to get you?”
“I’d like to see––” She hiccups, makes a face like something’s about to come up a lot faster than it went down. “––see you try.”
My gaze cuts to Annabelle. Drumming her fingers on the tabletop, she looks like she’s had enough of babysitting her older sister.
“You drive here?” I have to ask because the one standing on the table sure isn’t.
“No.”
“Get your stuff. I’m taking you home.”
“What about the bill?”
“Took care of it.”
Grabbing her purse, Annabelle scoots out of the booth. “Thank the Lord,” I’m pretty sure I hear her mumble.
“Maren, I’m only gonna tell you one more time. You’re wearing heels. You already have one broken wrist. You planning on breaking something else tonight?”
“You can’t give me orders! You’re nuffin to me! I mean, nothin’. Whatever, you know what I mean.” She pats her cheeks. “Gosh, I can’t feel my face.”
That one hurt. I’m man enough to admit that it hurt.
“I wanna dance and sing! I can’t feel my face when I’m wif youuu, but I liiike it––” She cocks her head back and almost loses her balance.
“That’s it.”
Moving quickly, I grab her behind the knees and throw her over my shoulder. Shrieking and flailing, she fights me. I may be 6’3” but Maren is not a small woman and packing a lot of muscle. I clamp down harder on her thighs so she can’t kick me in the nuts like she’s trying to do.
“Put me dooowwwn!”
“Quit it, or I’ll drop you on your head.”
The logjam of bodies parts to make room for us as I carry her all the way out the front of the building. The guys working the door get a real show, watching her pound on my ass with her good hand.
“Cocksuuucker! Put me down!”