Sweet Dreams (Colorado Mountain 2)

He was beautiful.

“Hey Tate,” Krystal called and I turned woodenly to her.

Okay, maybe Krystal was right earlier, I hadn’t seen “Tate” yet (though I had, I just didn’t know it and thought his name was Jackson) and if this was Tate then I definitely wanted to get laid by him. Definitely.

Though a man like that who could get a girl like Neeta wouldn’t even look at me and he could, he already had Neeta but hell, he could get anyone.

I turned back to Tate to find I was wrong. He was close, stopped at the side of the bar where there was an opening. I saw his eyes were dark brown and they were on me.

“Who’s this?” he asked, his voice deep and a bit rough. He didn’t take his eyes off me and, like Krystal, he looked like he was in a bad mood.

“This is Lauren, our new girl,” Krystal answered.

I opened my mouth to say hello when he spoke.

“Lauren?” he asked and his tone was scathing. Downright scathing. And his face had gone from making him look like he was in a bad mood to sheer and utter contempt.

I felt my body automatically get tight.

“Yeah, Lauren, she’s –” Krystal started but he interrupted her.

“Talk,” he growled and then turned down the hall.

Krystal looked at me. “Check the fridges.” She pointed to a bunch of glass-fronted, half fridges at the back of the bar. “See what we need to stock up and go to the storeroom. Put the new ones in the back, the old ones in the front.” She handed me her set of keys and followed Tate down the hall.

I waited a second because I was recovering from that strange scene and wondering why all these people took an instant dislike to me. Krystal hired me which was good but she wasn’t exactly welcoming even through training. And Tate, well…

I shook this feeling off as just my inexperience of biker folk. Maybe they were a close knit group and you had to prove yourself. I could do that. I hadn’t waitressed since I was a cocktail waitress at a dinner theater during my summers in college but it couldn’t be difficult to pick it up again. I was a hard worker. As far as I could remember, my entire work life I’d called in sick once when I got the ‘flu. I hated being late and never was. In fact, usually I was early. Once they got to know me, I told myself, they’d like me.

I walked down the hall and the door was closed to the office. I nearly made it to the storeroom when I heard Tate’s raised voice.

“Jesus, Krys, maybe you wanna talk to me before you hire some sorry-ass, old, fat, suburban bitch to drag around our goddamned bar?”

I stopped and had to put a hand to the wall to hold myself up.

Sorry-ass, old, fat, suburban bitch.

That beautiful man’s words ricocheted around my head causing damage that was so excruciating I knew the way it was inflicted it would never, never heal.

Then my body jolted and I rushed to the storeroom, found the key on the fourth try and went in, flipping on the light switch and closing the door behind me.

Then I leaned in and put my forehead to it.

Okay, I was forty-two not exactly a spring chicken. Okay, I wasn’t svelte by a long shot and had a body that just couldn’t be svelte and never would even if I tried (though I could stand to take off a few pounds, or more than a few). But I wasn’t sorry-ass. And I’d lived in suburbia but I’d never liked it, I just told myself for Brad, because I loved him, that I did. But it wasn’t me and the minute I got my chance, I left.

And forty-two wasn’t eighty-five. I was over twenty years away from retirement. That was hardly old.

Not everyone could be gorgeous, like him. Not everyone could have fantastic bone structure, like him. Not everyone could have thick, gorgeous hair, like him. Not everyone could have a beautiful body, like him. Most of that (maybe not the body, because that would take work) he inherited from his parents! He was just lucky! Not everyone was that lucky, especially not me.

What a jerk!

“Fuck him,” I whispered and then pressed my lips together because I didn’t like to swear. Then, out of my control, I whispered, “Fuck Krystal too.”

I turned and stared at the shelves filled with bottles of liquor, crates of beer and wine, kegs lined up the walls, boxes of potato chips and huge plastic wrapped rolls of toilet paper and I realized that I didn’t take stock of what I needed before I went in there.

Whatever.

Whatever!

This was my life as I wanted to lead it. This was the place I wanted to live it. I’d been on the road driving through towns and cities looking for what I needed and after four and a half months, this was the only place that felt right. And Bubba’s felt right too, even though it wasn’t much and the people weren’t nice, it still felt right.

And I didn’t care if they didn’t like me. I didn’t care if they didn’t think I was one of them. I didn’t care that my jeans cost twice as much as theirs and my t-shirt was designer and they saw it, knew it and didn’t like it.

Fuck them. Both of them.

I walked out of the storeroom and back into the bar. I found a sheet of paper, took stock of what was needed and went back to the storeroom to search through the shelves and find it. I was on trip three and squatted down rotating bottles of Bud and Coors Light when I heard them come back.

I sucked in breath and looked up and when I did I looked right at Tate. When my eyes caught his, I watched his face change sharply and it did this with a small head jerk and wince.

He knew I’d heard him and at least that jerk had the good grace to react.

I put in the last bottles, stood, pushed the fridge door to and walked toward them both, saying, “One more trip and re-stock should be done. I made notes of what I took and I’ll mark it on your clipboard. Then I’ll wipe down the tables.”

Then I walked by them, down the hall and into the storeroom.

Fuck them.

Both of them.

I had a job to do.

Chapter Three

Shake It Off

I walked out of my hotel room and the door closed behind me.

“Hey hon,” Betty called. “That’s a pretty top.”

I turned to Betty to see she had a hose and was doing her morning watering of the flowers. She had on a sundress, a light cardigan and hot pink Crocs. Her hair was dyed a very flaming red and was pulled back in a ponytail. Her legs had a hint of tan I guessed because she was often out watering her flowers or cleaning the pool or sweeping the walkways or cleaning the cool deck around the pool with a blast from the hose and I noticed she was always in a sundress.

I was on day four in Carnal just about to start day three of my job at Bubba’s.