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5-Even Odds

PIPPA

For a weekday, Clancy’s is busier than normal. The bar is packed with college students and regulars. The hardwood floor is littered with husks and the scent of peanuts, liquor, and beer, intermittently waft on the air-conditioned breeze.

I scan the space for Justice. He should be easily visible with his height and piercing Aegean Sea eyes, but the man is nowhere to be seen. Sam, his second in command is, though. He signals me over when he notices me.

“What’s up, Pip?”

“Nothing much, Sam. I’m just meeting Darla and the rest.” I locate my group, and after giving them a wave, I hold up a finger, indicating I need a second. As I turn back to Sam, my stomach growls, reminding me I haven’t eaten since lunch. Kat has set a taskmaster pace, and I rarely get a chance to eat, let alone a minute to breathe.

“Hey, Sam? Are there any peanuts back there?” Justice usually keeps some tins on top of the bar, but with it being so crowded, they’ve all been claimed.

“Sure, there are.” Sam’s brown eyes twinkle. “Just come on back and help yourself. The tins are in the same spot.”

A patron claims Sam’s attention and I nod my thanks before heading to the far end of the bar. I left the divider and right away I spot the heavy bag of peanuts resting in its familiar place.

How often had I lugged a fifty-pound sack from the storage room?

In truth, not much.

Justice would usually come from wherever he was at, pluck the bag from my hands, and then hoist it over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing at all. I’d give him hell for helping, he’d laugh, and after a moment, I’d always join in. The nostalgia of good times hits me, making me pause.

I miss working here.

During my shifts, Justice and I were a seamless team, each anticipating the other’s needs. He would get a crate of beer right before the last one ran out. I would have the glasses ready when the bar became crowded. Little things that added up and made working together a breeze.

And always, after the bar closed, we’d talk while we swept and made ready for the next day. Our conversations ending with a “goodnight” and a hug at the door of my apartment.

Politics to fashion. Economics to cartoons. We talked about anything and everything.

Including why I left Texas.

By the time I’d finished relaying everything that happened from the circumstances around my adoption to my stepfather’s heinous act, the moon had fallen and the sun had taken over the sky.

Pinning me with his turquoise eyes, Justice had taken my cold, wringing hands in his, vowing to always have my back. Only then did I become a little less afraid of what I’d escaped from.

That night-turned-day talk also saw the start of something new. Justice didn’t just drop me off at my door like he had for a month. From then on, he insisted on checking the apartment ... for intruders.

Swish. Crack.

My hands bring me back to the bar. They’re occupied with scooping peanuts into a tin, yet they itch just the same. I almost give into their need when a crotch bumps my backside and large hands press into my waist.

“Justice, that better be you, or so help—“

His baritone laugh rings out above the din. A few patrons stare at us curiously before going back to their conversations. Justice spins me around, and I look up at my former boss, narrowing my eyes in mock anger. He makes a kissing sound between his sculpted lips before breaking out into a boyish grin.

My iciness thaws and I return his smile. I allow Justice liberties I wouldn’t give to another man because we both know things won’t go any further.

Justice has too many women for that.

I give him a light slap on his tanned shoulder, right above his surfer tattoo. Justice claims he has six tattoos. I’ve only seen the five on his arms. I’ve yet to see the one on his chest.

“You must have lost your damn mind grabbing me like that.” I narrow my eyes like I’m mad. “I should tell Jenna on you.”

Ever since Jenna delivered the beatdown on that guy, the first thing Justice does is tremble and bite his nails when he sees her. His pretend fear of my roomie never fails to make me laugh as Jenna only comes up to the middle of his chest.

Justice throws back his blond man-pony head. His muscle shirt strains across his chest as he laughs at my empty threat. His deep dimples pop out in his cheeks, and his blue-green eyes crinkle around the corners.

“I’m serious, Justice. I’ll tell her.”

“Yeah? Okay. Okay. I don’t want to upset Princess Jenna.” He releases me from his hold and steps back. “Listen, Pip, if you promise not to tell her, I’ll buy you and your friends a round of drinks.”

“How can you buy us anything? You own the place?” I ask, stating the obvious.

“Yeah, that I do.” He scoops up another tin of peanuts, handing me the two buckets.

A brunette and blonde, wearing NYU hoodies, eye him from the opposite side of the bar top. He catches them looking and sizes them up—probably to devour them later.

When I move to leave, he catches my arm, stepping to me. “So, when are you coming back to work for me, Pip?” He gives me his lopsided, double-dimple smile. The one that makes women hop naked and quivering into his bed.

Not this woman.

I jerk away from his hold. His eyes widen in surprise. I walk backwards, putting a good amount of space between us. Scrunching my features into a melted wax of hurt, I let my voice carry to his almost conquests of the evening. “I’ll never come back to work here! Not until you at least start paying the back child support you owe for our six kids!”

The blonde’s eyes bug out of her head. Her jaw falls slack with amazement. The brunette mouths six kids while shaking her head in disbelief. Not a second later, the co-eds slide off their stools and leave for parts unknown.

Frowning, Justice follows them with his eyes. I saunter up and poke him in the middle of his six-pack. “Next time you want to grab me like that, big man, you ask for my permission.”

Justice scratches the dark blond scruff on his chin while his gorgeous eyes glitter with amusement.

“Damn, Pippa,” he says. “You’re so cold.”

I sigh. If he only knew.

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