Brooklyn (Corked and Tapped Book 3)

  Brooklyn

  Corked and Tapped, Book Three

  Becca Jameson

  Copyright © 2019 by Becca Jameson

  Cover Artist: Julio Desir, Jr.

  Editor: Christa Soule

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. And resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  About the Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Author’s Note

  Also by Becca Jameson

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  I have to thank my amazing, wonderful, fabulous beta reader most extraordinaire, Susan Whitney, for all her help reading these fun novellas and helping me every step of the way!

  I also want to thank my editor, Christa, for plotting with me on every one! She rocks!

  And my daughter, Rebecca, who read each one over her summer break!

  About the Book

  “I am officially divorced.” She had never been so elated as she slapped the final papers on the bar and slid onto the stool. Did the bartender’s eyebrows lift higher than usual? She hoped so, because she’d been waiting a year to make her move on him. From the look on his face, she wasn’t the only one who’d been waiting.

  Corked and Tapped: Because the best stories never start with someone eating a salad.

  Chapter 1

  Brooklyn slid onto the stool at the end of the counter and slapped a manila envelope onto the bar.

  “Is that it?” Owen, her favorite bartender at Corked and Tapped, asked as he leaned over the bar on his elbows.

  “Yep. Signed and sealed. I am officially divorced.” Her hands were shaking, but she felt like a weight had been lifted. She knew she was grinning.

  “Big day.” Owen smiled back at her as he reached across the bar and set a hand on top of hers over the envelope. He gave her a reassuring squeeze.

  She wondered if he had any idea how much that meant to her, both in terms of moral support and physical contact. She stared for a moment at their connection, admiring the contrast of his dark skin against her pale hand.

  God had given her strawberry-blond hair, freckles on her nose, and skin that burned at the suggestion of going outdoors. On the flip side, those same genetics kept her very young. At thirty, she knew she still barely passed for twenty-one. Corked and Tapped was one of the few bars in town that didn’t card her, and that was only because she came there often enough that everyone knew her.

  Brooklyn lifted her gaze to Owen, her body lighting up more than he could possibly know at how close he was standing next to her. “Yeah.”

  “Even though your husband was a jackass, I know it still hurts. I’m sure you had a rough day. What can I get you?”

  “I’ll stick with my usual. Chardonnay. If I go any harder, I’m afraid I’ll end up flat on my face later,” she joked.

  Owen gave her hand one last squeeze and shoved back to grab her a glass and pour her wine. He set it in front of her and winked. “Your drinks are on the house tonight.”

  She sat taller and lifted the glass for a fortifying sip. She never had more than one drink. Anything more made her feel tipsy.

  Owen was buying her a drink? Interesting. He was still smiling at her too.

  Plus, her hand was still warm from the contact he’d made. Owen Severs had not only squeezed her hand, he’d held it for a long time. Several seconds. Far longer than the average person would touch another in order to soothe them platonically. Right?

  In the year she’d been coming here, Owen had never spoken a single word to indicate he was interested in her. He’d never asked her out. He’d never flirted with her. He’d never touched her.

  Until now.

  The truth was that it had been a long time since anyone touched her intimately. She recognized she was probably making more out of the contact than he’d intended. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that she felt the connection and liked it.

  She took another sip of her wine and set it on the bar, spinning it around absentmindedly while Owen served several other people up and down the jam-packed bar.

  Jade, one of the waitresses, squeezed in next to Brooklyn and called out a long list of orders from the tables.

  Anyone watching Owen wouldn’t be able to discern if he’d actually heard the waitress, but he gave a subtle nod as she finished and continued down the row, filling several more orders before taking a few long strides to return to Brooklyn’s end of the bar.

  Without questioning Jade, he rapidly grabbed several different beers, poured two glasses of wine, mixed a fruity concoction, and added the perfect shot of Jim Beam to a rocks glass.

  All of this he set on her tray before lifting his gaze to Brooklyn again.

  “I’ll never understand how you do that,” she commented.

  “Do what?” He smirked. “Fill nine orders for Jade?” He chuckled as he reached above her head to grab a martini glass and proceeded to make a drink she hadn’t heard the order for.

  He glanced at Brooklyn with his signature half grin. “Don’t even talk to me about remembering drink orders. You had twenty-nine first names, last names, and nicknames memorized before lunch on the first day of school. I bet you know each of their allergies, learning disabilities, and which of their hands is dominant too.”

  She chuckled and shrugged. “It’s my job.”

  “Well, this is mine.” He set the martini down in front of a man several seats away from Brooklyn, pulled the Chardonnay from the fridge under the bar, and topped off Brooklyn’s glass even though she’d only had two sips from it.

  She watched his arm as he poured, admiring his thick hair, groomed beard, and the tattoo sleeve that swirled around his forearm. It extended up under his short-sleeved, black T-shirt with the Corked and Tapped logo. She had never seen the rest of his tattoo, nor did she have any idea how many he had, but she had spent the better part of the last year wishing she could.

  Too bad her flirting game was pretty rusty; Owen probably had no idea she was attracted to him. Besides, she couldn’t be sure he would care. Just because he was nice to her didn’t mean he wanted to sleep with her. After all, he was nice to everyone who came into Corked and Tapped. Tips would suck otherwise.

  When she lifted her gaze to his, she found him smirking again. And she got bold. Today was the first day of the rest of her life. It was time to put herself out there. “When are you going to show me the rest of your tat?”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the old-fashioned clock hanging above the bar and turned back to her. “Mike frowns on naked chests behind the bar, but I’m taking a break in about half an hour,” he responded, shocking her speechless.

  Owen laughed as he turned away from her and moved down to the other end of the bar.

  Holy shit. Was he serious? Could she be so lucky?

  She squirmed in her seat, watching his profile as he worked, wondering if there was any chance he was serious. She couldn’t be sure, but her hand was still shaking as she lifted her wine glass and took another sip.

  Please, God, tell me he’s not kidding.

  The muscles on his biceps bulge
d as he worked. She had spent dozens of nights imagining those arms wrapped around her, holding her tight. She closed her eyes and pictured his lips on her neck, his breath sending a chill down her spine.

  She shuddered, gripping her glass tighter so she wouldn’t spill it.

  She really needed to get laid. Wouldn’t it be awesome if it could be with him? He was the polar opposite of anyone she’d ever been with, including her now ex-husband. His demeanor screamed confidence. After a year of watching him, she was nearly crazy with lust.

  “You okay?” Owen’s extremely close deep voice interrupted her daydream.

  She jerked her eyes open to find him staring at her, eyes narrowed in concern. “Yes. Fine.” She took another sip of wine. The man had caught her fantasizing about him. Geez.

  “You’re flushed. You sure you’re okay about the divorce? No one would blame you if you felt some level of sadness.”

  She sat up straighter and smoothed her hands down the front of her dress. “God, no. I’m relieved. It took forever. I wasn’t sure I would ever be free of that man.”

  Owen busied himself preparing several drinks right in front of her without missing a beat while he spoke. He truly did have an amazing, multitasking mind. “He dragged you through the coals. If I’d ever met him, I would have beaten him to a pulp.”

  She flinched at his words. They should have made her nervous. She didn’t ordinarily have a malicious bone in her body. She’d never hit anyone in her life. She’d never even witnessed a bar fight at Corked and Tapped. Not surprising considering the size of the two intimidating bouncers standing near the entrance.

  Owen’s brow was furrowed. He was legitimately furious with her ex. And she was legitimately turned on by his reaction. “My hero,” she accidentally murmured out loud.

  His hearing was incredible, apparently, because he shot her a glance as he stuck an olive in the glass in front of him. “You need better friends if I’m the only man who’s felt a bit of rage toward that guy.”

  Brooklyn winced as Owen turned and headed to the other end of the bar again. He was right. She did need better friends. Hell, she didn’t have many at all. At least not true friends. Not lately. Except for the occasional evening spent at the movies or dinner with a few other teachers from her school, she rarely went out.

  For the most part, she was embarrassed and didn’t want her coworkers to know what her husband had been like or that she’d left him. She had never brought him to functions when they’d been married because she couldn’t trust him not to drink too much and hit on the other teachers.

  She had been married to Ed for three years, and he’d cheated on her repeatedly before she finally put on her big-girl panties and left him. That had been eighteen months ago. The longest eighteen months of her life while Ed attempted to blame her for his indiscretions and tried to extort alimony from her.

  She rubbed her temples as she reminded herself of the hell she’d been through. It hadn’t started out that way. In the early days, and even years, life had been perfect. Or so she’d thought.

  She’d met Ed during her third year teaching. He’d been a contractor who came to her classroom about six different times while working on the room adjacent to hers.

  In retrospect, she suspected he took his time getting the job done because he was flirting with her. It worked too. She fell hard. When he was finally finished, he wrote his number on a sticky note on her desk and left without a word.

  She spent about three restless days working up the courage to text him, and when she finally did, he began the process of wining and dining her. It was a dream come true. Until it wasn’t. She had no idea when he started cheating. Perhaps he’d done so throughout their entire relationship. She really never wanted to know because it hurt too badly.

  When she first started smelling another woman’s perfume on him, he’d brushed her off, saying it had been a frisky client. But the signs piled up until she found him drunk and disheveled one night in the living room, having gotten home at about three in the morning. His shirt was on backward, and he had lipstick all over his face.

  That was the beginning of the end.

  Chapter 2

  “Brooklyn?”

  She jerked her gaze up from her wine to find Owen leaning toward her again. “You sure you’re okay?”

  She tipped her head down again, taking in her appearance. Even though she had started coming to this bar a year ago, she had never managed to loosen up and wear anything close to what other patrons wore. She knew she looked downright prissy, but she didn’t have any other clothes in her wardrobe. Maybe it was time to grow a spine and branch out.

  Tonight she was wearing the least conservative dress she owned, but that wasn’t saying much. It was black with horizontal white stripes. It wasn’t low cut or off-the-shoulder or anything, but it was fitted and stopped above the knee. She had on dainty black sandals. When she’d left the house, she’d felt sexy. At this moment, she felt like the first-grade teacher she was.

  In truth she was proper. At least she’d always been proper. She’d spent her entire life doing what everyone expected of her. She’d graduated with honors, gone to a good college, gotten her teaching degree, and married a “nice” man. Her family had been thrilled.

  So, it had been difficult to admit to her parents and siblings that she’d made a mistake. She had spent far too much time trying to fix things and smooth things over and keep her secrets hidden. Time that would have been better spent cutting her losses and moving on with her life because the truth was that although Ed had looked good on paper, he was actually shady. He lost more jobs than he kept, and it often fell completely on her shoulders to pay the bills most months.

  The first time she’d come to Corked and Tapped had been on a whim. She’d separated from Ed, gotten her own apartment, and was basically lonely. She hadn’t wanted to talk about her predicament with anyone at work or in her family. She’d been embarrassed and humiliated.

  Drinking had never been something she’d done in excess. And it still wasn’t. But that particular night she’d decided to go out. Alone. To get a drink and be surrounded by people. It didn’t matter that they were strangers. She actually preferred it that way. She found she enjoyed the noise over the silence in her apartment.

  That was the night she first met Owen. He’d been friendly. Attentive from the start. In her mind, he became a friend, someone she could confide in when she wasn’t willing to speak to anyone else about the things she’d gone through or how the divorce was proceeding.

  Maybe he was simply being kind. Maybe it was in his job description. Maybe he listened to two dozen other people and helped prop them up every night too. She didn’t care. What she cared about was that he listened to her. He provided an ear when she most needed it.

  There was just one problem however; she was attracted to him. Really attracted to him. He began to star in her dreams, both at night and in the day.

  She’d turned him into something larger than life. And tonight, he was paying attention to her in a different way. Tonight, he’d touched her. Tonight, he’d made the subtle suggestion she might see more of him. Namely, his chest.

  She sighed. What if she was making more out of his attention than really existed? She undoubtedly was. All she could do was wait for this promised break he had coming up and see what he actually did. Hell, she wasn’t asking for much. Just a hot night between the sheets with a man she’d been drooling over for a year. A night she hoped would boost her confidence, remind her she was worthy, and give her the strength to move on. She just hoped one night would be enough.

  “Brooklyn?” Owen coaxed, yanking her from her thoughts.

  She lifted her face. He’d asked her a question. “I’m great.” She patted the damn envelope, the one she’d carried around with her all day as if it would be more official if she had it in her hands.

  “Uh-huh.” Owen chuckled as he squatted down on the other side of the bar to remove something from the refrigerator. “I’ve k
nown you a long time,” he continued as he rose. “You’re the kindest person I know. No matter how badly you were treated, I also know you feel sad tonight. You’ve suffered a loss. It’s understandable.” He leaned over the bar, closer than he’d ever been, his face inches from hers. “It’s not your fault, you know.”

  She winced. “I know that.”

  “Do you?” He slid a beer to another patron and returned, his hands on the bar, his gaze locked on hers. “The man cheated. Repeatedly. Not because of something you did, but because he’s an asshole and he didn’t appreciate what he had.” He leaned in again. “And, let me remind you, he tried to make you pay him alimony off your teacher’s salary because he’s too lazy to work. That’s insane, Brooklyn.”

  She straightened her spine. “Well, he didn’t win. He got nothing. And it’s over. I’m free of him, for good.” Thank God she’d never gotten pregnant. She shuddered, imagining a life permanently tied to a horrible person who was the father of her kids.

  Owen smiled. “That’s the spirit. Now, relax. Enjoy yourself. Take a few breaths.” He shoved of the bar and wandered away, but as he moved, he looked back over his shoulder. “Fifteen more minutes and I’ll show you my tats.” His brows wiggled.

  She stopped breathing. Would he? She gripped the side of the bar to steady herself, thinking she’d like nothing more in the world than to see Owen’s tattoos.

  No, that wasn’t quite accurate. She also wanted to touch them. Hell, she wanted to lean into them.

  She was officially out of her mind with lust. Perhaps her problem was that she hadn’t had sex in almost two years. She hadn’t been on a date or kissed anyone either. It was time she broke that streak. Would Owen at least give her a taste of what her newfound freedom could be like?