She licks her lips, and my eyes greedily take in the sight.Jesus, I want this woman.
“Thanks, Santa,” she says, taking a sip of her drink.
I smile at her. “Is there anything else Santa can do for you, sweetheart?”A roll in the hay? Multiple orgasms, guaranteed?
She tucks a strand of hair behind an ear. “Um…”
Her phone rings, interrupting her. I curse under my breath as Mr. Jealousy rears his ugly head again.I want to throw that phone in the sink…
“Adam,” she breathes, relief evident in her voice. “I was starting to worry.”
I turn away from her, pretending to wash an already clean glass so that I can eavesdrop on the conversation. I should move to the other end of the bar to give her more privacy, but I can’t bring myself to put that much distance between us.What is wrong with me?
Adam dominates the conversation while the brunette unsuccessfully attempts to interject with mono-syllabic words. “But—oh—I—no—please.”
It’s obvious that Adam is giving her news she doesn’t want to hear. On the one hand, I hate that she’s upset. On the otherhand, I’m high-fiving the universe. She and Adam clearly aren’t a match made in heaven, and that means I have a chance.
A man with greasy hair and a goatee walks up to the bar, staring at me expectantly. As much as I’d rather listen to the woman’s conversation, I can’t ignore him. I take his order, hastily pouring the overpriced craft beer he requested. He throws a ten-dollar bill on the bar, leaving me mere pennies for a tip.Asshole.
“You can’t do this to me,” the brunette hisses into her phone. “You promised you’d be here. You’re my plus-one!”
She ends the call and releases an impressive stream of expletives that seems out of place coming from such a sweet mouth.
The greasy-haired man takes a gulp of his beer and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sounds like you just got dumped,” he says to her.
My defensive hackles go up immediately. As a bartender, I’m used to defending and protecting female patrons, and I’m pretty good at spotting the slimeballs.
She frowns at him but doesn’t respond. Her phone rings again, and she looks at it with such hope that my heart aches for her. I can practically read her thoughts. She’s hoping it’s Adam calling back to say, “Psyche! I was just kidding.”
Her face falls when she sees the caller’s name on the screen. With a deep sigh, she answers. “Hello, Mother… yes, I’ll be there tomorrow… my plus one?” Her face grows pink as the conversation continues. “Of course, he’ll be with me. Why wouldn’t he be? As a matter of fact, Adam and I are engaged!”
This time, when she ends the call, she buries her face in her hands and moans.
The slimeball with the beer sidles up next to her and pats her arm. She bristles, pulling away from him.
He doesn’t take the hint, brushing her skin with a fingertip. “It’ll be okay, sugar. How about I buy you another drink?”
Red hot fury temporarily blinds me, and I lean across the bar, shoving the man away from the brunette. “Leave the lady alone,” I snarl.
He staggers back a few feet, catching himself on the nearest table. “What’s your problem, man?”
A muscle in my jaw clenches. “Move to the other side of the bar or get the fuck out.”
“You can’t talk to me that way,” he splutters.
I raise a menacing fist. “Actually, I can.”
“I’d kick your ass,” he blusters, “but you’re not worth it.”
I keep my eyes on him as he walks to the restaurant’s exit. Then I turn to look at the brunette. Her attention is finally where I want it: onme.
She stares at me with wide eyes. “You own this pizzeria?”
“Nope, but the owner is a badass woman who has no love for assholes who make unwanted advances on her pretty patrons.” I smile kindly and extend my hand. “I’m Mitch, but you can call me Santa.”
She shakes my hand, and when our palms connect, the rest of the world fades away. I’m hyperaware of her, noticing the hitch in her breath and the way the hair stands up on her arms as if she’s been zapped by a bolt of electricity. So,I’m not the only one feeling sparks between us.
“I’m Allison,” she says. “About your question earlier…”
