I don’t know. How can we ever know what we would be like if our past was different? Like a patchwork quilt, you can’t just remove the center square without the whole thing falling apart.
"Hey, can I help you with anything?" A deep baritone voice asks from inside, and I almost jump out of my skin.
"Craig sent me about a job," I say, squinting into the lower light of the bar to take in the gorgeous face that’s staring at me with interest. He’s tall with sun lightened brown hair and warm brown eyes that make my skin feel too hot and too tight. The worn gray shirt that hugs his chest and arms like it’s in love with the feel of his skin doesn’t help reduce his appeal, either.
"A job?" He raises his chin as he sizes me up, too. Does he like what he sees? Who knows? I think I look cute in my outfit, but it’s nothing like I would usually wear for an interview. Then again, this bar isn’t anything like any of the places I’ve worked at before. "You’d better come on in then," he drawls, the Texan twang now out in full force.
So I do, because fate has played her card, and I never refuse a game.
3
MITCHELL
I look up from the box I’m currently unpacking to find Bradley crossing the bar with a girl who looks familiar. I squint as she gets closer, taking in her loose light brown hair, cute white shirt and sexy cut-off denim shorts that leave very little leg to the imagination. Damn, she has nice thighs. The kind of thighs I love wrapped around my hips or my face.
Her green eyes meet mine, and I get a flashback from last night.
That’s who she is! The girl who drenched me with beer and cost me another round. The girl whose sassy mouth and mischievous smile left a lasting impression.
"It’s you," I say, grinning. "The Tasmanian Devil who overturned my tray."
Bradley glances down at her with a surprised expression, raising his thick brows. "You’re the one who wet him down to his underwear?"
The girl has the decency to look guilty but smiles broadly with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "That’s me. Except I’m not a Tasmanian Devil, more an American kind of demon."
"You guys must know each other," I say, and both of them roll their eyes in response.
"What is it that you don’t get, Mitchell? There are over three hundred million people in the US. The chances of me bumping into someone I know from home are so small it’s not even a thing."
"We should have pretended to be cousins," the girl says, grabbing Bradley’s arm. "We could have pranked them."
"That would have been fun." Bradley’s eyes drift to where her hand is currently wrapped around his forearm.
"Do you have a resume? Experience?" I ask as she smiles up at Bradley and draws her hand away.
"I’m on vacation, and I haven’t done any bar work before. The closest experience I have is when I worked retail when I was in college."
"So, you’ve worked in the service industry?"
"Yeah." She shrugs her shoulders and I get the distinct feeling that she doesn’t care if we offer her the job or not. She’s like a butterfly that’s blown in on the breeze.
"And you like the idea of working here?"
She glances around, pivoting on her foot as she takes in the bar. "I think it looks awesome."
"But you’re on vacation," Bradley says. "How long will you be around for?"
Shrugging again, she tucks her hair behind her ear. "I don’t have a return ticket. I’m leaving my plans open."
"So you could work a couple of months, minimum?" I ask.
"Sure. If you’re nice to me!" The grin that splits her face reminds me of last night.
"Nice is a very unsexy word. I could be good to you. Exceptionally good, in fact."
"I’m not sure this conversation is appropriate for an interview," Bradley warns.
"This girl spilled so much beer on me yesterday, my cock had a drink."
She points at me and laughs hard enough that she doubles over. "I knew it. That’s exactly what I thought to myself, that your cock would have tasted like beer."
"You thought about what my cock tastes like?" It’s not often that people surprise me enough to drop my jaw, but it just happened.
"Well," she says, wriggling her eyebrows. "I do like beer."
Shit. My cock stirs in my jeans, as an image of this girl on her knees, licking the beer off him, floods my mind. Food and drink and sex can be fun, but I’ve never imagined dipping my cock in beer for a blow job.
"Definitely inappropriate," Bradley says again. "Like employment tribunal worthy. Maybe you should get Lachlan."
Maybe he’s right.
"Well, have a seat here." I point to a barstool. "I’ll get the man who makes the decisions."
"Lachlan," she says. "He’s the boss?"
"Self-appointed," I say without malice. Some people like taking charge, and I’m happy to let them if it means I have an easier life.
"Well, send the self-appointed boss my way, and if he doesn’t like me, I guess I’ll go look for something else to do."
Bradley follows me to the office at the back of the bar, sending me an amused look on the way. "You know she’s got a tattoo on her ass that says YOLO."
"The fuck?"
"You guys have matching shit tattoos!"
"If you’re referencing this…" I point at my right bicep, tugging up the soft fabric of my white shirt at the FOMO tattoo I have there, "then you are absolutely right."
"I am," he grins. "And I know."
"Well, matching shit tattoos must mean we should hire her. It feels like fate."
With his hand on the handle to the office, Bradley pauses. "If you want Lachlan to consider employing her, I suggest you don’t mention the cock conversation or the tattoo. Neither makes her a poster-child for being a reliable bar waitress.
"But both say she’s fun, and fun is what we need around here."
He nods, his brows drawing together, and I get a flash of the likeness between him and his twin. "Mention fun. Even Lachlan might see the benefit in that."
Minutes later, we return to the bar, and I half expect the girl to have left.
The girl.
I still don’t know her name.
Lachlan wasn’t impressed by my interview skills.
He approaches her, holding out his hand to shake hers. It’s so formal and I can see her amusement in the sparkle of her moss green eyes and the way she presses her lips together as though she’s stifling a laugh.
Her lips.
They look soft and the fact that they emit so much wit only makes them more appealing.
"Hi boss," she says. "I’m Dawn."
"Nice to meet you. I’m Lachlan, this is Mitchell, and this is Bradley. They tell me you’re looking for employment."
"Sure."
Lachlan’s jaw ticks but he continues. "I can offer you a day's trial. If you like it and we like you, we’ll talk after. Is tonight, okay?"
"Absolutely," she says. "What time?"
"Get back here for five-pm."