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Meadow and Ivy had suffered huge losses, but they still had each other. What did she have? A sister who was just as flighty as their mom who had run off.
Carver swept his callused hand up and down her spine. The long strokes started to work into her tense muscles. Soon, her eyes grew heavy.
She rested her cheek on his hard pec, soothed even more by the velvet-covered steel.
She was relieved that he didn’t press her more for answers about the rattlesnake or break-in. Time would reveal that it was really all just coincidence, one of those curve balls life liked to throw at some people.
Her long day caught up with her, and soon she was drifting off to sleep with her head pillowed on Carver’s hard chest. When she awoke to the warm glimmer of daylight streaming through her bedroom window, Carver was gone.
She was alone again. But this time she wasn’t as happy about it.
* * * * *
Livia dropped the rag she used to polish the shot glasses and leaned over the bar. “Emory!”
Her waitress looked up from the last group of customers she was saying goodbye to and held up a finger to Livia to indicate she’d be a minute longer.
She resumed polishing glasses while keeping an ear on the conversation between the trio of friends chatting with Emory. In the front of the room, Carver stood in his usual spot, back to the wall, arms folded across his broad chest and his legs locked for battle.
Livia let her lashes lower over her eyes and stole a long peek at the man. When she woke up alone, a strange mix of relief and sadness washed through her. Thank god he hadn’t made any horrid apologies or excuses, and they’d gone about their normal working lives without mention of the mind-spinning sex they shared the night before.
The last stragglers ended their conversation with Emory and moved to the door. As they passed Carver, they avoided looking directly at him, but she saw him give them a nod.
Emory walked up to lean on the bar. “My feet are killing me.”
Livia could guess why. The young woman’s shoes were so old and worn, she’d probably do better waitressing in bare feet.
She nodded. “The place was slammed tonight. I went through about ten bags of chicken wings.”
“And I must have served over a hundred and fifty pitchers of beer.”
“I bet you did. Which is my reason for calling you over here. I’m giving you a raise. Two bucks an hour.”
“Two bucks!” Emory sputtered as if to argue with Livia’s decision, but she cut across her.
“You deserve it, and it’s already a done deal. I entered it into the accounting program this morning. Your next paycheck will reflect the change.”
The young woman’s eyes rounded and then glistened with tears. She circled the bar and threw her arms around Livia, who accepted the embrace like she would from any of her friends.
“You’ve got a safe place to stay?”
She pulled back and nodded, swiping a fingertip under one eye to catch the tear that had escaped. “I’m staying with my aunt now.”
“Oh, what a relief. I’m happy for you. If you need anything, Emory—anything at all—don’t hesitate to talk to me. I may not have a solution, but we’re both smart and together, we can figure it out. Other people care about you too. Carver mentioned he’d like to help.”
“Really? I can’t believe how kind everyone is. You’re the best boss that I could ever ask for!” They hugged again, and then Livia sent her off for the night.
Carver sent Livia a pointed look before walking Emory out to her car.
Feeling lighter than she’d felt in weeks, maybe even months, Livia walked over to the jukebox and plugged in the numbers to a few of her favorite songs. When she bopped back to the bar to polish the rest of the row of glasses she’d just taken from the dishwasher, she began to sing along.
Aware that Carver had returned from the parking lot and locked the door for the night, she looked up to see him slowly crossing the room to her.
God, the way the man walked. His muscles rolled with each step. His thick shoulders shifting with the movement and those powerful thighs with tight denim across them could bring a woman to her knees.
But not her.
He walked right behind the bar and plucked the glass out of her hand. She whirled, and he took the rag from her too.
