Authors: Emma Hart
And I lie to that little girl. A lot. Because I have to.
“I understand that.” His hands trailed down to rest on my upper arms, his thumbs just stroking over the tops of my shoulders. “So take away your work lie and learn some stuff behind the bar. If you enjoy it, when you’re comfortable, I’ll start moving your shifts over. Trust me—it’s easier to replace you on a stage than it is someone who people actually want to buy drinks from.”
“What about the guys who come in just for me?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “I’ll give them a voucher for beer or something to dampen the pain. Besides, until you move to full time, you’ll be doing both. There’s a big bachelor party in at nine who have requested you for the groom.”
I smiled a little, and he dropped his hands.
“Beck...is it less money?”
He looked me dead in the eye and said, “More.”
“Even after the tips?”
“Even after the tips. Do you think I’d offer you a lower-paying job just to preserve your dignity?”
I didn’t have any left, but whatever. I shook my head.
He stepped back toward me and cupped my chin, lowering his face close to mine. “Then, Cassie, baby, stop asking me stupid questions.” He held my gaze for a moment, and just when I thought he’d drop it, he touched his lips to mine.
Dizzying warmth tingled across my lips.
Then he was gone.
“Slower. Tilt the glass a little more, Blondie,” Beck said. “Here. Like this.”
He stepped up behind me and took the glass as I shut the beer tap off. This shit was harder than I’d thought it would be.
“Let me help you.” He emptied the half pint of beer I’d apparently unsuccessfully poured. “Grab the glass and the tap. I’ll guide you.”
I nodded and did my best to avoid the fact that his rock hard body was against my back.
“Tilt it like this, and slowly pull the tap down. Spin the glass a little if you need to.”
It would be so much easier if I could just pour pints like a water dispenser. Little splash back, who cares?
“Okay, now, slowly bring the glass back up straight.” He guided me through every last move until the pint was sitting perfectly on the drainer. “See? As long as you get the angles right, it’s easy.”
“‘As long as you get the angles right,’ he says,” I muttered.
Beck laughed as he stepped to my side. “Blondie, I’ve seen you perform gravity-defying shit on a pole. Don’t tell me you’re bad with angles.”
“Yeah, but I’ve been doing that”—I pointed to the stage—“for a long time. I’ve been doing this for, like, twenty minutes.”
“Only because we taught you the easy stuff first.” Vicky grinned. “At least you can do basic shifts in Rock Solid if you need to. I don’t even know why we have beer in that place since Mia overhauled the marketing. Nobody really buys it.”
I glanced from her to Beck. “I’m going there instead. It sounds way easier.”
He rolled his eyes. “Come on. Try it one more time, and if you can’t get it, take a break for dinner before you have to work tonight.”
“Really? I’ve tried so many and gotten them all wrong.”
“Stop whining, woman.” He stepped behind me again and reached under for a glass. “Here.” He put it down and helped me angle it. “That’s half the battle fought.”
“I swear I’m going to pour this just to throw it over your freakin’ head.”
Vicky snorted, which she quickly disguised with a cough.
“Something funny, Vick?” Beck asked, looking at her.
I peered at her in just enough time to see her lean against the side of the bar and purse her lips in amusement.
“What she said, or the fact that you’re trying to hide your erection right now?”
My jaw dropped.
She wasn’t lying. There was definitely something poking into my back, and it sure as hell wasn’t a phone. I skirted away an inch or two.
“If you weren’t so damn good, I’d fire your ass,” he threatened, but there was no heat to it. “Get out of here and take a break before it gets crazy.”
“Yes, boss.” She saluted him with two fingers then darted past us with a wink to me.
She was something else. What it was, I wasn’t sure, but it was something awesome.
“You should probably put that thing away,” I said, leaning back against him as a guy approached the bar. “You might take someone’s eye out.”
Beck coughed through his own laughter as I shot the guy in front of me a dazzling smile.
“Hi! Can I help you?”
“You’re not dancing?” the guys asked me, visibly put out. “We were hoping to see you.”
“Not until later. Sorry.” I added a hint of apology to my smile and leaned forward on the bar. God bless low-cut tops.
He brightened almost instantly. “Three bottles of Corona, please,” he asked my boobs.
“Sure.” I turned and scanned the fridges.
Beck pointed to the third one with a wink.
“Thank you,” I mouthed to him right before I bent down and grabbed them. I kicked the door shut and popped the caps off one by one, using the opener beneath the bar. Remembering Beck’s pricing rundown from earlier, I said, “Eighteen dollars, please,” and made sure to add another dazzling smile his way.
Hey. I was no fool. If this guy wanted to see me later, I was gonna schmooze his ass until an ovary burst from the effort. The drunker they were, the looser their wallets were.
“Here ya go, darlin’.” His smile came out leerier than anything, but I took the proffered twenty bucks, rung it up on the register with only a little help from Beck, and handed him back two one-dollar bills .
“Cheap fool,” Beck muttered when he was out of earshot.
I whipped him with a towel. “You can’t say that about him. Or anyone who buys your beer. It’s rude.”
He raised his eyebrows but nodded in the barest agreement. “I know, but fool was being nice. Plus he didn’t tip you and I know he got a full eyeshot of your ass. Also...” He paused, putting a hand flat on the bar and looking at me. “If I ever look at you the way he just did, you have my full permission to grind my balls through a garlic crusher.”
I blinked several times. “That seems drastic for a filthy leer.”
“Yeah, well.” He adjusted the collar of his shirt slightly uncomfortably. “He’s the kind of guy who comes in here and jacks off in the damn bathroom because you’re nothing more than tits, ass, and pussy to him. One look at you said it all. If I ever look at you that way, I deserve my balls to be garlic-crushed.”
“Because I’m sure you feel the same way about the other girls here, right?”
“No. Not for a second.”
“Then I refer you to my previous comment about me being a good fuck,” I ground out between clamped teeth right before I turned to another guy who wanted drinks.
We repeated the conversation I’d had with the previous guy. Then I handed him his beers, took his money, gave him his change, and sent him off with his drinks.
Right as Vicky reappeared.
“Oh, Lord. I could cut this tension with a knife,” she said, getting straight to the point.
Usually, I admired that in a person, but not today. Not right now.
“You’re on your own for a minute, Vick. We’re going to chat about her attitude,” Beck said, stalking toward me, his eyes on me.
I glared him down. “My attitude? You think that was attitude? Got a fucking garlic crusher anywhere,
boss
?”
“Oohoo!” Vicky laughed. “Got it! You go work out your...tension.” She waggled her eyes at me behind Beck’s back as he dragged me through the bar and out the back to the hall where his office was.
“You can let me go, Fred Flintstone. I know where your office is. I’m just wondering if your pet dinosaur trashed it already.” The words had snapped out of me, and I snatched my arm from his grip. Not because it had hurt or it had bothered me. In fact, it had been surprisingly gentle, but because I’d wanted to make a point.
You didn’t fucking manhandle me. Ever. Even if you were hot as fuck. Alpha male be damned. I was no fucking beta female.
Still, I stalked into his office before he did, mostly because he was holding the door open, and stuck my hands on my hips. I felt like the ultimate sasser when I did it, but fuck it. I didn’t care.
Beck slammed the door with vigor. So much vigor that, in fact, it echoed around the room, reverberating off every surface and every floor until the vibrations silenced and there was nothing but the sound of our mutually harsh breathing cutting through the silence.
“Contrary to what you believe, Cassie, not everything I do for you is because you’re a good fuck.”
My gaze stayed where it was, pinned to the lower corner of the bar at the far end of the room.
“Don’t think I’m telling you I’m that much different than that guy I just called a fool, but there is one difference, and it’s a damn big one. I respect you. Let’s get real here. Do you have great tits? Fuck yeah you do. Great ass? Fuck yeah you do. Are you a great fuck? Jesus, Cassie, you’re better than a great fuck. You’re the best damn fuck I’ve ever had.” He closed the distance between us in a few rapid steps and met my eyes, somehow setting my entire body on fire without even touching me. “But you’ve also got the kindest heart I’ve encountered. The strongest soul. The prettiest laugh. The sweetest smile. And you’ve got the most beautiful damn eyes I’ve ever gotten myself lost in. So yeah, you’re all of those things, but you’re so much more. So, if you’re gonna damn me to Hell for being pissed at some guy for looking at you like you’re worth nothing more than a jack-off in a bathroom, then damn me, baby. I’ll hold my hands up and enjoy the entire fucking ride.”
I’d never been so crudely referred to before being so sweetly complimented so quickly in my entire life.
I was damned if I knew how to respond to it.
That’s probably why I kissed him.
It’s probably why I threw all caution to the wind, grabbed his shirt toward me, and got up on my tiptoes to touch my mouth against his.
Probably why I didn’t give two single shits as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him until I couldn’t breathe.
I didn’t understand him. I didn’t understand me. I didn’t understand anything about this fucked-up situation, but I understood that I wanted him, and that his words made me want him a little more.
I took two steps back from him and touched my fingers to my lips. He moved a step toward me, but I held a hand up toward me.
“It doesn’t bother me,” I said in a quiet voice, dropping my eyes. “When they look at me like I’m nothing.”
He didn’t say anything. He stayed where he was standing, one foot in front of the other, one hand’s fingers hooked through the belt loops of his pants, his eyes burning into mine.
“It’s how CiCi’s dad looked at me when I told him I was pregnant.”
The admission still made my stomach clench. I wasn’t ashamed of it or her anymore, but it still hurt. Plus, I had no idea how to describe her. I hadn’t wanted her then—but she hadn’t been a mistake. An accident?
“She was unplanned,” I finally settled on. “We were fooling around. It was just...one of those things that happened. I hoped he’d stand by me, but he didn’t. He laughed, told me to get rid of her, and moved on. By the time she was born, he’d left town.”
“Cassie,” Beck whispered, something akin to sympathy flashing in his eyes.
I gritted my teeth and met his eyes. “You’ve never been sixteen, single, and pregnant. You’ve never known how people look at you—like you’re a slut, a whore. Like you’re easy. People pretend they’re okay with it, but they’re not. The looks you have to deal with and the whispers are so hurtful. Even now when I say I have a daughter, people expect her to be one or two at most. Not six.” The lump in my throat was painful as I swallowed it down. “I learned quickly that the only way I could support her was by giving in to the stereotype of being a slut. I had nothing but my body, and I was lucky to even have that. So I get it. I’m not mad when people look at me like I’m worth nothing. I’m used to it. I hate it, but I’m used to it. That’s all there is to it. I don’t need you to feel like you need to defend me or criticize those guys, because I make it that way. I let them think that way, because if they don’t, I can’t support my baby.”
Beck rubbed his hand across his chin, his eyes totally focused on me. I had no idea what he was thinking. He had the best damn poker face I’d ever encountered. He could even keep his emotion from his eyes sometimes, and that’s what he was doing right now.
As he processed the truth. Because it was. Unless you’d ever been looked at the way I had been for years, it was hard to understand.
Beck leaned against the edge of his desk, just perching on it. “He really wanted you to have an abortion?”
I sighed and perched next to him, looking down at my feet with a nod. “He was a lot harsher than ‘abortion.’ He worded closer to ‘get rid’ or ‘kill it.’”
“Do you ever regret your choice?”
Wow. That was a question and a half.
“I sometimes wish I’d put her up for adoption,” I admitted quietly. “Sometimes, when it’s hard, I think about how she deserves more than I can give her. How she deserves more than me. Other times...Most times...I can’t imagine ever giving her up.”
Beck reached between us and lightly hooked his fingers through mine. “I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”