“So you’ll be sticking around,” he says.
I shrug. “I’m either here until the parts come in or here until I can get a way to leave. I don’t have much choice.” Just saying it out loud makes the pit in my stomach get even more intense. I hate feeling trapped. I hate having no options.
“How do you feel about bartending?”
“What?” I stare at him, confused.
“I co-own a bar,” he explains. “And we’ve been looking for another bartender for a couple weeks now. The job’s yours if you want it.”
I keep staring at him, turning his words over and over in my head. “Just like that?” I finally ask.
He shrugs a shoulder. “It’ll help if you have experience with bartending or food service or something like that.”
“I do,” I say before I can think better of it. “I’ve done both before.” My brain finally catches up with my mouth, and I shut it before I can give too much else away about my past. It’s bad enough I’ve already said so much, and worse that Cash has seen me like this. That he knows how desperate I am.
Cash gives me a little smile, just the corner of his mouth tipped up crookedly. It makes his already handsome face even more appealing, and I didn’t think that was possible. “Just come and see the place,” he says. “Check it out, decide what you think from there. No pressure.”
Of course he can be casual about this. It’s not his life on the line if things don’t work out. But at the same time, I appreciate that he’s leaving this up to me. He’s not pushing, not telling me I’d be stupid to turn down the offer of a job when I’m already at the end of my rope.
Cora squeezes my hand, and I glance down at her. She’s my biggest concern right now. I haven’t been separated from my niece for long since I picked her up from the hospital and fled. The thought of leaving her with strangers so I can work makes my stomach clench with dread.
But if I don’t have money or a car, there’s not much I can do for her either way. She has to eat. She has to have a place to sleep at night that’s warm and safe. Whatever shit I could handle until I get back on my feet, I can’t put Cora through hardship like that. It wouldn’t be fair.
I need options, and Cash is giving me one. I have to at least see if it could pan out.
So I take a deep breath and nod. “Okay. I’ll check it out.”
He grins at me, lopsided and bright. “Beautiful. We can go now, if you want.”
“Can I bring Cora?”
“Of course. Wouldn’t dream of leaving the little miss behind.” He shoots her a little wink and doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest when she doesn’t respond.
For the second time in as many days, we pile into Cash’s truck. I wish I could have driven us, just to keep some distance, but if I could do that, then I wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.
It’s not a long drive, but then, it doesn’t seem like a long drive to anywhere in this town. Cash pulls up in front of the bar, which isn’t open for the day yet, and I step out into the dusty parking lot before helping Cora down from the truck.
Cash unlocks the door and lets us in.
It’s pretty much what I would have expected from a small town bar. Not big or lavish, everything in polished dark wood and glass. The bar itself stretches from one side of the room, halfway down to the other, and there’s one large TV on the wall behind it, angled to face the majority of the seating area.
Bottles line the shelves, and there are the usual taps for beer and soda water off to one side. It all smells like wood polish and lemon cleaner, and I take it in, trying to imagine myself here every night.
Then I hear voices, coming from a room off to one side. I turn my head just in time to see a door open, and then the last two people I wanted to see come stepping out and into the main area of the bar.
Okay, that’s an exaggeration because there are definitely people I want to see less than the two Alphas from the diner, but my stomach still sinks at the sight of them.
Cash smiles when he sees them. “Didn’t know you two would be in this morning,” he says.
“Inventory,” Everett replies, glancing at me and Cora. It’s a struggle not to shy away from the intensity of his gaze, but I manage it.
“And accounting,” Lincoln adds. He didn’t talk much at the diner, and his voice isn’t as deep and gruff as Everett’s. But it still sends a shiver down my spine. This close, I can see how devastatingly handsome he is, even though he seems like he shies away from the spotlight, not playing any of it up.
Also this close, I’m hit in the face with the intensity of their scents. At the diner, there were other smells to drown it all out, and they kept their distance, but here, with the three of them within arm’s reach practically, I’m nearly drowning in it.
Cash’s scent is becoming familiar, which is a problem. But in addition to his brandy and apple smell, there’s the scents of coffee and cedar, whiskey and woodsmoke. It’s all a heady mix, and I have to swallow hard, trying to steady myself against the torrent of feelings.
“Harper,” Cash says, getting my attention. “This is Everett Kane and Lincoln Daniels. They’re the other owners of the bar.”