Abducted for love ( Bad Boy BBW BWWM Romance)(2)

By: Amanda Horton



Fixed up properly, Claire returned to the bar and dumped her bag. Charlie ran an eye over her face.

“You happy?” she asked him.

“Yes,” he said. “Now sell your ass off. I want a record night.” ***

The bar filled up. It was a young crowd tonight, full of excitement and wanting cocktails more than beer. So Claire was up to her armpits in peppermint liqueur, Jägermeister, and something Alicia was mixing called Golden Bowls, that had just about everything it them except the kitchen sink.

The music was loud and rocking with one of Claire’s favorite bands, The Juniper Blossoms, playing their hearts out on the little stage Charlie had set up for the summer. Voices tried to rise above the din but after years in this bar, Claire could just about read the patron’s minds and the sales were ringing in making Charlie smile, and the tips were raining down making the staff smile.

A world of swirling color slid around Claire all perfect and familiar. But there was one off note in her harmony. It took her a moment to realize that it was coming from the far end of the long bar. Seated in the corner, dragging a strange darkness with them were two men.

One look was all it took to know that they were brothers: the same high cheekbones and strong jawlines, same lips and thin noses. But there were differences. One was bigger, more muscled under his black t-shirt. This one seemed to radiate an air of barely contained energy like he might jump out of his skin at any moment. The other was smaller. He sat on the bar chair like he owned it and had sat in it for years. He had a friendly ease about him that made Claire just about tackle Alicia to the floor so she could get to them first.

“Go ahead!” Alicia said moving behind Claire her hands up in surrender.

Claire stumbled, crashing into the side of the bar in her haste to reach these two mystery men. The smaller one smiled, turning the most beautiful blue eyes on her. Claire tried to recover but those eyes were pulling the blush up her body from her toes. Oh God don’t you dare Claire, don’t you dare.

“So what’ll it be?” she asked using the tried and tested bartender line from antiquity.

“What beer do you have on tap?” the smaller man asked. His voice was like syrup, golden and delicious. He had a faint accent that Claire couldn’t place.

“Well, we got Millers, Heineken, Kilkenny, Guinness and the house craft beer.” Claire rattled them off, her gaze locked with his. Her elbows thudded on the bar as she leaned in handing him a menu. “They’re all on here.” She smiled.

“What is this Craft Beer?” the bigger one asked turning. Claire swallowed. Where his brother was smooth and refined this one was raw. He turned piercing blue eyes on her and then smiled the same hypnotic grin as his brother.

All her thoughts ran out of her ears. “Um…it’s made here. Charlie brews it in the basement actually.” She tossed her head on one side. Jed leaned in holding the menu up but not looking at it. She could feel his eyes slipping to her neckline. Thank you Jenny for the extra cleavage. “It’s a light beer; local; smooth; very tasty. Once you’ve tried it, you’ll never want anything else.” Claire purred and somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered what the hell she was doing.

“Mmm, I’ll have a Guinness, and my little brother Jed here will have a glass of milk,” said the bigger one. His accent was heavier, sounding very Eastern European.

The smaller one thumped his brother on the arm. “Don’t listen to Lance, he’s full of crap. Smooth and tasty, you say,” he licked his lips. “Never want anything else, eh? I’ll try the craft beer.”

Claire realized she was just leaning against the bar, staring. She managed to snap herself out of it.

“Coming right up,” she chirped and pushed herself slowly off the bar. As she walked away to place the order she turned to glance over her shoulder. Jed was still watching her. She put a little extra swing into her hips as she walked back down the bar to the barrels.

Away from the brothers she gulped fresh air and felt intensely grateful to be pouring something simple. But her hand was shaking anyway and she ended up with far too much foam on the Guinness, and not enough at all on the Craft.

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