Page 56 of Shifting Sands
We all burst out laughing. I swipe lime juice from the corners of my mouth and glance across the bar instinctively, searching for Brew.
And there he is.
Leaning against the bar in a tight black T-shirt, loose flannel, dark jeans, and that ever-present smirk that’s half trouble, half promise. He’s talking to a bartender, probably putting in some kind of order, but then the bartender nods and says something that catches my attention.
“Got it, boss.”
I blink.
Boss?
I watch the bartender walk off to speak to a guy who is standing on the other side of the bar. His angry eyes shoot to Brew, who just rubs the back of his neck.
That’s … weird.
I glance toward the entrance just in time to see a bouncer nod at Brew, and then the bouncer walks over and stands at the wall behind the guy.
Okay. What the hell?
I turn to Audrey, who’s closest. “Hey, why did that bartender call Brew boss?”
She freezes, just slightly. Her smile doesn’t drop, but there’s a micro-shift. Her eyes dart to Brew, then back to me.
“Oh, it’s just … you know, bar slang,” she says, waving it off. “Like how some people call the guy in charge Chief or whatever. It’s nothing.”
“The guy in charge?”
“Well, he’s been around forever,” she continues. “Knows the place inside and out. The staff just … respects his seniority.”
“Oh,” I mutter.
Before I can press her, I feel a hand slide around my waist.
“Dance with me,” Brew murmurs against my ear, his voice low and sweet.
I don’t have time to answer.
He tugs me toward the dance floor, weaving through the crowd until we’re swallowed by the music. A slow, sexy song has just started—something smoky and low—and his hands find my hips, guiding me.
“Hi,” I say. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you since we got here.”
The party started at Sebastian and Avie’s house with food and a cake. But once the champagne started flowing, the girls were determined to come out dancing to celebrate the happy couple.
His lips brush my temple. “I get distracted when I’m here. It’s hard to relax.”
At least he’s honest about that.
The beat hums beneath our feet, steady and deliberate, and Brew presses closer. His chest against mine. His hand splayedlow on my back, fingers flexing like he can’t get close enough. The crowd fades into a blur of movement as our bodies sway together like we’ve done this a hundred times before.
He dips his head, lips grazing my ear. “Are you having a good time?”
I tilt my face to his. “I am. Your friends are great. They make me miss my crowd back home.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “You homesick?”
“Maybe a little, but I’m not in a hurry to leave.”
His smile is slow. Dangerous. “Good, because I’m not ready for you to go just yet.”
