Mischief after Midnight

Chapter 2

Two

Would it be rude of him to snap a photo of Toni’s expression? It was a priceless mix of horror and…well, more horror. Bash restrained himself and tucked his phone back into his jacket pocket. “Hi, Toni. You look like you could use a drink. It’s on me.”

Finally she snapped her mouth shut.

Meanwhile, he was still adjusting to all-grown-up Toni Del Rey. His memories of her mostly involved a skinny kid who could work a dip net as well as a grown man. She was still on the slender side, but he wouldn’t call her skinny. She had real curves now.

He’d noticed as soon as she’d appeared from the back office like a graceful warrior angel. The dark hair that always used to get in her eyes was cut in an extremely flattering short-and-wavy style that showed off her cheekbones and made her eyes—mossy green mixed with shining brown—look huge.

Or maybe that was due to the shock of his appearance.

And his announcement.

Bash came closer and glanced up and down the bar. The crusty old fishermen were listening avidly, but the blond guy at the other end was still locked in with his girl. Lip-locked, at the moment.

Toni flung her arms in the air. “What’s going on today? It’s like everyone’s lost their minds. Does anyone else have any bombshells they want to drop?”

“I caught a gray cod with a face like a mermaid,” said one of the customers. “And then I—”

Toni held up a finger. “Rhetorical question. Shh.” She turned back to Bash. “Bash, cut the crap. Is this a prank? Are you recording this for Tristan or the town f*******: page?”

He shook his head in amusement. A prank. He’d forgotten about all the mischief they used to get into. It seemed so long ago. “It’s real. Sally just texted me the final offer.”

She blinked at him. He noticed that her lips were more full than he remembered. Then again, she’d only been fifteen the last time he saw her, his best friend’s little sister, and he’d paid no attention to her lips.

“Is she expecting you now?”

“She is, but I have a few minutes.” He took a seat on one of the vintage leather barstools.

“Good, because I have a few questions. Do you still want that drink? Owner drinks for free. Or at least Sally did.”

“I’ll take whatever’s on tap. I’m not picky.”

With that fluid, efficient stride, she moved to the beer taps and pulled one at random. “Well, I am picky, especially when it comes to my employers. I have very high standards.”

Toni brought him a glass tankard of ale, setting it down in front of him without fully meeting his eyes. Something was off here. He’d expected her to be pleased to see him. They’d practically grown up together, after all. Maybe she’d actually wanted to buy the place after all?

“Are you having second thoughts? Sally said you had right of first refusal but you said no. Nothing’s set in stone. I haven’t signed the papers yet.” He took a careful sip of the ale. Even though he’d put his UFC career on pause, he was still cautious about what he put into his body, especially anything that might affect his alertness. That was how he’d learned to survive: stay on guard.

Toni shook her head, looking mystified. “It’s just so freaking sudden. I just met with her. What if I’d decided to buy it myself?”

“That’s the thing about Sally. She’s very sharp about people. She told me you’d never go for it. And she knew I would.”

“But why?” Her fine dark eyebrows drew together. “Are you looking for a place to put all that prize money?”

Definitely, something was wrong. He remembered how furious Toni used to get when he did something like steal the hockey puck from her during a scrimmage on frozen Trumpeter Lake. She’d been plenty fast and strong, but since he and Tristan were three years older, they always had an edge.

Was this the same thing? Had he swooped in and stolen the metaphorical hockey puck from her?

He leveled a glance at her over his mug of ale. “Come on, Toni. What’s up? Why are you mad about this?”

She finally met his eyes, hers flaring with green sparks. “I’m not mad. Why do you think I’m mad?”

She was definitely mad. He lifted one eyebrow.

“Okay. You could have warned me. Us,” she added quickly. “Lost Harbor in general. I’m sure some people will be happy to see you. Like Tristan.”

Meaning…not her. That was weird. He’d always gotten along well with Tristan’s tagalong little sister. Sure, there had been that one time, a couple weeks before he left, when he’d blown up at her. But that was because she’d taken a ridiculous risk for a dumb prank.

A customer signaled her for a drink and she hurried away to take his order. But he could tell by the set of her shoulders that she was still focused on him and their conversation.

As he sipped his ale, he surveyed the eclectic collection of locals and tourists who populated his new investment. The Olde Salt had always been a hardcore fishermen’s hangout—the first place a crew returning from a fishing trip stopped. Sometimes, half of their payout would be gone in that first night. Buying a round for the entire bar was a tradition.

In fact, there used to be a bell that hung over the bar. If you rang it, that meant everyone in the place got a free drink—on you.

The bell was gone now, because Toni had staged a protest and convinced Sally to remove it. She was concerned for the young fishermen who blew all their money on liquor and never saved up.

Sally had told Bash about it, with a mixture of irritation and pride. “Gotta warn you, Toni will be a pain in your backside. But she’s worth it. Best to get her to stick around if you can.”

The way things were going, that might be harder than he’d imagined.

“Hellllo, handsome stranger,” a woman said in his ear. He startled and looked around to meet the bright smile of a woman whose black hair was piled on top of her head like a cinnamon roll.

“Handsome” seemed like the wrong word, considering his broken nose and the scar that slashed through his left eyebrow. But he’d take it.

“Hello, beautiful,” he told her. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“How dare you. Okay, fine.”

He signaled to Toni, who was suddenly looking his direction again.

“You know I’ve been waiting years for this moment?” he told the woman.

She blinked at him, revealing sparkly blue eye shadow. “You have?”

“Ever since you tore up the Valentine I sent you in eighth grade and then stomped on the pieces.”

Her eyes slowly widened as recognition dawned. “No way. Bash Rivers?”

He grinned broadly. “Trixie Tran.”

She flung her arms around him. “Bash Rivers. Oh my goddess, it really is you. You know perfectly well I only trashed your Valentine because I was mad at you because you didn’t invite me to the eighth grade dance.”

“How was I supposed to know that? I was an i***t boy.”

She drew back and plopped onto the stool next to him. “You’re not a boy anymore. Still an i***t?” A saucy wink came with her question.

“Most likely.”

Most definitely. Why else would he have bought this damn place?

Well, because he owed Sally Buchanan. She’d taken care of him—mostly under the radar—when his family imploded. If she needed him to take an old saloon off her hands so she could have a new life, so be it.

Toni left her other customers and came to take their orders. Once again, he was struck by how graceful she was. Lithe and supple in her movements. She’d always loved swimming more than anyone he knew. Maybe that was her secret. He imagined her in a wet suit and got a little hot under the collar.

No. No no no. Toni was practically his little sister.

“Hey, Trix. How’s business?” she asked his new drinking buddy.

“Still slow. I don’t know why I bother opening in May. Who wants ice cream when it barely gets above fifty?” She turned to Bash. “Toni is my best customer, actually. Too bad I never charge her.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “How does a person get that deal?”

“A person trades drinks for ice cream cones,” Trixie explained. “I suppose other trades can be considered. For old times’ sake.” She gave him an exaggerated, goofy wink.

He turned to Toni. “You trade drinks for ice cream?”

Toni’s face flushed, but she lifted her chin in a way that brought back lots of memories of childhood mischief. “Got a problem with that?”

“Not yet.”

“Meaning you will as soon as you sign those papers?”

“Papers? What papers? What’s going on here?” Trixie looked back and forth from Toni to Bash as if she was watching a tennis match.

Toni held Bash’s gaze. “Haven’t you heard? Bash is buying the Olde Salt.”

“What?” Trixie climbed onto her knees on the stool and clanged her wine glass against one of the ship’s lanterns. “Listen up, losers!”

Bash met Toni’s eyes and saw his own “uh-oh” reflected in hers. He hadn’t even signed the contract yet. This was Lost Harbor’s infamous grapevine on steroids. And it was Toni’s fault. He hadn’t spilled the beans; she had.

Toni got it right away.

“Trixie!” Toni grabbed onto Trixie’s pink polka-dot skirt and hissed at her. “Keep your damn mouth shut or you’ll never drink here again.”

Trixie’s mouth snapped shut. She glanced down at Toni, obviously testing her seriousness. Toni glared back, then made the “I’m watching you” gesture, pointing two fingers from her own eyes to Trixie’s.

No one around here messed with Toni. That much was clear.

Honestly, it was pretty hot.

Everyone in the Olde Salt was now staring at Trixie, still poised with her wine glass about to clink the hanging lantern.

“Spit it out!” yelled one of the fishermen.

“‘Sup, Trix?” asked Ralphie Reed.

Bash held his breath. He sensed Toni’s tension as she waited to see what Trixie would do.

“That’s it.” Trixie shrugged. “Just wanted to watch a bunch of losers listen up.”

To the sound of boos, she climbed back down to the normal stool-sitting position. She drained her glass. “Can I get a damn refill?” she grumbled. “Honestly, Toni, you didn’t say anything about it being a big secret.”

Toni snatched her glass and disappeared with it.

“It’s not official yet,” Bash told her. “Toni shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Yeah well, she was probably mad.” Trixie rested her elbow on the bar and surveyed him with a curious expression.

“She does seem a little mad about it. Not sure why. Got any ideas?”

Trixie mused on it for a moment. “She’s used to running this place and she probably doesn’t like the idea of having a boss. Sally’s hardly ever here.”

“I’m not sure how much I’ll be here either.” He hadn’t made any final decisions about his UFC career,. He was ready for something new, but was the Olde Salt Saloon the answer or just an exit ramp, as Sally had called it?

“Did you say you might not be around much?” Toni reappeared with another full glass of burgundy for Trixie. “Why didn’t you mention that before?”

Bash shrugged. “I need to check out my new investment first.”

She lifted her chin high. “And? What do you think, oh lord and master? Does our humble establishment meet with your approval?”

And…there was that Del Rey sarcasm he remembered.

“Maybe.” He glanced around the place. “It could probably use some extra attention.”

“Excuse me?” Toni demanded.

And…she was just as fun to tease as ever.

“Oooh.” Trixie whistled in warning. “I think that’s my cue to get back to my ice cream scooping. Stop in any time, Bash. I’ll treat you to my special. Midnight Delight.” She gave him a sassy wink, then sauntered away.

With the words “midnight delight” hanging between them, Bash met Toni’s fiery gaze. And then something unexpected happened.

His c**k tightened.

Oh damn. He had no business finding Tristan’s little sister so attractive.

He cleared his throat. “Midnight delight, huh? Remember those hot fudge sundaes we used to love?”

“Don’t change the subject,” she said sternly. “What’s your plan? Are you going to stay and muck things up or get back to your superstar life?”

“Why do you think I’d muck things up?”

“Didn’t you spend half your childhood getting me into trouble?”

“I thought I spent it getting you out of trouble.”

They both laughed, and damn, it felt good to be here with her. Spunky tomboy Toni. All that fun spirit she’d always had, with a s****l punch thrown in. Wow.

“I think I’d be a pretty good boss. I’ve been taking business classes the last couple years. Maybe you should give me a chance.”

She c****d her head at him. With her all-black outfit—black sneakers, skinny black jeans, clinging black ribbed top, with a bar towel tucked in her waistband, she looked like a bartender ninja. “I don’t know. I like my bosses the way I like my teenage acne. Mostly gone.”

He snorted. “Good one. Okay, so what are you saying? You’re leaving?”

“Haven’t decided yet.”

“You want a raise? You got it.”

“I don’t need a raise. I mean, I’ll take it. Maybe. If I stay.” She seemed almost flustered as she wiped her hands on the bar towel.

“Okay. Well.” He gave up on trying to figure out what was going on with Toni Del Rey. She used to like him okay, as far as he knew. Maybe she would again some day. “I hope you stay. Let me know. I’d better go find Sally.”

“She’s in the back office.” Toni waved her hand at a door in the shadowy far corner of the establishment. “You remember where it is, right?”

Of course he remembered. It was right next to the room with the old coal furnace where he used to sleep sometimes. Sally had put a cot in there for him. A safe haven from all the tumult at home.

He pulled out his billfold and plucked out a couple of twenties. “This should cover my bill, right? And Trixie’s?”

Toni nodded and scooped the bills off the counter. “Very generous. To yourself.”

“Not the owner yet,” he reminded her as he rose to his feet. “So where’s Tristan living? He’s my next stop, if he’s ready for visitors.”

Tristan was another reason he’d come back. He needed to check on his oldest and best friend.

Toni’s expression softened at the mention of her brother. “He’s okay for short visits. He’s back home now. Remember Nanny McBride’s old house? He bought that. You can usually find him there. I’m sure he’d love to see you. Actually...”

“What?”

“Well, he’s had a tough few weeks. I bet he could use some time with his best friend.”

“That’s what I’m here for. That and saving Sally Buchanan’s new marriage. I’m just a goddamn guardian angel.”

She smiled at him—a real, grateful, genuine smile—and it made him feel like a new man.

“See you soon, Ant.”

And boom, there went her smile. Gone at the sound of the childhood nickname she’d always hated. Why the hell had he let that come out of his mouth?

She gave him her back and stalked down the length of the bar toward a newly arrived fisherman. He watched her go, his gaze dropping to the cute round ass under her tight black jeans.

He cursed softly as he pushed away from the bar and headed toward the door to the back office. Sally had warned him. A pain in your backside.

She hadn’t mentioned that Toni would be causing him other discomfort as well. The more s****l kind.