“Surprise me. Make me whatever you want. How’s that?”
“What are you doing here?” I leaned on the bar, eyeing him up, my attitude covered in a fresh coat of badass. In reality, I wanted to crawl into his sweatshirt and go somewhere quiet with him.
“Me?” He pointed at himself with his thumb. “Getting an adult beverage.”
“Aren’t there like twelve-point-two bars and restaurants per block up where you live?”
“Twelve point four, but who’s counting?”
I grabbed a shaker and mixed a surprise for Price, sticking a cherry in the finished concoction.
“Mmm.” After taking a sip, he licked his lips, raising an eyebrow in question.
“Sex on the Beach.”
“Perfect. Not my kind of drink, but definitely would be my kind of sex ... I’m guessing on that, by the way.”
“Guessing?”
He blinked, his eyelids closing over his blue eyes for a second. “Never been to the beach.”
“Never?”
“Never. Nope.”
“The other night when I was telling you how I’m from a beach town, you didn’t say a thing,” I said.
“I didn’t want to spoil your story. You looked so happy talking about home.”
Christ, he was right. I was so happy thinking about home.
“Hey, want to take care of some other customers,” some prick yelled.
“Wanna take me to the beach?” Price asked before he knocked back the remainder of his drink.
“I have to go help them.” I tilted my head down the bar.
Waving his empty glass at me, he said, “Then come back, because I don’t have a drink anymore.”
I poured a couple of brews, mixed a margarita for some girl with a permanent scowl and a bad nose job, before snagging a bottle of beer and placing it in front of Price.
“Heineken. I’ll make do.” He took a sip with me watching the liquid roll down his throat. “Eyes up here,” he said, and my cheeks burned.
“So, tell me, what are you doing back here tonight?” I shoved a flyway hair behind my ear and grabbed my water.
“Wanted to see you.”
“No funny pickup line or made-up excuse?”
He shook his head. “Not my style. At the risk of you laughing, I’m still going to ask. Want to come over my way this weekend? Eat, and then walk through the park?”
Of course, he didn’t work two jobs to make ends meet, but his life circumstances weren’t his fault. “Um, I work Saturday lunch.”
“No prob. Sunday?”
I nodded, tongue-twisted, words lost to me. Was he for real?
“Great, it’s a date,” he said, smacking the bar. He threw down a fifty and tossed me a peace sign.
