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“Draven, that’s too much,” she sputtered. She glanced back down at his receipt, thinking she had given him the wrong one, but it was the correct one. He’d given her an extra two hundred dollars.
“Keep the change.”
“I can’t accept this.” She shook her head and slid the crisp hundred-dollar bills back to him. She didn’t need his pity or him feeling bad for her. She was a big girl and she would take care of herself. She’d been doing it for a long time and she would be all right.
“You can and you will.”
The deep timber of his voice sent chills down her spine. His large callused hand covered hers and pushed the money back to her. She inhaled sharply at the feeling of his skin on hers. She almost whimpered, remembering how it had felt to have his palms running along her naked skin. Their eyes met, and Cashea was thrust back to that night. She bit her lip, trying to shove away all thoughts of himbraced over her. Those eyes had definitely captivated her back then, just as they were today.
“The customer determines the tip. Now take it and keep whatever change there is with it.”
Cashea hesitated one last time. He squeezed her slightly before releasing her. He slid his wallet back into his back jeans pocket. He reached for his hat that had been sitting in the other vacant seat by him. He plopped it on his head and tilted it back slightly. She slowly slid the money across the counter and went over to finish his transaction. She slipped the tip inside her apron with the rest of her money.
“I shouldn’t be long,” she announced, spinning around at the sound of a patron trying to get her attention. The last part of her shift flew by. Before she knew it, it was time for her to go. The bar had died down, and besides Draven, there were only a few customers lingering. She walked over to Danny with a small smile on her lips. “So, how did I do?”
He barked a laugh and slapped his leg. “Girl, it was like you’ve been working here for years. You will blend right on in.”
She beamed at the compliment. The Hen House was a great place to come. That’s why sheloved performing there as well. She glanced around and didn’t even see many people throughout the place. A few of the servers were slowly cleaning off tables and getting the place ready for closing.
“You sure you’ll be okay if I go now?” she asked. She wasn’t sure why, but suddenly she was dragging her feet. Her gaze drifted over to Draven who was still engrossed in the television.
“Of course. How are you getting home? I saw you walked here. It’s too late for a pretty girl like you to be walking out there in those streets.” A worried expression came over his face. Danny always looked out for everyone at the Hen House. It didn’t matter if it was performers who came in to the bar or employees. He always ensured everyone was felt safe.
“Um, Draven is going to take me,” she said.
He peered down at Draven and narrowed his eyes on him. He gave a small shake of his head.
“I’m not sure he should be driving,” he muttered. He pushed off where he was leaning against the counter and strolled over to Draven. He stood in front of him where he blocked the television.
Cashea followed behind him. Had she missed something? He appeared to be all right to her.
“You sure you’re up for getting behind the wheel?” Danny asked him.
“What are you talking about, Danny?” Draven sat back and folded his arms. He pulled down his hat.
“You know I can’t let you onto the road if you are inebriated.” Danny rested his hands on the counter.
“I’m fine. There is nothing to worry about.” Draven eased back from the bar and stood to his full height.
Cashea bit her lip as she watched him sway slightly. Fuck. He couldn’t drive. He sniffed and righted himself. He lifted his hat and ran his fingers through his hair, replacing it back on his head. Danny wasn’t buying his act.
“Nope. Give me your keys. I’ll call Ridge and tell him to?—”
“What if I drive him home?” Cashea blurted out. She blinked, unsure where the idea had come from. She jogged around the counter and came to stand beside Draven. She inhaled sharply at the reminder of how much bigger he was than her. She tilted her head back and met his gaze. “I mean, if you are okay with that. Or do you want him to call Ridge?” She didn’t know who the hellRidge was, but maybe he would prefer him over her driving.
“I’m okay with that as long as he ain’t behind the wheel,” Danny said.
He and Draven fell into a staring contest, but soon it was Draven who broke.
“She can drive,” Draven growled. He reached into his jeans pocket and took out his keys. He passed them to Cashea. She took them from him and held them up so that Danny could see.
“Let me get my bag and clock out.” She spun on her heel and hightailed it to the break room, not wanting Draven to change his mind. She flew into the room and went over to her locker. She opened it and pulled out her bag. It was heavy from her work clothes, shoes, and purse she had stuffed in it. She hefted the strap over her shoulder and slammed the door shut. She paused and blew out a deep breath. This didn’t mean anything. Her driving him home was helping him out. Maybe she could leave his truck there and then find a way home.
Cashea went over to the time clock by the door and punched out. She left the break room and headed back to the bar. Her heart raced as she walked back through the bar. She didn’t see him by the bar any longer. Had he not heeded Danny’swarning and left without her? Then she remembered she had his keys. He was near the front door speaking with Tim.
“I’m ready if you are,” she announced, arriving at his side.
“You got your car back?” Tim asked.
