Stay with Me (Wait for You, #3)(22)

He fished out a key ring. “Not sure what you’re talking about, hon.”

I frowned as he unlocked the door. “Who’s been running the bar? Keeping track of everything?”

The door swung open. “See this clipboard?” He jerked his chin at where it hung next to the stocked shelves. “Anything that gets taken out of here, gets marked. Anything. This is also the same sheet we do inventory on.”

I quickly glanced over it. Seemed pretty self-explanatory.

“The same with the walk-in. Everything is in good order in here, so it’ll be easy to find.” He turned then, ushering me out of the room, but when he started past me, I got in his way.

“Who is running the bar, Jax?” I asked again, and when his gaze shifted behind me, eyes narrowing slightly, my suspicions were confirmed. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

He didn’t say anything.

“You’ve been running the bar and that’s why it’s not a complete crap hole.”

“Complete?” Brown eyes landed on mine.

I ducked my chin to the left. “It’s nothing like it used to be. Things are organized and clean. Mona’s is making money.”

“Not a lot of money.”

“But it’s doing a hell of a lot better in just a year than it had for years,” I pointed out. “That’s because of—” My words got stuck in my throat as his hands landed on my shoulders. I swallowed.

He dipped his head, his gaze following mine as he spoke quietly. “It’s not just because of me. We have a staff that gives a shit, and Clyde has always given a shit. That’s why we’re doing better. It’s been a group effort. Still is a group effort.”

Our gazes were locked head-on, and like last night in my mother’s kitchen, I was stunned into silence at his proximity. I didn’t like anyone getting this close, enabling them to see beyond the makeup.

“We’ve got better crowds coming in now,” he continued, and his stare alone refused to allow me to look away or hide. And damn, that was majorly uncomfortable considering I was the bomb diggity when it came to hiding. His voice dropped even lower. “Off-duty cops. Some students from the local community college. Even the bikers who do come in don’t cause problems. Without the shitty people Mona had in here, even though the crowd can get a little sketchy at times, it has gotten better.”

“Obviously,” I murmured.

His impossibly thick lashes lowered, and then so did my gaze—lowered right about to his full lips. God, how did he get a mouth like that? That half grin appeared, causing my entire face to warm. “Interesting,” he said.

I blinked. “What’s interesting?”

“You.”

“Me?” I tried to step back, but the hands on my shoulders tightened. “I’m not interesting at all.”

His head tilted to the side. “I know that’s untrue.”

Why did it feel like the weight of his hands on my shoulders was possibly the most pleasant thing I’d ever felt? Although he was only touching me there, I felt the exquisite heaviness all the way through my body.

Oh whoa, this was bad.

“It’s not,” I whispered finally, and then the verbal diarrhea was back like Montezuma’s revenge. “I’m the most boring person to ever live. I haven’t even been to a beach or to New York City. Never taken a plane ride or even been to an amusement park. I don’t do anything when I’m at school and I . . .” I trailed off, blowing out a breath. “Anyway, I’m boring.”

One brow arched up. “Okay.”

God, I needed to find a needle and some thread for my mouth.

“But we’re going to have to agree to disagree on that, too.” Humor shone through his warm eyes, and as close as we were, I noticed the darker flecks of brown near his pupils.

I tried to step away again, but didn’t get anywhere. My chest rose sharply on a deep inhale. “Why do you care so much about this bar?”

It was his turn to blink. “What do you mean?”

“Why have you put so much effort into it? You could be working at a better place, probably dealing with less stress than running a bar you don’t own.”

Jax stared at me a moment, and then his hands slid off my shoulders, down my upper arms, leaving a trail of shivers in their wake before he dropped them completely. “You know, if you knew me better, you wouldn’t have to ask the question.”

“I don’t know you.”

“Exactly.” He stepped around me and headed back out to the bar, leaving me standing in the hall, more than a little confused.

Of course I didn’t know him. I’d just met him yesterday, so what the hell? It was just a question. I turned, flipping my hair back over my left shoulder. I breathed in. Then I breathed out.

I had a problem.

Well, I had lots of problems, but I also had a new one.

I wanted to get to know Jackson—Jax—James better and I shouldn’t. That should be the last thing I wanted, but it wasn’t.

Bartending was hard.

Because of basically growing up in bars, I’d avoided them once I’d left home and it had been years since I’d really been inside one. Back in the day, I knew how to make most mixed drinks just from seeing them done so many times, but now? I officially sucked at it. Like sucked hard-core. On almost every mixed drink, my eyes were glued to the cocktail menu taped near the serving well.