Page 93 of Accidentally in Love

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how my sister puts up with you. So broody!”

“I have a big dick,” I muttered under my breath, hoping she didn’t hear me.

When I looked up, Gemma’s mouth was flopping open like a fish. It took a lot to render Gemma Jensen speechless.

“Holy shit, Nolan!” Gemma exclaimed and cackled. “My sister really made you come out of your shell.”

I glared at her. “Don’t you have drinks to pour?”

She gave me a sarcastic salute. “Aye, boss man!” But we were both smiling when she went back out onto the floor.

It was going to be a long night. I wanted to go home and crawl into bed with my pregnant wife, but I couldn’t leave my guys hanging.

I ate quickly and went out on the floor to help Felix, Asher, and Gemma behind the bar. Since it was a holiday, it was a busy night. Good for business, bad for my marriage.

“Hey, stranger!” a familiar voice greeted me as I set a beer down for another patron.

I looked up and came face-to-face with my ex-wife.

“Hey, Kath. What can I get you?” I asked.

Kath had cut her white-blonde hair to chin-length, and she wore plastic-framed glasses. She frowned. “I want to apologize.”

“For what?”

She eyed my left hand. “I heard you got married.”

I leaned my arms on the bar. “You want to say sorry for that?”

She shook her head and looked back at the dark-haired, lanky guy at the table behind her. Grayson. We all went to high school together, and she had married him a couple of years ago.

“My husband was rude to your wife,” she said.

I frowned.

“Oh, Grayson’s the principal at the school.”

While I knitted my brows at her, her face softened, and her mouth formed a tiny ‘O.’

“She didn’t tell you.”

I shook my head. “Nope. You want a drink or not?”

“Um… do you have a recommendation? I’m not into IPAs.”

“You’d probably like the Drakesville Lager,” I suggested.

“Okay, sure.”

“Hey, what type of beers do you usually go for?”

“Why?”

“Research,” I explained while I pulled a glass out and filled it with a Drakesville Lager from the tap.

I slid the glass over to her, and she handed me her credit card. I rang her card through the machine and returned to the bar with the slip for her to sign.

She gingerly sipped on the beer I gave her. “I like this. I like a wheat or hefeweizen beer.”