Sweet Little Lies: Heartbreaker Bay Book 1 (5 page)

“Nah, but I got second draft pick.”

Annie, one of the three servers coming on shift for the night, stuck her head in. “Already filling up out front,” she told them both.

“Got your back, darlin’,” Sean said and set Finn’s now empty glass back onto his desk. “Always.”

Annie smiled dreamily at him.

Sean winked at her and slid out of the office before Finn could remind him of their
no sleeping
with the hired help policy. Swearing to himself, Finn grabbed
his iPad and followed. He intended to go over inventory, but was immediately waved to the far end of the bar.

Sitting at it were some of his closest friends, most of them having been linked together in one way or another for years.

Archer lifted his beer in a silent toast. The ex-cop worked on the second floor of the building running a private security and investigation firm. He and Finn went back as far as middle school. They’d gone to college together. It’d been Archer who’d been with him in their shared, tiny frat boy apartment the night the cops had come to the door—not because Finn had been caught doing something stupid, but because his dad had just died.

Next to Archer sat Willa. Bossy as hell, nosy as hell, and loyal as hell, Willa would give a perfect stranger the shirt off her back if Finn and Archer didn’t watch her like a hawk.

Spencer was there too. The mechanical engineer didn’t say much, but when he did it was often so profound the rest of them just stared at him in shock and awe. Quiet, although not particularly shy or introverted, he’d recently sold his start-up for an undisclosed sum and hadn’t decided on his next step. All Finn knew was that he was clearly unhappy.

Since pushing Spence was like trying to push a twenty-foot-wide concrete wall over, they’d all unanimously decided to let it be for now. Finn knew he’d talk about it when he was good and ready and nothing could rush that. For now he seemed . . . well, if not miserable, at least better, and was currently stealing French fries on the sly from Elle’s basket.

Elle
was new to the group but had fit right in with the exception of Archer. Finn didn’t know what was up, but the two of them studiously avoided each other whenever possible. Everyone but Elle was in shorts and tees, looking bedraggled, a little sweaty and a whole lot dusty. Elle hadn’t gone on the hike. She didn’t do dirt. Or excursion. Dressed to kill as always, she wore a royal blue sleeveless sheath and coolly slapped Spence’s hand away from her fries.

He grinned in apology but the minute Elle’s back was turned, he stole another. Only Spence could do that and live.

Haley was there too, an intern at the optometrist’s shop on the ground floor of the building. But Finn’s gaze went directly to the last person sitting there, just as dusty as everyone but Elle.

Pru.

“Got suckered into the hike up Twin Peaks, huh?” he asked.

She smiled the smile of someone who was very proud of herself.

He grinned back. “Number four?” he guessed.

Her smile widened. “Three.”

Whoa. Finn turned to Spence, who shrugged. “On the way there, I calculated out who and what everyone’s going to pick in the draft,” Spence said. “All I needed was the fourth pick, so I didn’t see any reason to go crazy out there.”

“You did that on the way there,” Finn repeated, a little awed.

“Actually, I worked it out in my head before we even left.”

Elle
looked at Spence. “Remember when you told me to tell you when you were acting like that kid that no one would want to be friends with?”

Spence just grinned and stole another fry.

“She looks so delicate,” Willa said and jabbed a thumb in Pru’s direction. “Totally thought I could take her.” She shook her head. “She wiped the trail with me.”

“You do a lot of hiking?” Finn asked Pru.

“Not lately.” She lifted a shoulder and sipped at what looked like a plain soda. “I haven’t had time,” she said demurely. “I’m out of shape.”

Archer laughed. “Don’t believe that for a second. This girl can move when she’s got inspiration, and apparently she takes her fantasy football seriously. You should’ve seen those long legs in action.”

Oh, Finn had. In his sexual fantasies.

“Why didn’t you go?” she asked. “Didn’t want to show off
your
long legs?”

Archer choked on beer. “I like her,” he announced.

Finn didn’t take his eyes off Pru. Hers were lit with amusement, which went well with the streak of dirt across her jaw. There was another over her torso, specifically her left breast. “I have great legs,” he said.

“Uh huh.”

“I do. Tell her,” he said to the room.

Spence shrugged noncommittally. “Archer’s are better.”

Archer grinned. “Damn straight.”

Elle let out a rare smile. “I like her too,” she said to Archer.

“It’s not about my legs,” Finn said to Pru. Shit, and now he sounded defensive.

“Maybe
you should prove it,” she said casually and Archer choked again.

Willa bounced up and down in her seat, clapping. “It’s like Christmas!”

“We’re keeping her, right?” Spence asked.

“Hey,” Sean said, bringing them another pitcher of beer. “If a lady wanted to see my legs, I’d show her. Just sayin’.”

Asshole
.

Pru turned expectantly back to Finn and he had to laugh. “What, right here?” he asked in disbelief.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because . . .” Jesus. How had he lost control of this conversation? “I am not dropping trou right here,” he said stiffly, and great, because now he sounded like he had a stick up his ass.

“Maybe he hasn’t shaved,” Willa said. “That’d keep me from dropping trou. I only shaved from my knees down. My thighs are as hairy as a lumberjack’s chest, which is why I’m wearing capris and not short shorts. You are all welcome.”

Elle nodded like this made perfect sense.

“Gonna have to prove it to the lady,” Archer said ever so helpfully to Finn. “Drop ’em.”

He was an asshole too.

Willa grinned and tapped her hands on the bar in rhythm and began to chant. “Drop ’em, drop ’em . . .”

The others joined in. Shit. They were
all
assholes.

Pru leaned in over the bar and gave him a come here gesture. He shifted close and met her halfway, stilling when she put her mouth to his ear.

“No one but me can see behind the bar,” she whispered.

It
took a moment to compute her words because at first all he could concentrate on was the feel of her lips on his ear. When she exhaled, her warm breath caressed his skin and he had to remind himself that he was in a crowded bar, surrounded by his idiot friends.

She smiled enticingly.

“Not happening,” he said on a laugh. At least not here, with an audience. He wondered if she’d still be playing with him if they were alone in his bed. Or if that was too far away, his office . . .

Her hair fell into his face and a stubborn silky strand stuck to the stubble on his jaw. He didn’t care. She might be streaked with dirt but she smelled amazing.

He was mid-sniff when she whispered, “Fun Whisperer, remember?”

“Maybe I’m commando,” he whispered back and was gratified by her quick intake of breath and the darkening of her eyes. “Either way,” he said, “I don’t drop trou on the first date.”

She bit her lower lip and let her gaze drop over him, probably trying to figure out if he was telling the truth about going commando.

Then her phone buzzed and she flashed him a grin as she stepped aside to answer it.

Sean came close and nudged him as they both watched Pru talk into her cell. “That’s the woman for you.”

“No,” Finn said. “She’s not. You know I don’t date women in the building.”

“Which would be a great rule if you ever left the building.”

“I leave the building.” To get to and from work, but
still. He resented the implication that his life wasn’t enough as is.

Elle shoved her glass under Sean’s nose. She didn’t like beer on tap. “Earn your keep, bar wench.”

Sean rolled his eyes but took the glass. “What do you want, your highness? Something pink with an umbrella in it, I suppose?”

“Do I look like a college coed to you?” she asked. “I’ll take a martini.”

He grinned and shifted away to make it for her. Willa came around to Finn’s side of the bar. She was tiny, barely came up to his shoulder, but she was like a mother cat when riled. He knew better than to go toe to toe with her, especially when she was giving him The Look. But he wasn’t in the mood. “No,” he said.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

“You’re going to say I’m being a stupid guy,” Finn said. “But newsflash, I am a guy and sometimes we’re stupid. Deal with it.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.” She paused when he slid her a look and she sighed. “Okay, fine, I was. But you
are
being stupid.”

“Shock,” he said.

She put her hand on his arm until he blew out a breath and looked at her again.

“I’m worried about you,” she said softly. “You’ve got yourself on lockdown. I know this place has taken off and you’re so busy, but it’s like Sean is the one having all the fun with it and you’re just . . . letting him. What about you, Finn? When is it going to be about you?”

He turned and watched Sean work his magic charisma on a gaggle of young twenties at the other end of
the bar. He’d never gotten to be just a kid. The least Finn could do was let him be twenty-two. “He deserves it.”

“And you don’t? You’re working like crazy and just going through the motions.”

True or not, he didn’t want to hear it. “You want anything to eat?”

She sighed, getting the message, which was part of why he loved her so much. “No, thanks, I’ve gotta go. Gotta get up early tomorrow for a wedding. I’ve got a cake to make and flowers to arrange.”

He found a smile. “Another dog wedding?”

In on the joke that she made more money off dog tiaras and elaborate animal weddings than grooming and pet supplies, she laughed. “Parrots.”

Finn laughed too and gave her a hug goodnight. As she walked away, his gaze automatically searched for Pru. The gang was all moving to the back room and she was with them, heading for either the pool table or the dartboards. It was tourney night.

He took some orders and flagged down Sean to pass them off. “Fill these for Workaholic, Playboy, and Desperado at your four, five, and six o’clock.” He turned and caught Pru staring at him. She’d come back for the bag of leftover chicken wings she’d forgotten.

“Workaholic, Playboy, and Desperado?” she asked.

“Customers,” Sean explained.

“We all have nicknames?” she asked.

“No,” Finn said.

“Yes,” Sean said. And then the helpful bastard pointed out some more in the place. “Klutz, Pee-Dub, and Woodie.”

“Pee-Dub?”

Sean
grinned. “He’s an old friend with a very new wife. He’s Pussy-Whipped. PW, which cuts down to Pee-Dub. Get it?”

“I’m sorry to say I do,” she said, laughing. “And Woodie?”

Sean smiled. “Would you like me to explain that one to you?”

Finn reached out, put his hand over Sean’s face and shoved.

“Hey, she asked,” he said, voice muffled.

“What’s my nickname?” Pru asked.

Shit. This wasn’t going to end well. “Not everyone has a nickname,” he said.

She narrowed her eyes. “Spill it, Grandpa.”

Sean snorted.

Even Finn had to laugh. “Well it
should
be Pushy.”

“Uh huh,” she said. “Tell me something I don’t know. Come on, what do you two call me?”

“Your first day in the building, it was Daisy,” Sean told her. “Because you were holding flowers.”

“From my boss for my new place,” she said. “What changed?”

“We saw you feeding our homeless guy, so we switched it to Sucker.”

“Hey,” she said, hands on hips. “He’s a nice guy and he was hungry.”

“He’s hungry because he makes pot brownies,” Finn said. “They give him the munchies. And just so you know, we all feed him too. He’s got food, Pru. He’s just got a good eye for the sweet cuties who are also suckers.”

She blushed and he laughed.

“So
I’m Sucker? Really?”

“Nope,” Sean said. “You’re Trouble with a capital T.”

Finn shook his head at him. “Don’t you have some orders to fill?”

Sean laughed and walked off, leaving him with Pru.

“I’m not a
lot
of trouble,” she said.

His gaze slid to her mouth. “You sure about that?”

“Completely.” And then she flashed him an indeed trouble-filled smile.

And that’s when he knew.
He
was the one in trouble. Deep trouble. “What can I get you?” he asked, his voice unintentionally husky.

“I was sent over here to get a set of darts.”

“You play?” he asked, digging some out of a drawer.

“No, but I’m a quick learner. I can do this.”

He felt yet another laugh bubble up. “Good ’tude,” he said. “Tell Spence to go easy on you, darts are his game. And don’t bet against Archer. He grew up a bar rat, you can’t beat him.”

She bit her lip. “He said he was new at darts.”

“Shit,” Finn said. “He already conned you, didn’t he?”

“No worries,” she said. “I’ve got this.”

He watched her go, shook his head, and then got busy making drinks because Sean was very busy flirting with Man-eater at one of the tables, even though she had already eaten him up and spit him out just last month.

When Finn looked up again after fulfilling a bunch of orders, half an hour had gone by and some serious chanting was coming out of the back room.

“Bull’s-eye, bull’s-eye, bull’s-eye . . .”

He whistled for Sean. “Need two mojitos,” he said
and dried off his hands before heading out from behind the bar.

“Hey, I’m busy,” Sean complained. “Getting some digits over here. Where are you going—Hey, you can’t just walk away, you—
Hell
,” he muttered when Finn didn’t slow.

He entered the back room hoping like hell Archer wasn’t taking advantage of Pru. She had a sweet smile, and even though he knew she had a mischievous side and a unique ability to change the energy in a room for the better, she was no match against his friends.