Husband Skills by Cassie Mint EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Cassie Mint
- Language: English
- Genre: Two-Hour Romance Short Reads
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Dani
It’s amazing how different a bar feels once all the crowds are gone. Only
an hour ago, King’s was so packed I couldn’t hear myself think. The
thump of dozens of boots against the floorboards rattled through my bones,
and the air was thick with sweat, booze and summer heat. Country music
wailed from the speakers up high on the rafters, interrupted now and then
with heavier rock classics. Everyone shouted to be heard.
Now, you could hear a pin drop. If a moth flapped through here, attracted
by the lights, its tiny little wings would stir up a breeze.
It’s just me, the heavy silence, and my boss. Kingston Holt.
We’re locking up together, like every Saturday night. This quiet is more
oppressive than the earlier racket, somehow.
Charlene told me that when she locks up with Kingston on Tuesdays and
Thursdays, she keeps the music on and sings and dances around the tables as
she cleans. Don’t know how she could ever be so bold with our surly boss,
but the thought of her dancing just for him makes my insides go all scrunchy.
Does he roll his eyes at her?
Or does he like it?
Ugh. How did she get so brave?
If I ever tried something like that… well, I can’t even imagine it. Can’t
imagine breaking the routine the boss and I have settled into over the last six
months since I started working here. It’s always the same, every week
without fail.
First, Kingston spreads out his bookkeeping stuff on top of the bar, right
at the end where I make sure to wipe down first. Then he pores over the
numbers for the night, forehead creased as he works, the golden light from
the lamp above him bringing out the deep tan on his forearms.
His shoulders strain against his black button-down shirt—rolled to the
elbows, like always—and his dark hair gets messier as the night goes on, his
hands tugging on it absentmindedly.
Now and then, his pencil stops scratching, and my mouth goes dry.
Because I know that if I look up from whatever I’m doing—loading and
unloading the dishwasher for the millionth time, probably, or scrubbing down
tables, or mopping the floors—he’ll be watching me with those coal pit eyes.
Staring. Assessing.
Measuring me up like a bug to be pinned to a cork board.
Goosebumps prickle over my bare arms, but I keep scrubbing in silence,
pretending I don’t feel his eyes on me.
This here’s why my Mama was so set against me tending bar at King’s.
She’s a die hard fusspot, it’s true, but this time there was a kernel of truth in
all her flapping.
“That man is dangerous, Danielle,” she hissed at me, over and over, but I
took the job anyway, even knowing what I know. What everyone knows.
Kingston Holt is not to be trifled with.
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