Stumptown Spirits by E.J. Russell

Author:E.J. Russell [Russell, E.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Published: 2016-02-14T05:00:00+00:00

Logan finished mopping up the spill from the damned leaky keg and turned off the lights behind the bar when a fusillade of knocking erupted from the back.

“I’ve got it, Bert,” he called. His boss had been barricaded in the office nearly all day, and the only thing that made him grumpier than paperwork was after-hours visitors. Nobody needed that shit—not the clueless time-challenged person and certainly not Logan. He balled the soiled bar towel in his fist and strode down the hallway. When he hit the panic bar, the door flew open.

Riley.

Damn it. He thought he’d soaked that bridge with enough gasoline to burn it to ash. Logan stepped back, bunching his fists against the urge to grab Riley’s arms and kiss the holy fucking shit out of him.

But Riley muscled in, shoving Logan’s shoulder, throwing him off-balance.

“How far, Logan? How far will you go to get your own way?”

Ah. Perfect. His spooky stories must have hit folklore pay dirt. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You want to get me fired, fine. But what about Julie? The rest of the crew? We’ve got obligations. But you wouldn’t know about that, would you? When the stakes get too high, you just leave.”

“Shut up.” Logan glanced over his shoulder at the office door. Although Bert had been holed up in there most of the evening to avoid the toorists, he could emerge anytime. If he’d booted Riley out on his ass once, he probably wouldn’t hesitate to do it again, and Logan wasn’t sure whose side he’d take in that particular altercation. He grabbed Riley by one arm and hustled him toward the door.

Riley wrenched his arm out of Logan’s grasp, yanking his jacket off his shoulder. “Don’t touch me.”

The edge in his voice, the disgust twisting his mouth, caught Logan like a sucker punch to the gut. But this was what he wanted, wasn’t it? Riley so pissed at him that he’d stay safely free of Logan’s personal blast zone. So why did he want to wipe the hatred off Riley’s face, tease a smile from him instead? “You can yell at me all you want, but not here.” Logan pointed at the back door. “Outside.”

Riley shrugged his jacket back on and nodded curtly. Logan followed him into the alley and wedged the door open with the bar towel.

“Right.” Logan leaned on the brick wall next to the door, his arms folded. “What’s the problem?”

“The pwoblem?” Riley pulled a long metal object from under his jacket. “The problem is this.” He slapped the thing—hard—on Logan’s chest.

“Ow. Jesus, Riley. That’s gonna leave a bruise.” Logan looked down at Riley’s hand splayed against his shirt. He’s touching me. Damn it. Focus, Conner. “Hey. How’d you get my wrench?”

Riley’s lips thinned into an unforgiving line. “The scene of the crime.”

“What crime? Substandard equipment? A boss who won’t spring for his own tools? Bert’s skinflintedness is revolting, but not illegal, unfortunately.”

“No. You—”

The door creaked open, and Bert loomed in the shadows of the hallway. “Logan.

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