So far everyone had been friendly. For the most part. If any of the men got too friendly or handsy, all she had to do was whisper something to Dodge in passing and he’d have a “discussion” with whomever it was. Usually it was a very “serious” chat with a lot of quick head nodding on the listener’s part.
And usually, the next time Cassie had to serve that table, the occupants were much more respectful.
When things slowed down later in the evening, Dodge—or Stella, if she was still around—would teach her how to work behind the bar. How to pour a draft without a lot of head. How to mix drinks without over pouring. And how to use the old, worn bartender’s bible kept behind the bar. Not too many people asked for mixed drinks other than some liquor mixed with soda, like a simple rum and Coke. And those she could handle easily.
Stella told her to get to know the regulars, learn their names, learn a little about their lives and talk to them as if they were friends. That would help get her bigger tips.
And it did.
Even when her feet ached, she kept a smile on her face and kept the conversation flowing. She didn’t have a problem with small talk, as she had to do it often with her previous job.
While being a “bar maid” was different than being a vet tech, it was also somewhat fun and staying busy kept her mind occupied.
Better yet, she was making cash money.
However, right now her mind was focused on Judge. She, out of the corner of her eye, tracked him heading to the bar and settling his big body on an empty stool.
Cassie put the beers down on a small high table in the pool room, grabbed the cash, and tucked it into the little server apron she wore to keep her tips and make change. Dodge had grinned and shook his head when she showed up with it on Saturday night, but it helped her be better at her job. She also kept a small notepad in one of the pockets in case she got a large order. She didn’t want to rely on her memory, screw up the order and then lose out on a decent tip.
So, Dodge could tease her all he wanted, but she didn’t care.
She picked up a few empties near the pool tables, and as she headed back to the bar, she stopped at a table, asked if she could get the two occupants fresh beers and then moved behind the bar, setting the dirty glasses into the sink and tossing the empty bottles into the recycle bin.
She ignored the giant of a man, whose eyes had followed her once she had hit the corner of the bar. He was watching her as he talked to Dodge, who was standing in front of him and serving him a full pint glass.
Cassie didn’t like when Dodge’s gaze slid toward her as Judge continued to talk. When it slid back to Judge, he wore a grin.
No, she didn’t like that at all.
She sighed and, as she filled two more beer glasses at the taps, Dodge sidled up to her. “Wants you to serve him.”
Cassie kept her eyes focused on the rising beer. “Why?”
“Why does any man wanna talk to a woman?”
“I’m not interested.” She closed the tap and waited for the beer to settle as she added them to the customer’s tab in the register, feeling Judge’s eyes on her the whole time.
Dodge leaned into her. “Tips good.”
Yes, but how much would those big tips cost her? “I’m okay with the customers I have right now.”
Dodge straightened and, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shrug and move away.
Cassie blew out a breath and took the two beers to the waiting customers. She made a quick round checking on all the occupied tables and then froze as she saw Judge move to one, both American bulldogs casually following him. With a satisfied look on his face, he folded his length into a chair and the dogs settled nearby.
Daisy would love those dogs, absolutely go bonkers over them. She was always begging for a dog, but she was too young to be responsible for one. Maybe once they found a place, she’d let her daughter have a guinea pig or something.
Until then...
Until then, she needed tips to get her own place where she could start fresh.
And to get tips, she needed to be nice to customers.
Being nice meant striking up a conversation.
Judge was no different than any other customer in Crazy Pete’s.
Or that was what she told herself.
Because if she looked deep enough, something about the huge biker kept catching her attention.
Maybe it was the way he had talked to Daisy. Maybe it was the way he had been with her.
Maybe it was his larger than life presence every time she’d run into him.
Even so, she just needed to put her head down and work on moving forward.
Judge could be a huge speed bump. One she didn’t need to hit right now. Especially since she was currently running with only one wheel instead of a whole set. And that one wheel had damage already.
The table was empty in front of him and she glanced toward the bar where he had been previously sitting. He’d downed the beer Dodge had served him at the bar and left the empty glass behind.
Just so she’d have to wait on him.
With a sigh, she braced herself and headed over to him, stopping opposite of where he sat so they’d have the table between them.
She plastered on a smile. “Hi.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners, locked on hers and he jerked up his chin. “Yo.” His grunt was so guttural, it sounded like it came deep from within the cavern of his chest. She imagined he could be very loud when he needed to be.
But he didn’t seem the booming type. More on the quiet side unless he had a reason to raise his voice. And most people probably hoped they weren’t that reason. Because she was also sure when he yelled, he could be very scary. His voice, his height—which had to be six-two or six-three—his long, thick beard, those intense green eyes that probably missed nothing...
“What can I get you?”
“Just wanna talk.”
Cassie quickly glanced around the interior of the bar. “I’m busy.”
“Woulda talked to you at the bar, but you refused to wait on me.”
“I didn’t refuse.”
He cocked an eyebrow. His head was covered with a dark gray beanie. Not once had she seen his hair and she wondered if it was as long as his beard. She didn’t like beards that long. She liked them neat and trimmed, where it didn’t hide a man’s features. Maybe a little shorter than Dodge’s.
Though, Judge’s beard seemed to emphasize his nicely shaped lips and those green eyes. And his cheekbones.
He’d probably be really handsome without all that shaggy hair. The hair Daisy was determined to pet.
“I didn’t realize Manning Grove was so small...”
He leaned back and crossed his thick arms over his very broad chest covered in a snug dark gray thermal and his leather biker vest.
“That I’d run into the same people so often,” she finished.
He still said nothing. But his eyes had a lot to say.
She just didn’t speak that language.
“Or maybe it’s not just coincidence.”
She finally realized after talking to him now a few times, what his voice reminded her of.
Slow moving thunder.
“Could be that my MC owns half this bar. Could be that Stella belongs to the club and she owns the other half. Could be the reason.”
“Could be. But I don’t think that’s it.”
Both eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Then what is it?”