Itsk, shaking my head. “Now why would we want to go and do a thing like that, Erinn?”
She giggles, then motions for me to join her behind the bar.
“You can’t flirt with me now,” she whispers. “I’m your boss.”
I incline my head. “Understood.” I give her another hit of the panty dropper for good measure and take the glass she hands me. “Pour me a Red Racer. Without head.”
I tip the glass and pull on the handle, then release a slow, steady pour.
Without head.
Wow. Is there anything Ican’tdo?
“Nicely done.” Erinn inclines her head. “Okay, get back to the other side and I’ll go grab you a shirt. You can wear anything on the bottom as long as it’s black. Jeans, Dickies…”
My gaze drops to her denim jean shorts.
“Girls are allowed to wear cutoffs.”
“They’re blue.”
“I don’t make the rules.” She scans my chest and shoulders. “You’re a… large?”
“Sure.”
She disappears into the back and my gaze drifts down the bar, locking with Maryn’s deep brown death stare.
And she is definitely not happy with me.
I raise my glass to her in salute, then take a sip. This is going to be fun.
When Erinn returns with my black Fast Lane brewing shirt, she hands it to me with a stack of paperwork. “If you can get this all filled out tonight and emailed over to me, I can get payroll set up and you can start tomorrow.”
Payroll. I’m going to need access to my bank accounts. Nodding, I raise my glass of blonde ale. “What do I owe you for this?”
“It’s on the house. Employees drink for free.”
“Nice.” I down the rest of the pint and extend my hand toward my new boss. “Thank you for the job, Erinn.”
“No problem…” She frowns, then her eyes widen. “I never asked your name.”
“Ri—” I cough to cover up the mistake I almost made. “Cas. Cas West.” I give her a quick salute, then head for the door, ignoring Maryn’s stare even though I can feel it burning my skin. Ooh, she’s mad as hell. I bite back the smile pulling at my lips and step outside into the sun.
Chapter Ten
Maryn
I exit the brewery and find him outside, leaning against the wall. His eyes are closed and his face is upturned to the sun.
Good grief, this man is beautiful. His tan skin is smooth, taut over muscles that look hard-earned. His messy, toffee-blond hair and the flirty smirk give him a boyish playfulness; they also make him look right at home in the California sunshine. His face is carved from stone, defined and manly, with a strong jaw, strong nose, and full, rosy lips. His eyelashes are thick, fanning out over his cheek bones.
He has to have done some modeling in his lifetime with a face like that.
It’s almost unfair that he’s so pretty.
“Are you just going to stand there staring at me?”
My breath catches.
