Serendipity by Casie Williams (mind reading books txt) 📗

I went back to the tables a few times over the course of the evening, picking up empty beer mugs and seeing if anyone needed refills. Meanwhile the few regulars at the bar slowly left, leaving Dale at his seat still smoking and watching another sports commentary and the soldiers with the coeds chatting away.

Every time I went by, Colin would smile or grin and ask me a random question or make some comment. And every time I answered politely and referred back to his ‘friend’, asking or saying something about her.

“Thanks, how’s your date goin’?” “So how do you two know each other?” Anything to let him know I wasn’t interested in being one of his first conquests at the base.

Finally, Colin came up to the bar and leaned with crossed arms on the bartop. He started saying something, but by this time I was tired of watching him flirt with the coed and me simultaneously. Plus, I was so ready for my shift to be done.

“Look, I’ve tried to be nice, but you don’t seem to be getting the hint,” I said finally, frustration leaking into my tone.

Confusion swept his face. I grabbed the soda gun and pressed the water button, spraying him. That’s when Dale took notice and came over.

“Everythin’ ok, Jo?” His undeniably-protective stance made Colin back away, shaking out his hands.

“It’s ok, honest mistake.”

“Hey, why don’t you knock off early? I can close up. It’s last call anyways. Serious, hun, head out.” He always called me hun. He was way more than a boss; he was like an older brother, always making sure I was good and taken care of. He was my only family.

I took him up on the offer and headed home to forget the whole night.

*********

Weeks passed and I had all but forgotten that night, though Dale sometimes gave me a wink when I was using the soda gun. I usually just rolled my eyes or elbowed him as I walked past. He was a big brother pickin’ on his little sister. A basic pain in the arse at my expense.

It was a typical Friday night—regulars socializing, jukebox playing, the sound of pool balls clinking and conversations rising in volume the later it got and the more drinks were consumed. By ten, it appeared we would have another weekend without soldiers. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Without warning, a group of fifteen to twenty already rowdy—not drunk—guys came bursting through the doors. Their haircuts gave them away: soldiers out for a night of fun and letting loose.

“JO!” several yelled in unison.

“Hey fellas, been awhile. Kinda missed ya,” I answered, smiling as I put the glasses and pitchers of water I had grabbed when they came in and watching as they pushed together five tables.

“Where ya been?” I asked no one in particular.

A guy answered, “Training for what seems like ever.” His smile caught me off guard; my mind did a mental stumble. I recognized him, but I hadn’t remembered his smile being so charming.

Regaining my faculties, I said, “Alrighty guys, most of you know the house rules, but I do see a few new faces.” I stared right at my mystery guy. “Hand over the keys and you’ve already got your water. What are we startin’ the night off with? Shots or beer?”

As the guys went searching for their car keys, they animatedly discussed what they would order first. I walked around with the key bucket collecting keys and smiling the whole time. These guys tended to crack me up with their banter. Honestly, I knew how it would play out. Some would say shots, some would say beer and I would suggest my usual.

“What do ya think guys? Beer or shots first?” one guy asked with a goofy side grin. I called it; some wanted shots, some couldn’t decide, and others wanted beer. So naturally I offered my suggestion.

“How about I start y’all with a round of what’s on tap? Unless you want buckets.”

The guys exchanged looks and turned to me all smiles. “Works for us, Jo. Draft it is!”

“Not a problem, but as always, I gotta see IDs fellas,” I added, smiling and winking as the guys half-heartedly groaned and reached for their IDs. I checked my mystery guy’s ID last, Colin Dawson. Unlike the rest, he made sure to hand me his ID while looking me in the eye. When I handed it back, our hands briefly touched, and something sparked between us. I tried to give him a goofy girly smile in response to the spark.

What had begun as a slow night quickly did a 180 with me doing laps around the bar. Dale was handling the patrons and regulars at the bar, leaving me to take care of the soldiers. In the first hour or so, I must have served two or three rounds of draft, refilled the waters twice, and brought a round of shots. Those boys had me running.

By last call, only the soldiers were left. Most were ready to call it, so Dale was making the cab calls while the guys settled their respective tabs. I thought they had all left when I popped my quarter in and selected Bon Jovi’s “Bed of Roses”. I looked around and saw Colin walking over to the bar with some beer mugs.

Smiling, I grabbed some as well and met him at the bar. “You don’t have to do that. Go, head back to the barracks. I got this.”

“I wanted to stay. This gave me a reason. See, I’ve been thinking about that night a few weeks back, and have been wondering why you sprayed me.” Though he was smiling, there seemed to be a hint of concern, even utter dumbfoundment at not getting me in the sack that night. Who knows.

“To be honest, after working all night