Last Call: A Small-Town Romance (Oak Grove series Book 0.5) by Stopper Nancy

Author:Stopper, Nancy [Stopper, Nancy]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Nancy Stopper
Published: 2017-01-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

CARLA FINGERED THE slip of paper in her hand, flipped it over and ran her hand over the numbers. She’d almost worn off the writing in the past twenty-four hours since Joey handed her the slip. After the way Butch left, his call was a big surprise. She’d worked double-shifts for the past three days, partly because the snow kept a couple of waitresses home, and partly to avoid spending any extra time in her apartment. She couldn’t pass the couch without remembering the two of them making love, his hands on her, his eyes closed and his head thrown back when he came, the rough rub of his beard against her…

She shook her head. Maybe if she shook hard enough, the memories of Butch would leave her alone. She’d sworn off bad boys and Butch just proved she was right.

She shoved the piece of paper into her apron pocket and got back to work.

The noise level grew louder as customers filled the restaurant over the next several hours.

“Guess cabin fever drove a bunch of folks out tonight, huh?” Rachel handed over another drink order. She propped her tray on the edge of the bar and rested on her elbow.

“What about you? I haven’t seen you out and about the past couple of days.”

Rachel blushed and she fiddled with her fingers. “I guess I didn’t want to go out in the snow.”

Yeah, there was another story there. Maybe that new boyfriend kept Rachel too busy to worry about work.

Speaking of boyfriends… “Hey, Rachel, got something for you when you get a break.”

Rachel leaned further over the bar. “Oh, yeah. Do tell.”

“Not now. Later.”

“Is this about that sexy man who came into the bar the other night?”

Heat rose on Carla’s cheeks and her heart raced. She may have written Butch off in her mind, but her body hadn’t gotten the message.

“Oh, man. I can’t wait.”

Carla laughed it off. She would never admit he’d left her alone after sleeping with her. Like everyone else in her life. The phone message from him burned a hole in her pocket. At least he’d called. “Here’re the drinks for table seven. Now get out of here so I can get back to work.”

A long lineup of drink orders were tacked on the bar. This might be their busiest night since they opened. She yelled through the window into the back. “Hey, Joey, I’m getting backed up out here. Can you give me a hand?”

“I’ll be out in a few.”

“Thanks.”

Many of her previous bosses took her bartending skills for granted or treated their staff like crap. Not Joey. He appreciated her skills behind the bar but also pitched in wherever he could.

She lined up several lemons, oranges and limes to chop for a sangria. A task she’d performed any number of times, one that didn’t take much concentration. As she chopped, her mind wandered to the slip of paper in her apron and the sexy man who’d called her.

His beard had scratched against her hands when she cupped his cheek, and the prickly hairs had left burn marks on her thighs.

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