Mouth to Mouth (Beach Kingdom 1)

The wind blew in off the Atlantic and Olive closed her eyes as it rushed over her bare shoulders and legs, lifting the fall of blonde hair off her neck. A new calm encompassed her in a wave as they waded through a crowd of outdoor smokers into a new bar—and that’s where her calm shattered into a thousand pieces. Because there was Rory behind the bar, pulling a pint of beer from a white-handled tap. Just like earlier when she’d seen him through the coffee shop window, his head turned in her direction like she’d called his name.

They locked eyes and she sucked in a breath, no way to brace for the impact of having the man’s attention on her again. But it didn’t take any time at all for that attention to drift to Zed who’d thrown an arm around her shoulders to guide her through the crowd…

CHAPTER EIGHT

One second he’d been in the zone. The rhythm bartenders fall into on a busy night like tonight. Pour drink, take cash, ring it up, drop off the change, move on to the next customer. All while clearing empty glasses, getting them washed and ready to use again. Fast, fast, fast. No time to notice anything but the immediate mob of thirsty patrons crowding the bar. On top of his usual bartending routine, he noticed new things now.

Over the last couple of weeks, ordering supplies had been on Rory’s shoulders, so he noticed when the foam heads on his Sam Adams pours started to get smaller and made a notation to order another keg tomorrow from the supplier. The ice machine had started to hum louder, so he scheduled the repair man. He sent the staff on their breaks and took phone calls for larger groups that wanted reserved seating. Having more weight on his shoulders was nice. Not only did it seem to motivate him, increase his focus…these new things helped distract him from the utter fucking agony of not being with Olive Cunningham for fourteen days.

Nothing looked the same anymore. The world had changed now that he knew she lived inside of it, the knowledge of her existence carved into every cell of his being.

And so he felt Olive the moment she crossed the threshold of the Castle Gate. Felt a twist in his gut, causing his rhythm to hitch.

Jesus. Christ.

She looked incredible, all drowsy smiles and a silk tank top tucked into her white mini skirt. Her glasses sat perched on her nose, making her adorable on top of sexy. Every man repositioned themselves to watch her enter. As if that didn’t wreak immediate havoc on his sanity, some guy put an arm around her—and Rory saw fucking stars. Bright, blinding, sharp-cornered pings of torture in his direct vision, as if his brain was trying to block out the offensive sight in the name of self-preservation.

Beer coasted down over his knuckles and he dropped the glass onto the copper drain with a loud rattle that was immediately absorbed by the pumping music. People waved money in his face and shouted drink orders, but he couldn’t hear any of it. He could only watch in horror as some sweaty, Ralph Lauren polo shirt-wearing asshole leaned down and said something way too close to Olive’s face.

Rory growled, his right hand gripping the bar so tight, the wood grains made impressions on his palm. Was that her boyfriend? Did she have a boyfriend?

“Hey.” Jamie came up beside Rory and handed him a towel. “You all right?”

Olive’s face came into view again as she passed through the crowd and Rory made a choked sound, barely stopping himself from vaulting over the bar to drag her away from another man. He couldn’t even describe how she was looking at him? Half-indignant, half…apologetic? Rory didn’t like it. Was he just supposed to stand there and watch someone paw her? Jesus, he couldn’t do it. He’d lose his mind.

“That’s Olive, isn’t it?” Jamie muttered. “Fuck, man.”

“I have to go get her…” Rory muttered, lunging for the hatch that would let him out from behind the bar. Jamie blocked him, however, before he could reach it. Anyone else would have regretted that move, but Rory would rather lose his limbs than lay a finger on his middle brother, and Jamie knew it. “Get out of the way. He’s touching her.”

“Listen to me, Rory. She’s not your property.” Jamie laid his hands on Rory’s shoulders. “You’re not even dating her.”

Yet every second that passed was strangling him, making it harder and harder to breathe. “Olive…she’s…I’m not good enough for her,” he managed. “Neither is anyone else. Neither is that guy.”

“Not your call.”

“Move, Jamie.”

“Uh-uh.”

There was a shout from somewhere deep in the crowded bar. And Rory’s world started to move in slow motion. The customers closest to the bar turned to face the commotion and there was a break in the mass of bodies. The guy who’d had his arm around Olive was now facing off with a Castle Gate regular Rory recognized. Polo Shirt shoved the regular and shouted something Rory couldn’t hear over the music, but it made the regular shove him back. And then the fists started flying.