I pull open the glass door to Jerry’s, stepping to the side so my Aunt Rory can precede me in. She made an impromptu trip today, at my request. I want her to meet Stevie, and it’s as simple as that.
I obviously want my parents to meet Stevie, but their jobs aren’t as flexible as Rory’s. Because she’s self-employed as a writer, she can pretty much pick up and move about whenever she wants. A three-and-a-half-hour drive to Pittsburgh is nothing for her.
Of course, I told her about Stevie the day after our first date—which also included a recap of how I broke up with Tracy. Rory is beyond thrilled. It’s not just because she can tell I really dig Stevie, but she loves the fact she owns a bar and was named after Stevie Nicks. She said it’s “cosmic shit that can’t be ignored,” but I just laughed. Rory is ever the hippie, and I adore her for it.
“This place is fabulous,” she says as she unbuttons her coat, looking around the bar. As usual, it’s mostly bikers, tradesmen, and blue-collar folks. You’re not going to find doctors, lawyers, or accountants in this bar, but tonight, you will find some Titans hockey players.
I help her coat off her shoulders, and she drapes it over her arm. “Come on,” I say. “Stevie is setting up tables for us in the back.”
We wind through the patrons, the crowd fairly light, but it’s still early.
I see her before she sees me, standing with Harlow and Stone. A quick glance around and I notice a handful of my teammates, some with dates, some without.
As I get closer to her, Stevie’s head turns my way. Her eyes light up, and a smile breaks out on her face. I forget all about Rory trailing behind me, and I don’t think twice about Harlow, Stone, or my other buds. I certainly don’t consider that her hulking bear of a father is probably lurking around somewhere.
I stride right up to Stevie and kiss the fuck out of her. One hand to the back of her neck, the other arm around her lower back, and I lean her way back with the force of my mouth on hers.
Vaguely, I hear hooting and some catcalls. Stevie laughs into my mouth, and I let her up, noting that I very much like the sparkle in her eyes and the flush on her cheeks.
“Well, hello to you too,” she murmurs, and to my surprise, her hands curl into my shirt and she jerks me to her for another kiss.
Taking her hands in mine, I press my forehead to hers and whisper, “Any chance we can just leave and go to your place?”
“God, I wish, but it was your idea to have everyone come out tonight.”
I give a faux groan of frustration and brush my lips against hers one more time. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Stevie tilts her head. “Oh yeah?”
Dropping one of her hands, I turn us toward Rory standing there. Stevie recognizes her immediately from the photos in my house. “Oh my God… you’re Aunt Rory.”
So much for my big introduction. Rory and Stevie end up in a tight hug, as if they’ve been friends forever.
“Hendrix has told me so much about you, but I cannot wait to sit down over a beer and learn even more,” Rory says.
“How long are you staying?” Stevie asks. “Maybe we could do breakfast tomorrow before I have to start my shift?”
“I’d love that. What does a woman need to do to get a beer, though?”
Stevie laughs, loops her arm through Rory’s. “Come on. I’ll buy you one and introduce you to my dad.”
I glance over at the bar top to see John leaning against it with one elbow, casually holding a beer.
His eyes pinned… appreciatively… on Rory as Stevie leads her to him for introductions.
Oh, hell no.
I start after them, but a hand comes down on my shoulder. “Hendrix… settle a dispute for us.”
I turn to see Bain and Kirill before me.
“Tell him Die Hard’s a Christmas movie,” Kirill says, pointing to Bain.
Bain shakes his head in amusement. “It’s not.”
I twist my neck and look back to the bar where John shakes Rory’s hand.
“It is,” Kirill insists, garnering my attention again.
“It’s not the type of Christmas movie that’s going to get you laid,” Bain drawls.
And that really gets my attention. “What does Die Hard being a Christmas movie have to do with getting laid?”
“This girl,” Kirill explains with a smirk. “I asked her out. I thought I’d suggest we eat at my place, and she asked if we could maybe watch a Christmas movie. I said sure. So Die Hard is what I’m going to rent.”
“Yeah… I’m with Bain on this one,” I say, throwing a thumb his way. “That is not going to get you laid. Try It’s a Wonderful Life.”
“What’s that?” Kirill asks.
I give him a light punch in his shoulder. “My man… you don’t deserve to get laid at this point.”
Turning away, I make my way to the bar to see that Stevie’s nowhere to be seen, and Rory is laughing at something John just said. And… she’s standing really close to him.
And he’s staring down at her with clear interest.
“Fuck,” I mutter and then plaster a smile on my face as I reach them.
“Oh, Hendrix,” Rory says, putting her hand on my arm. “John was telling me the funniest story about one of his tattoos that didn’t come out quite the way he expected.”
“Sure that’s a story I’ll want to hear at some point, but where’s Stevie?”
John lifts his chin toward the storeroom. “She wants to get more beer in the coolers, so she’s grabbing a few cases.”
I give him a stern look. “Why didn’t she ask me to get them?”
John cocks an eyebrow, his voice hard. “Some reason you think my little girl can’t handle it?”
I roll my eyes. “Your little girl could kick the ass of anyone in this bar. Still doesn’t mean I won’t always want to help her with shit like that.”
I can’t tell for sure because of his moustache and beard, but I think John smiles. “Good answer.”
I’m momentarily unsure whether I should stay here and babysit Rory or go after Stevie and help her.
That lasts all of about half a second before I decide Rory’s more than capable, and even though Stevie is too, I’d rather like a few minutes of alone time with her.
I bolt for the storage room, just in time to see Stevie hefting two cases of Bud Light.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I admonish as I let the door close behind me. “Can’t have you throwing your back out doing that heavy lifting.”
She smirks. “Why’s that?”
I take the cases from her and set them on the ground. I then jerk her into my arms. “Because I’ve got plans that will call for much physical exertion later tonight.”
“Oh yeah?” Her voice is husky and playful. “Tell me your plans.”
“First.” I bend my head, kiss just under her ear. “I’m going to peel you out of your clothes.”
“I like it. What else?”
“Going to lay you on my bed and spread your legs wide for me.”
“Mmm.”
I scrape my teeth against her neck. “Then I’m going to lick you until you’re screaming and begging me to let you come.”
“Jesus, Hendrix,” she mutters, giving me a hard push backward. “Now I won’t be able to concentrate all night.”
I reach down and shift my swelling cock to the left to give it a little more room. Grinning, I pull her back but only to put my hands on her hips. “Why do you need to concentrate?”
“Because… this is another chance for me to get to know your teammates and their wives and girlfriends. I want them to like me.”
“They already love you,” I say, and that’s true. Those who hung out with us at Mario’s last week had a great time getting to know her. I had them all singing her praises at the next day’s practice.
“And I want that to continue. Plus… they’re here in my place of business. I want them to have a good time.”
“They’ll have the best time, I promise.” I bend down, brush my lips against hers. “Now, tell me how much beer you want, and I’ll bring it out. You go be a social butterfly.”
“Two cases of Bud Light, three cases of Bud, and one case of Michelob Ultra.”
“Got it,” I say, stepping away to grab the two cases I took from her previously. But then I turn back to her. “Your dad.”
“What about him?” she asks.
“He, um… well, looks like he’s interested in Rory.”
Stevie crosses her arms over her chest in a clearly defensive posture. “So?”
I can see she’s ready to go full-on protective of her dad as the Best Man Ever, so I immediately pivot.
I’m not stupid.
“You better give him fair warning… she’s a spitfire.”
Stevie laughs and wags her finger at me. She knows my concerns were for Rory and not her dad. “I think they’ll both be fine.”
Maybe.
But I’m keeping an eye on John “Bear” Kisner tonight.
♦
“You’re kidding!” Stevie exclaims, whipping her head from Coen to me for confirmation. Of course, that puts us face to face since she’s sitting on my lap with her arm around my shoulder. “He wrecked your Porsche?”
“Was a big jerk about it too,” I affirm, my eyes cutting over to my teammate sitting adjacent to us. Tillie’s next to him, but in a chair.
Stevie would be in a chair too if when she’d walked over, I’d I let her sit in one, but I pulled her onto my lap and it feels too good to let her go. Lucky me, she’s content to remain in place. Weirdly, the public displays of affection feel right with her. I never did them with Tracy, not because I was afraid of what others thought but because I never felt like spontaneously pulling her onto my lap to have her close.
I’ve never done that with any woman, for that matter.
Harlow cocked an eyebrow at me—she’s wondering, like everyone else, how serious we’ve gotten—but the smile that came along with it told me she’s happy for us. I’m sure she’ll pick at Stevie for the details, if she hasn’t already.
“I thought Hendrix was going to kill me,” Coen says, picking up his beer and taking a drink.
“It wasn’t that you wrecked the car, dude.” I pick up my own beer, point it toward him. “It’s that you didn’t give a shit you wrecked my car.”
“I gave a shit,” he says quietly. “But it was buried down deep.”
Tillie’s hand rests on Coen’s shoulder, and she leans her head against him as if to say, “Everyone knew you had demons, babe. I love you despite it all.”
“I’m glad you don’t have a Porsche,” Stevie says with a laugh, and she’s slightly inebriated. “That’s some small dick energy there.”
“Some small dick what?” I ask, somewhat offended. I loved that car.
Stevie waves her hand. “Oh, it’s just something my dad and some of his biker buddies say about sports cars.” She then parrots her dad by lowering her voice. “If you want to be a real man, put a Harley between your legs.”
I laugh so hard, I choke. “Does he really say that?”
She gives me an impish smile. “Maybe in his younger days, but if you ever want to get his goat a little, tell him you want a Porsche tattoo and see how he reacts.”
Twisting us slightly in the chair, I glance back at the end of the bar where Rory sits on a stool and John stands beside her. They’re locked in deep conversation, and I’ve been watching his hand that sits on her backrest. About an hour ago, he dumped a bunch of money in the jukebox and picked every Stevie Nicks song on there, and I got a sneaking suspicion that might be part of a seduction plan. I’ve considered pulling him aside and telling him to stay away, but what little I’ve come to know about John Kisner, he’d plow straight ahead just to spite me.
Stevie’s hands come to my face, and she turns my attention back to her. Putting her nose almost to mine, she says, “Leave them alone. Rory is fine.”
“I know,” I grumble. “She’s an adult. And your dad’s a decent dude.”
“If you need a distraction, I could kiss you,” she suggests.
My arms tighten around her waist. “I definitely need a distraction.”
Her mouth on mine is divine, and the music from the jukebox fades away, my awareness of my teammates standing all around dim, and I don’t give two fucks if my Aunt Rory and John want to sneak off into the storage room for a quickie.
As Stevie pulls back, I hear laughing, and Bain is standing there. “Sorry to interrupt,” Bain says, leaning on a pool stick and grinning at me. “But can Stevie come play pool with us?”
“I’d love to,” she says, bounding off my lap.
“Me too.”
Bain shakes his head. “Sorry, dude… I need Stevie as my partner. We’re playing Gage and Liam.”
I laugh. Those are two players who haven’t been here and don’t know how good Stevie is. “Fine. I’ll come cheer her on, then.”
The game is eight ball and Gage breaks the rack. He’s actually a good player, and soon the entire team surrounds the table, watching the action.
It’s Stevie, though, who everyone cheers for, because while the other three are good, she’s pulling off trick shots that amaze and wow. It makes me realize I was pretty lucky to have beaten her when we first played.
Or did she lose on purpose because she wanted to give me that ten minutes of her time?
I like that possibility a lot, and I’ll make sure to ask her later tonight. She’ll tell me the truth, but she’ll make me work for it.
A nudge to my shoulder gets my attention, and I turn to see Harlow. “I’m here to act as the concerned friend while Stevie is otherwise occupied.”
“Concerned about what?” I ask, keeping my eye on the game and more importantly, my girl who just jumped the cue ball over another ball to make her shot.
“The usual,” she says with a smirk. “That you’ll be nice to her, that you won’t hurt her, that it won’t be just Bear in line to kick your ass if you do but I’ll be next.”
I cut her a glance. “You know damn well you don’t need those assurances.”
Harlow appraises me. “I totally judge you for the prior woman you were with.”
I laugh and shake my head. “And it’s who I was dating and how hard I tried to make it work that got Stevie to give me a chance. She admired that I didn’t quit when it got hard.”
Harlow’s eyes go round. “Really?”
“Really. But you don’t need me to tell you that. You know I’m a good dude.”
“I don’t, but Stone says you are.”
“Well, there you go.” I fully face her, though so she knows I’m serious. “But truthfully… I really like Stevie. Like, in a way that no other woman has ever made me feel. It’s the real deal.”
Harlow glances around and then leans in to me. “I can attest that you’ve got Stevie quite giddy herself. She really likes you too.”
“And you know this how?” I ask, needing more than just gut instinct.
“Because she told me, and I can see how she acts around you. I’ve seen her with every man she’s ever dated, and you’re different. So you better make it work or—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah… Bear will kick my ass, then you.”
“And I’ll have Stone add on a third ass kicking,” she says fiercely.
I grin at her. “Duly noted.”
Harlow bumps her hip against mine. “But I don’t think I have anything to worry about.”
Eyes pinned on Stevie teasing Gage and Liam about something—seeing how easily she fits in with my people—I assure Harlow, “No, you don’t.”
