“What are you having?” she responded.
“A glass of Tempranillo.”
She showed no sign of familiarity.
“Do you like red wine?”
“No, not unless it’s really sweet.”
“Then you probably won’t like it,” he said, again recognizing too late that he probably sounded like an ass. “What do you usually drink?”
She tilted her head to the side, considering.
“I’d like a Midori sour,” she said, her announcement not even delivered like a confession.
He couldn’t help but snort. “I’m not ordering that. Come up to the bar with me if you want something that’s mostly food coloring.”
A flicker of anger like summer lightning worked through those luminous sea-glass-green eyes.
“What’s wrong with it?” she asked flatly.
“Try something off the drink list instead,” he said, pushing the cocktail menu across the table to her. If she was hiring him because she wanted more sophistication in her life, she could start by drinking something not marketed chiefly to Jell-O shot enthusiasts.
Caroline took the menu, scanned it briefly, then put it back down.
“I don’t know what any of this stuff is,” she said. She crossed her arms, which he recalled as a sign that a datewas not going well. She stared hard at the menu. “How about a fuzzy navel? Do they make that here?”
She had to be screwing with him. He hadn’t ordered something like that since throwing out his fake ID. Nobody drank that crap after they turned—
Adrian sat back in his chair, eyes widening.
“How old are you?”
“What does that matter?” she asked, chin thrust out pugnaciously.
The hot sweep of embarrassment traversed his entire face before continuing its trek down his neck and across his chest. Of course it mattered.Adrian suppressed the urge to swivel and see if anyone was looking at him arguing with his age-inappropriate date. And then something even worse occurred to him.
“Let me see your ID,” he blurted out, horrified by the thought that perhaps she was not even eighteen. What did high school girls look like, anyway? He hadn’t paid any attention to themsincehigh school. Maybe she was even younger than she looked, and she looked alotyounger than him.
“No,” Caroline said, her own face beginning to pinken to match his own. “I’m twenty-two.”
“I’m not taking that for granted,” Adrian gritted out. “Or committing any felonies.” God, he was going to kill Tom for ever suggesting this plan.
She managed a weak sneer. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’mnotgoing to have sex with you.”
Caroline made that last pronouncement in a voice that crossed the room. Now Adrian was certain that other people were staring at him and the young woman who didn’t want to sleep with him.
Hello, good evening, friends, I will not be getting laid tonight.He probably looked like he was trying to coerce her into it, though he’d come to this bar dreading the idea.
He took an agitated breath and gathered himself. He ought to be relieved. He didn’t want to do sex work, even for beautiful women who were inexplicably angry at him, which increasing evidence showed to be his exclusive type.
“Do you want me to leave, then?” he offered.
Caroline hesitated, obviously thinking about being the first one to walk. Her lower lip curled inward, but she ultimately opted to fish for her wallet, cursing not quite under her breath. She tossed a driver’s license across the table at him. He fumbled and nearly dropped it. When he got it under control, he had to lean close to read it, because it was dark in the lounge.
His mental math told him she hadn’t lied about her age. That was more reassuring than it ought to have been, considering their relationship was going to be a clothed one. The driver’s license was out of state, listing an address in Templeton, Texas, wherever that was. But of course this whole ridiculous setup was on account of her being new in town.
He handed it back to her, and she shoved it loosely into her purse.
