Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men 9)

“Okay,” I answered and picked up a rag to wipe away a couple drops of water that had splattered onto the countertop after he’d fished around in the cooler.

From the front of the bar, the head waitress, Mandy, called that she was unlocking the doors and opening us for business.

Since it was a Sunday, I didn’t foresee a rush. So I tugged my cell phone from my pocket and checked the screen for a new message. There weren’t any—I know, sadness—so I opened the old ones and reread the last note Colton had sent me, calling my ass sexy.

I smiled affectionately and ran my thumb over his words, calculating how many hours it was now before I’d get to see him again. Right around twenty-four, I guessed.

Hearing a customer approach, I quickly slipped the phone in my pocket and looked up. “Hey!” I greeted warmly. “Need a drink?”

The guy who’d paused in front of the counter turned, and I blinked when I saw half his face was covered in little spiraling scars, but you had to be standing as close as I was to him to really see them. What was even weirder, something about him looked familiar. I knew I’d seen him somewhere.

He seemed similarly shocked to see me. “Holy fuck!” he gasped. “I’d heard Pick had finally hired the first chick bartender for this place, but no one had ever mentioned you were drop-fucking-dead gorgeous. The man’s a genius. A fucking genius. How long have you worked here?”

“Um…” I blinked over his bluntness but answered anyway. “It’ll be a year in March.”

“Really?” His eyebrows shot up. “Damn, I need to get out more. Has anyone ever told you you look like Rihanna?”

I sucked in a breath, not expecting anyone to say that about me ever again. No one had since the first night I’d met Colton, and no one had before that either.

Behind me, someone groaned. “Oh, Jesus. Not you too. That’s who Colton said she looked like.” I whirled around to find that Brandt had rejoined me behind the bar and was stuffing some bottles into the cooler. But then…realizing this guy must know Colton since Brandt had mentioned him, I turned back to the customer and studied him with a little more interest.

Finally, it struck me where I’d seen him before. At Brandt’s wedding. He’d been one of the groomsmen. One groomsman had been Brandt’s brother while the other had been labeled a brother-in-law.

Holy shit. Scarred face. Brother-in-law. This must be Ten, the one who’d fallen off a cliff embankment to save Colton’s life.

“Did he really?” Ten asked Brandt, grinning and straightening as if proud to hear he and Colton had said the same thing about me. “I knew I raised that kid right.”

I didn’t know him from Adam, but I kind of suddenly wanted to crawl over the counter and just hug this guy. Colton would be dead right now if it weren’t for him.

After digging into his back pocket, Ten pulled out a wallet, thumbed it open and extracted a crisp five-dollar bill. “Here you go, beautiful,” he said, extending it to me.

I took it slowly, confused. “What’s this for?”

Figuring he’d finally give me an order for whatever drink he wanted, he surprised me when he said, “That’s your tip.”

What? I shook my head. “But I haven’t served you anything yet.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” He plopped onto the stool in front of me and pointed toward Brandt. “Butthead there can get me my beer. So…” He clapped his hands. “Fetch, Fido.”

“Wait. You want me to serve you but you’re going to give my tip to Juli?” Brandt demanded.

“Uh…yeah.” Ten made a face as if that should be obvious. “She’s got much more curb appeal than you. Besides, I don’t tip dudes.”

“What the hell kind of brother-in-law are you?” Brandt grumped as he turned away to pull a bottle of Blue Moon from the cooler.

“The best kind. Now earn you pay, princess.” Glancing at me, he winked and quietly said, “Don’t you dare give that tip to him, either, Rihanna. I’ll make sure he gets something by the end of the night.”

I nodded just as Brandt stopped next to me and moodily plopped the bottle in front of his brother-in-law, then jerked the cap off with a bottle opener before turning away to toss the lid.

“Hey, where’s my orange slice?” Ten called.

Brandt glared back at him, muttering, “Really?”

I scooped one up with a toothpick from the condiment tray and held it out. “Here you go.”

“Why, thank you.” A blinding grin swung my way and then another five flashed in front of me. “Another tip for you.”

“You’re such a prick.” Brandt sighed and shook his head. “I assume you want me to start a tab for you?”