Blog Post 10/7
Read on for the first half of the first chapter of Johnnie and June:
Milo was a lucky man, and he knew it. When Lillie King hired him to work at her bar, he’d known nothing but the life of a gang member. The Bandidos weren’t as bad as they could have been, being in such a small town, but they were petty criminals. Lillie had seen something in him, and she and her mom had befriended him. They’d given him a new start in life, and he would never take it for granted.
When he’d come up with the idea of a bartending school, he didn’t really think Lillie would go for it. He didn’t know as much as she did, and the idea was to give her more time to spend with her family. He decided to watch videos online of all the neat tricks and different kinds of mixed drinks he could learn to make and then pass the knowledge on to others. With Lillie’s blessing, he’d waited an entire year after pitching the idea to start advertising. He’d used his own money to put ads in the local paper and surrounding areas. He created social media accounts for Carter’s Bar and then talked about the upcoming bartending school until he got a few interested people. He wasn’t charging a whole lot—he barely felt he knew what he was doing, after all—but with three people signed up, he decided to go ahead with it.
Which led him to the point he was at now. Frustrated, losing his patience, and about to call the whole thing off.
Milo was aware that he was a quick learner, so he’d factored in extra time for the others. They practiced at the bar during the morning so they’d be alone, but they were making a giant mess. He’d already resolved that they’d have to clean up after themselves; there was only so much he was willing to do.
“No, Cooper, like this.” Milo tried his best to speak in a measured tone and not lose his cool.
“Oh, I’m holding the bottle wrong.”
Cooper tried it again and Milo finally breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, that’s the way.”
They were going to learn to throw and catch bottles if it killed him. It looked good behind the bar, and the ladies that used to run it weren’t around as much anymore. Milo knew they needed a way to draw in out-of-towners to keep them successful.
“Okay, Nora, you’re next.”
She was better than the other two at pouring and mixing, but her reflexes made it nearly impossible to catch what she threw.
He groaned as another bottle hit the floor. “I think we’re going to call it a day. Clean up and be here before we open.”
He grabbed his leather jacket off the hook by the door and strode out to his bike. It was the only thing he’d really kept from the old part of himself, and it relaxed him to fly down the backroads of the tiny town he lived in. Abbott, Texas was not much more than a dot on a map to anyone that didn’t live there. To Milo, it was home.
He spent a few hours out on the bike before going home to shower and eat. By the time he made it back to the bar, he’d regained his composure and a generous store of patience.
They had a good night; Cooper, Nora, and Ryder were getting better at bartending. The showmanship would come in time. He focused on backing them up and keeping the customers happy if they got bogged down.
So he could be forgiven if he didn’t notice the gorgeous woman nursing a draft right away. He noticed her in plenty of time, after all. He headed over to her booth to see if he could get her a fresh pint.
“Hi, there. Can I get you a refill?” It felt like a line as soon as it was out of his mouth.
She looked down at her mostly full glass. “I’ve got plenty, thanks.”
Milo almost shifted his feet like a schoolboy. “You be sure to let me know if you need anything, okay?”
“Sure,” she responded, but she wasn’t looking at him.
Resigned, he went back behind the bar. The woman was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Full lips, square jaw, and dark hair that glowed red from the bar lights. One thing Milo had learned since he began working at the bar a few years ago, was the ones sitting alone barely drinking were working through their problems.
When it came time for last call, she hadn’t moved from her spot. Milo and the others cleaned up behind the bar, cashed out the last customers, and finally, he had no choice but to go over to her again.
“Hey, sorry, it’s time for us to close.”
Instead of responding, she reached in her pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. She dropped it on the table and rose.
Milo watched in helpless fascination as she walked out of the bar. Nothing you can do, he reminded himself.
He sent Nora, Cooper, and Ryder home while he counted down the drawer from the register and settled the tabs for the night. When he was satisfied that everything was clean and put back to order, he stepped out the back door and locked it up behind him.
“I have a room at the B&B,” a voice said from behind him.
He whirled, his heart in his throat. Not because he was afraid that somebody was there to rob him, but because he recognized what she was asking of him.
“I live in town,” he countered.
“Too personal. You coming, or what?”
Or what? What would happen if he went with her? He’d been with exactly two women in his lifetime, and both of them were the house mouse type from the MC.
Her brow was raised in expectation, her face shadowed by the lone light that shined behind her. He felt an inexplicable pull toward her.
“I’m not waiting all night. Yes or no?”
“Yes,” he found himself saying.
She turned and walked off; he left his motorcycle behind the bar and followed a few paces behind. He didn’t know why he thought this was a good idea.
She had a long stride that ate up the asphalt in western boots. Her legs were encased in jeans and she, too, wore a leather jacket. It was spring, so the nights were cool while the days were nearly stifling.
She walked up to the front entrance of the B&B and used a key to get in. Milo had never had a reason to be in the one and only hotel in Abbott, but he found it to be cozy, if not a little outdated.
She waited until he’d come in behind her before locking the door and leaving the key in a dish on the hall table. He went along behind her as she climbed the stairs, his breathing quickening at what was to come.
She let him into her room and stripped off her jacket, throwing it over the slat-backed chair pushed up to a desk. “Drink?”
He nodded, watching her pull a handful of liquor bottles from one of the dresser drawers. At his wide eyes, she explained.
“I couldn’t decide what I wanted. I have tequila, rum, and whisky.”
“What kind of whisky?”
She looked at the bottle in her hand. “Johnnie Walker Red.”
He grinned. “My favorite.”
She hummed while she pulled two plastic glasses from a sleeve. “Can I call you Johnnie, then?”
He mulled that over. It seemed she didn’t want to use real names. “Okay. What am I going to call you?”
She stood in front of him and handed over the cup. “I have an affinity for old country music.”
He frowned. “You want me to call you Dolly?”
She chuckled and took a sip. “No, June.”
He racked his brain for a singer named June, then it dawned on him. “Ah, because I’m Johnnie, so you’re June.”
She shrugged. “Why not?”
Yeah, why not? He was already doing new things with his life.
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