Chaser (Dive Bar #3)(7)
Eventually, Andre coughed into his fist.
“I was joking, Eric,” said Nell slowly.
“Oh.” I swallowed. “How was I supposed to know that?”
Ever so slowly, the edges of Jean’s lips crept upward. It was kind of sly, that smile. Secretive. I liked it. Except then she placed her hands on her scarily large belly, rubbing in small circles.
Still pregnant. Right.
What the hell was I doing here? Apart from making an ass of myself. It was all Jean’s fault. Something about her messed with my head. I was all strung out, my throat tight and raw. I needed fresh air, pronto. “Anyway, can’t stand around yapping all day. These boxes okay here?”
“Yes, thank you,” said Jean. “I’ll get everything sorted how I like it later.”
Good enough. I made for the door, Andre close behind me. My feet moved faster and faster, needing to get away from that woman and her whole knocked-up situation. Coeur d’Alene had plenty of female residents. Not all of them could have heard bad stuff about me. If, on the off chance that I couldn’t find a girlfriend in town, well, there was always Spokane.
I quickened my pace, seized by a new sense of direction. I had a plan. One that did not include Jean Antal. In the future, I’d just stay the hell away from the woman. Problem solved.
“Smooth,” said Andre as we were jogging down the stairs.
“What?”
Smirking, he just shook his head.
“Fuck off,” I grumbled.
The idiot roared with laughter.
Nell came charging down the steps, red ponytail swinging and fury burning bright in her eyes. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Helping to move Jean in.”
“I saw the way you were looking at her.” Her finger jabbed me in the chest.
Andre turned and kept walking. Coward.
“What are you talking about?”
Nell put her hands on her hips. “That woman has had enough crap in her life. This is a fresh start for her and you are not going to ruin it.”
I had nothing.
“Only you would hit up a heavily pregnant woman for a fling,” she said, voice heavy with disgust. “Like she doesn’t have enough to deal with already.”
“I’ve got no interest in the woman,” I lied.
“You better not.” Her shoulders lowered a little. “Stay away from her, Eric. Or else.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Why the pout?”
I put down the glass I’d been polishing and not very successfully smothered a yawn because it’d been one hell of a busy night. I was beat. “Huh?”
“You’ve been cleaning that same glass for ten minutes and pouting the entire time,” said Alex, watching me over the top of her laptop. “I want to know why.”
“Men don’t pout.”
She blinked. “Sure they do.”
I frowned, turning to my brother, who’d just finished serving someone at the other end of the bar. We didn’t look much alike, Joe and me. I was more GQ, he was more lumberjack. I might have been lean, but he just looked plain mean with the beard and bulging muscles. Happily, he was more of a teddy bear than an actual grizzly.
“Set your woman straight,” I said. “She just accused me of pouting.”
Joe strolled closer. “Men don’t pout. It just isn’t done.”
“Oh really?” The pretty little brunette narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t my type, but she and my brother were happy together. Despite a rocky start, which I maybe unfortunately had something to do with. Long story, but completely not my fault. Alex cleared her throat, sitting up straight on the stool. “And yet, your brother’s been pouting since I got here an hour ago. Please explain.”
“You’re wrong.” Joe shrugged.
“How so?”
My brother crossed his big arms over his chest and gave a mighty sigh. “It’s like this, Little Miss. Men don’t pout … we brood.”
“That’s right,” I said.
“To even suggest that we would pout is an affront to our masculinity.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “What he said.”
“Everyone knows brooding is very manly. Lots of testosterone involved.”
“Especially when I do it,” I added. “The word you were looking for was probably ‘smoldering.’”
Arcade Fire played over the sound system while Rosie and Taka finished clearing the tables. Lydia was busy at the front desk; Boyd and the kitchen kid tidied up out back. Nell had gone home around nine once things started to slow. A party of eight and some couples were the only customers left this close to midnight.
“You’re both full of shit.” Alex bit back a smile. “You know that, right?”
“Now then, no need to get all cranky just because you were wrong,” I said. “I accept your apology. You obviously didn’t know better.”
“Apology.” She snorted. “Yeah right. So why were you doing this manly brooding—sorry, smoldering, Eric?”
My turn to sigh. “No reason,” I said, and turned the conversation toward Joe. “Hey bro, something I wanted to ask you. That new tenant, Jean, is basically right above us. Now I know you said you soundproofed it all, but the thing is that she’s pregnant, and I was wondering if we should be easing up on the music volume, at least when it gets late on weeknights.”