surrounding tables as Joe waited to see what Mohler would do. His face turned red, but he wasn’t brave enough to challenge Tom Dempsey. There was a reason the bar didn’t employ a bouncer.
They didn’t have to.
“Come on, boys. The air in here is starting to stink.”
Tom backed up far enough for the men to get up from the table and head for the door. As soon as they were out of earshot, he looked at Joe. “In the kitchen. Now.”
Shit.
Could his night get any fucking worse?
“What the hell are you doing out there? I have a full dining room and you’re trying to start a brawl?”
Joe crossed to the dishwasher and unloaded his tub. “I’m not an idiot. I wasn’t going to hit him.”
“You sure as hell wanted to,” Tom growled.
“Hell yeah, I wanted to. I’ve wanted to for years.” Though he’d always been able to ignore Mohler’s asshole ways before. “But I didn’t, so lay off.”
“You know he’s a prick. I don’t know why you let him get to you like that.”
“He said the wrong thing, that’s all.” Joe slammed two plates into the strainer, chipping the one in his right hand. “Fuck.”
“I’ve lost customers, I don’t need to lose my plates, too,” Tom said, sliding the tub away. “What did he say?”
“He said Beth has a nice ass, that’s what. I was defending Lucas’s fiancée’s honor, since he can’t be bothered to be here and do it himself.” Joe grabbed the tub and reached for two more plates, making an extra effort not to break them. “Anything else you want to know?”
When his dad remained silent, Joe turned to see his face. The look said everything Tom wasn’t about to say out loud. Joe dumped the last of the silverware in the soaking water and headed back to the floor.
CHAPTER SIX
T he relief of connecting her bottom to a chair drew a long sigh from Beth. A hot bath would be better, but by the time this night was over she’d have enough energy to crawl into bed and nothing more. For now, sitting on the bench outside Dempsey’s would have to do.
The blisters she’d developed on her walk that morning were not happy about waiting tables. Turned out Aunty Claudine’s ointment went only so far. She’d been able to wear the slippers, which were really just terry-cloth flip-flops, back to the Dempsey house, where she’d followed Lola’s orders and soaked her feet in saltwater.
But the slippers weren’t appropriate for the restaurant, so she’d switched to Keds, figuring the soft material would be her best choice. She’d been wrong.
With the first shoe half-off, the pressure eased, but removing it completely would mean brushing the opening across the blister. After taking a few fortifying breaths, then holding one in, she jerked the Ked the rest of the way.
“Cotton picken’ fricken’ fracken’.”
“Is that your idea of cursing?” came a now familiar voice from her left. She looked up to find his eyes on herfoot. “What the hell did you do?” Joe reached the bench in two strides, taking her ankle in hand. “Are these from tonight?”
“No,” Beth hissed as Joe examined the bloody wound centimeters below her left pinky toe. “They’re from this morning. I wore new sandals to walk the island. Not my best idea.”
Joe sat down, then lowered her foot into his lap. Beth tried to pull away. “What are you—”
“Hold still, damn it. Why the hell’d you work the floor when you were hurt like this?”
“I had Band-Aids on them. I guess that one is still in the shoe.” The more Joe ran his hands along her foot and ankle, the more Beth squirmed. She felt as if she’d spiked a temperature, certain areas feeling more heated than others. “I’m fine, really. I came out here to put on new Band-Aids, and then I’ll clean them better when I get back to your parents’ house.”
Joe lifted her foot, stood, then gingerly lowered it down to where he’d been sitting. Returning to the entrance, he opened the door halfway and yelled, “Dad!
They didn’t have to.
“Come on, boys. The air in here is starting to stink.”
Tom backed up far enough for the men to get up from the table and head for the door. As soon as they were out of earshot, he looked at Joe. “In the kitchen. Now.”
Shit.
Could his night get any fucking worse?
“What the hell are you doing out there? I have a full dining room and you’re trying to start a brawl?”
Joe crossed to the dishwasher and unloaded his tub. “I’m not an idiot. I wasn’t going to hit him.”
“You sure as hell wanted to,” Tom growled.
“Hell yeah, I wanted to. I’ve wanted to for years.” Though he’d always been able to ignore Mohler’s asshole ways before. “But I didn’t, so lay off.”
“You know he’s a prick. I don’t know why you let him get to you like that.”
“He said the wrong thing, that’s all.” Joe slammed two plates into the strainer, chipping the one in his right hand. “Fuck.”
“I’ve lost customers, I don’t need to lose my plates, too,” Tom said, sliding the tub away. “What did he say?”
“He said Beth has a nice ass, that’s what. I was defending Lucas’s fiancée’s honor, since he can’t be bothered to be here and do it himself.” Joe grabbed the tub and reached for two more plates, making an extra effort not to break them. “Anything else you want to know?”
When his dad remained silent, Joe turned to see his face. The look said everything Tom wasn’t about to say out loud. Joe dumped the last of the silverware in the soaking water and headed back to the floor.
CHAPTER SIX
T he relief of connecting her bottom to a chair drew a long sigh from Beth. A hot bath would be better, but by the time this night was over she’d have enough energy to crawl into bed and nothing more. For now, sitting on the bench outside Dempsey’s would have to do.
The blisters she’d developed on her walk that morning were not happy about waiting tables. Turned out Aunty Claudine’s ointment went only so far. She’d been able to wear the slippers, which were really just terry-cloth flip-flops, back to the Dempsey house, where she’d followed Lola’s orders and soaked her feet in saltwater.
But the slippers weren’t appropriate for the restaurant, so she’d switched to Keds, figuring the soft material would be her best choice. She’d been wrong.
With the first shoe half-off, the pressure eased, but removing it completely would mean brushing the opening across the blister. After taking a few fortifying breaths, then holding one in, she jerked the Ked the rest of the way.
“Cotton picken’ fricken’ fracken’.”
“Is that your idea of cursing?” came a now familiar voice from her left. She looked up to find his eyes on herfoot. “What the hell did you do?” Joe reached the bench in two strides, taking her ankle in hand. “Are these from tonight?”
“No,” Beth hissed as Joe examined the bloody wound centimeters below her left pinky toe. “They’re from this morning. I wore new sandals to walk the island. Not my best idea.”
Joe sat down, then lowered her foot into his lap. Beth tried to pull away. “What are you—”
“Hold still, damn it. Why the hell’d you work the floor when you were hurt like this?”
“I had Band-Aids on them. I guess that one is still in the shoe.” The more Joe ran his hands along her foot and ankle, the more Beth squirmed. She felt as if she’d spiked a temperature, certain areas feeling more heated than others. “I’m fine, really. I came out here to put on new Band-Aids, and then I’ll clean them better when I get back to your parents’ house.”
Joe lifted her foot, stood, then gingerly lowered it down to where he’d been sitting. Returning to the entrance, he opened the door halfway and yelled, “Dad!
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