“Hey, Ray,” called the waitress from behind the bar, “we’re getting hammered out here already. What are we doing about Barb?”

“Avery’s coming in early. She’ll be here in a few,” Ray says back.

I can’t help but chuckle at the thought of Avery working the bar. Ray’s daughter has always been mousy. We all called her Birdie when we were younger, because when she talked it sounded like chirping.

“Avery actually works here?” I half laugh to Ray as I join him behind the bar. Out of instinct, I start grabbing glasses and drying them. I did a lot of dishes at Dusty’s before I hit the road, and if Ray’s going to put me up for the next few weeks, the least I can do is help out until Birdie shows up.

“Yeah, she works the night shifts. She’s going to school, too. Girl works her ass off,” Ray says, either not picking up on the humor I see about Avery in a bar, or just ignoring it. “Hey, will you take these to the back and bring in the clean ones?” Ray asks, handing me a bin full of dirty glasses.

“Sure,” I say, lugging them with me to the back. Sal and Manny are working the kitchen today, so I spend a few minutes with them. Those two have been working here almost as long as my mom has, and they’re like uncles to me. Hell, Sal taught me how to throw a punch when I was getting picked on in fifth grade. And Manny taught me how to take one in high school. My mom was pissed when he punched me in the face, but when she found out it was because I was dating his daughter, she never brought it up again.

Ray yells through the swinging door. “Hey, Mason! Avery’s here, so why don’t you take my keys on over to the house and get settled?”

“Ah right, boys. I’ll catch ya later. I’m going to see if I can talk the old man into letting me play a night or two,” I wink. I dry my hands, and then shake theirs before heading back into the busy bar, where the crowd is starting to build. Ray’s manning the tap; it’s at least two-people deep, and most of the tables are full. I recognize a lot of the familiar faces, but there’s always a batch of new ones, too—tourists and college kids looking to party.

“You sure Ray? I can stay, help out?” I offer, but Ray just pulls out his keys and tosses them to me.

“Nah, this is nothing. Just another Thursday night!” he says, topping off a beer and going right in to fill the next one.

I grip the keys in my right hand, nod thanks to him and turn around, but before I make it a full step, I slam into one of the waitresses. Trying to stop myself, I accidentally grab her tit with my free hand.

“Ugh, ass**le!” she pushes me to the side as she flies by and whips through the swinging door into the back. All I see is her long, straight, strawberry-blond hair as she disappears. I’m probably going to see this girl for the next few weeks, so I follow her back past Sal and Manny into the small locker room, chuckling a little and looking at my left hand with fondness.

“Hey, wait…hey, I’m totally sorry. I really didn’t mean to grab…shit; I mean…I didn’t mean to do that. Damn, I’m sorry,” I say, lightly laughing and waiting for the girl to turn around.

“Whatever,” she says, clearly unimpressed with me. She pulls one leg up to tie her shoe on the bench, and then tucks her hair behind her ear. I’m about to give up and go when I realize just how bad this is.

“Birdie?” I say, my mouth moving toward a big grin. She tosses her head up when I say her name, and the fire in her green eyes pretty much knocks me on my f**king ass! This is not the Avery Abbot I knew in high school. I know I’m walking on thin ice, but I can’t help but let my eyes wander down from her soft face and pink lips to what might just be the tightest goddamned body I’ve ever seen. I can see every inch outlining her bra under the thin, white Dusty’s T-shirt; the black shorts hug her hips so well, I’m wishing like hell she’d turn around and drop something just so I could watch her pick it up.

“Mason,” she says, forcing my gaze back up to her eyes. She isn’t smiling when she looks at me. Shit, I need to fix this. I can’t have Ray’s daughter this pissed at me.

“I’m so sorry, Birdie. I wasn’t looking, and I totally didn’t know that was you,” I say, trying to make my tongue work in my mouth, while I search for something else to add, something smart. I’ve got nothing, so instead I just lean to the side and watch her push past me again. I breathe deeply when she walks by, and the girl actually smells like vanilla—like a f**king dessert!

I stumble back out to the bar and look at the keys in my hand, then back up to Avery as she ties the green apron around her tiny waist and pulls her hair back into a ponytail. She always wore her hair like that, but I don’t know—it’s somehow very different now. The tiny freckles on her neck have me in a bit of a trance when Ray bumps into me.