Take It On The Run

Chapter 12

POV: Deacon

I wasn't sure why I'd been nervous about Sloan's abilities behind the bar. She was currently running circles around my most experienced people. In fact, I could probably send one of the other bartenders home for the evening.

Like a ton of bricks, it hit me then just how much of her life I'd missed out on. Alone, she'd been forced to adapt, evolving into this smart, stunning creature I hardly recognized.

When we were younger, it had taken Sloan ages to get ready before school or to go anywhere really. She was always fashionably late, even though she wasn't into doing her hair or makeup back then.

Today though, she'd somehow managed to make her hair look tousled, like she'd just come from the beach, and created a bold lip and eye in fifteen minutes flat. I think that look was called a smokey eye or cat eye or something; I didn't know exactly, but she looked fucking hot—hotter than usual if that was even possible.

I'd actually been disappointed when she wasn't late meeting me downstairs because it meant I didn't get to put my hands all over that perfect body of hers.

The disappointment hadn't lasted long, though. I'd been too busy picking my jaw up off the goddamn floor when I noticed the tight carmine dress and black thigh-high boots she'd donned.

I'd been tempted to make her change out of the skimpy outfit, which revealed way too much of her thighs and cleavage. But I knew I'd be overstepping, not to mention limiting her tips. After all, being eye candy was part of the job, even for me.

Sloan was beautiful without a stitch of makeup, especially after a night of pleasure. I was happy for her and Avery, but I still wanted to be the one who put that look on her face. I knew I'd get my shot at some point, so for now, I decided to simply bide my time and let her get comfortable with us and our new living arrangements before jumping her bones the way I desired.

"Damn. New girl's killing it," Bradley observed, his words dousing my salacious thoughts like a bucket of ice water. I'd been so preoccupied with watching Sloan that I hadn't even noticed him approach me. "Easy on the eyes, too," he added, giving her an appreciative once over that had me seeing red.

My jaw clenched as I gritted out, "Lexa's off limits."

Sloan informed me in the car that she always used a new alias whenever she moved to a new place. It made sense, but it would still take some getting used to.

Bradley put his hands up in the air. "Whoa, boss. I meant no disrespect. I didn't know she was your girlfriend, obviously, or I would've kept that last thought to myself."

I didn't correct him. "Well, now you know."

I didn't know what Sloan and I were to each other now, but "girlfriend" and "boyfriend" didn't even remotely begin to encapsulate the depth of what I felt for her and what I hoped she felt for me too.

"You can go home now, Bradley." I almost felt bad at the crestfallen expression on his face. "It's not a punishment. I was going to send someone home early today anyway, and since you pulled an extra shift the other night, I figured you'd want the time off."

He shrugged, relaxing a bit at the explanation. "Actually, that would be great, if you don't mind. My niece has a dance recital in a few hours, and I'd love to show my support."

I clapped him on the back, giving him a broad smile. "Sounds like a day well spent. Go on. We've got everything covered here."

"See you tomorrow, boss," he replied brightly before disappearing into the crowd to retrieve his things in the back where the lockers were.

I moved behind the main bar, sending the female bartender who'd been working alongside Sloan to attend to the outside courtyard. In total, there were six bars at The Blushing Rose—three on the first floor, one outside, and two upstairs. The main bar downstairs was always the most hectic, but it also yielded the most revenue. I planned to give my earnings from tonight to Sloan so she could start saving or buy whatever she needed to settle into New Orleans.

Sloan side-eyed me as I took an order from an attractive bachelorette party. The drunk bride-to-be reached over the bar and ran her hand over my bicep, shamelessly admiring my physique. "Are you on the menu?"

The maid of honor added, "Do all bartenders in New Orleans look like you? Because if so, I'll gladly extend my trip."

Flirting was an aspect of my job I normally relished. The attention was a huge boost to my ego, and it always meant great tips. Now though, I felt keenly aware of Sloan's attention on me as the woman explored me.

I chuckled. "Not tonight, ladies. But just for that, I'm giving you and your friends here a free round of lemon drops."

The women cheered as I moved toward the supplies I needed. Sloan bumped my leg with her hip, and I looked over at her. She was grinning in a way that made me wish we were alone.

Her tone was light and teasing as she said, "I'm feeling competitive today, D. Care to make things interesting with a friendly wager?"

My brows lifted. "With you? I'm ready for anything, sweetness. What game do you have in mind?"

She lifted her chin as she slid a beer to a man in a Saints baseball cap and matching t-shirt. "Whoever gets the most phone numbers by the end of the shift wins."

My voice turned low. "And what exactly does the winner get in return?"

"Whatever they want. A favor, an errand, a confession...a kiss. Anything really."

I nearly dropped the shot glass in my hand. "Oh, I'm going to want a lot more than a kiss. Is that something you can handle?"

She snorted. "I can handle anything. But I don't need to. I won't lose."

I laughed darkly. "We'll see about that, little minx." I turned my attention to the bridal party again, winking for emphasis. The group of women collectively swooned before giggling their heads off. "After I win, can I claim what I want when I want it? I've had some time to think about what I want to do to you, Lexa, and I want you well-rested for what I have in store."

Truthfully, I'd take Sloan any way she came to me, but I'd prefer it if she wasn't just getting off of a ten-hour shift, tired and feet aching, when I spent hours making her come around my cock for the first time. Still, I was curious about what she'd do to me if she won the bet. It was a wonderful dilemma to have.

Her cheeks pinkened slightly, but she held my gaze. "Fine. The winner can claim a prize of their choosing at any time. Sound good?"

Without breaking eye contact, I tossed a bottle of vodka into the air, spinning in a circle as I caught it behind my back before pouring the liquid into a silver shaker. Her emerald eyes danced at the maneuver.

"Sounds like heaven, sweetness."