Greer expected the classy woman to order a very dry chardonnay. Given his knowledge of wine, it was just the type of drink he pictured her ordering. You could have knocked him over with a feather when she hesitated and then ordered the aged whiskey.
The young bartender was as shocked as he was by her order because the guy chuckled and said, "Sorry, ma'am, but we don't carry that. How about a little Southern Comfort instead?"
"Southern Comfort?" Taylor mulled that over for a second. The irony was too sweet to be missed. With a small laugh, she said, "That sounds perfect. A little Southern Comfort is just what I need."
The young bartender flashed Taylor another cheesy grin and said, "Yes, ma'am! Southern Comfort coming right up." Then, he wandered off to fill her order.
Greer was stumped but enthralled. Southern Comfort? Really? He had no idea what the lady's game was. Was she a bored country club princess? Whatever her story was, she was a fish out of water in the Rat.
After a few minutes, the young bartender returned with the drink and placed it in front of Taylor, saying, "Here you go." He treated her to another one of his sexy grins, complete with a wink, and said, "You let me know if you NEED anything else."
The bartender's blatant flirting caught Taylor off guard. It had been so long since anyone had flirted with her that she had almost missed it. But how the guy had drawn out the word "need" undoubtedly got her attention. While it had been flattering, it had also been unnerving. The bartender was twenty-two, tops. Taylor suddenly realized there were limits to what she was willing to do. Robbing the cradle was not one of them.
Sitting down from her, listening to every word, Greer almost snorted when the young bartender had drawn out the word "need" for extra emphasis. He had waited, expecting the pretty lady to putthe kid in his place. Instead, she smiled at the guy, patted his bulging muscles, and said, "Oh, aren't you sweet. I am way too old for you. I appreciate it, though, but no, I'm good. Thanks."
That was it. No sharp reprimand? No sharp retort? Greer was stunned. He had no doubt that Christine would have crucified the guy on the spot.
Greer's next thought came in the form of a question. If the kid was too young for her, would he be too old? She didn't look a day over twenty-five, but she carried herself much older. And, since he knew the kid behind the bar was not that much younger, Greer figured she had to be at least in her early thirties.
He, himself, was holding onto his thirties by a string. He couldn't believe he would be forty by the end of the year. He was single, with no kids and no prospects. This was not how he had expected his life to go. He assumed by now that he would be married with at least two or three kids. His inability to recognize the things in life that mattered the most had cost him dearly. He promised himself that if he ever got a chance to have that life again, he would grab a hold and never let it go.
Since Christine, the closest he had come to a real relationship had been one-night stands with very pretty, very flexible, and very shallow women. Perhaps he should feel guilty about that, but he didn't. All the women he had spent time with knew the score. They had used him as much as he had used them.
Glancing at the gorgeous woman down from him, Greer wondered if she would be willing to be the next contestant on Who Wants to Play Doctor in My Bed Tonight. He doubted it. She looked way too classy for that, even with her low-cut dress, killer heels, and smoking-hot red lipstick.
While Greer was contemplating his odds of hooking up with her, Taylor was thinking about her ill-advised plan to hook up with a stranger at all. The longer she sat at the bar, the more she realizedthat she was totally out of her league here with her little plan. When she left the cottage earlier in the evening, determined to seduce the first good-looking guy she found, she hadn't expected it to be a young rebel without a clue bartender, who was barely legal. No, she wanted a much different type of man.
If she were being honest, she didn't have any particular man in mind. And she had no idea what to do next. She supposed she should wait for one of the many men in the bar to walk up and offer her a drink. However, most of the ones she had seen were not really her type. Call her an elitist snob, but teeth and clean hair were going to be a must.
If she had her way, a gorgeous man between thirty and forty would walk up and sweep her off her feet. He would carry her home and make mad, passionate love to her until she cried. Of course, in her fantasy, she could never quite figure out how one went about asking about past health history and if any STDs might be involved. She never had to have such a conversation but imagined it would put a damper on the passion.
Feeling her bravo leaking away, she considered giving up and returning to the cottage. But to do so was akin to admitting that she was the frigid, sexless woman that Bennett and Joules thought she was. Just thinking those thoughts reignited the fire that fueled her harebrained trip to this sketchy bar in the first place. Determined for them not to be right about her and vowing for things to be different, Taylor picked up the glass the bartender had set in front of her, raised it to her lips, and defiantly tossed back the amber liquid.
Fire immediately rained down the back of her throat and into her chest. For a moment or two, Taylor could not breathe. Coughing and sputtering, she had to hold onto the bar rail to steady herself. Whatever she was expecting, this was not it. Slowly, thefire seemed to burn out and was replaced by fuzzy warmth that spread through her entire body.
Wow! That nearly killed me, she thought. How do people drink this? Doing this unexpected business is way more difficult than she expected. She wanted to do something different, but she didn't want to die doing it. All of these thoughts were crashing through her head. Slowly, the alcohol began to work its magic, and her body began to relax. After a second, she called out, "One more please."
Taylor threw the second drink back with slightly more finesse than the first. This time, she didn't have a coughing fit or nearly fall out on the floor. No, the amber liquid went down a lot smoother.
It took a few minutes, but finally, Greer remembered how he knew her. He recognized her as the pretty mystery lady who had been his patient the week before. She was the one who had come in with a panic attack. As he watched her unnoticed, Greer contemplated whether or not trying to pick her up would be a conflict of interest. Ultimately, he comforted himself with the knowledge that she wasn't a patient anymore—so, no harm, no foul. After all, he was a heart doctor, and her heart was fine. The only reason he had even seen her was that he just happened to be in the ER trying to talk the very lovely nurse named Beth into dinner and drinks when she had been brought in, presenting elements of a heart attack. As head of the cardiac department, he attended her because he was there and could. But, no heart problems, no need for a heart doctor. So, there was no conflict of interest in him getting to know little Miss Panic Attack better.
Looking his fill of her, Greer thought, man alive, didn't she clean up nicely. The last time he had seen her, her hair had been a mess, and she had been wearing a bright pink sports bra and running shorts. Once he had deduced that she was not having a heart attack, she had almost given him one with that bright pink bra.
He was a doctor, a very good and professional doctor. But he was still a man. He was diligent around beautiful women like this one to ensure the lines of professionalism were never crossed. As long as a beautiful woman was his patient, he never saw them as any more than that. It was all business and body parts, science and medicine. But once that barrier was removed, it was like scales fell from his eyes.
He remembered it had happened that way with her. When she first came into the ER, he was totally focused on treating her and saw her only as a patient in need. That all changed once he realized she was just having a panic attack. She was worrying with the leads and wires for the EKG, and his eyes had been drawn to her chest. In a rush to put the leads on, the nurse had just pulled the bra down low in the front, and her boobs were hanging out. They were not large breasts, but they were beautiful. He'd known right then that he had to get out of there and hand her off to another doctor.
That had been days ago, and he honestly had not thought of her since. Now, after seeing her here tonight, she was the only thing on his mind. He scooted back a little behind the guy next to him and put his head down so he could continue to watch her without her realizing it.
Three stools down, Taylor decided she had enough liquid courage to make her move. She did a quick 360 of the room. At first, she did not see anyone that in any way interested her. She was about to give up, cry to her uncle, and head back to the cottage when she spotted her prey.
The second Taylor laid eyes on Greer, she literally felt a jolt of desire run through her. His head was down, so she could not see his face. However, everything else about him was amazing. He wore a black T-shirt that fit tightly across his shoulders, jeans, and scruffy cowboy boots. Taylor fixated on the boots for a few seconds. She had always had a thing for cowboys in books andmovies. Slowly, she let her eyes sweep up his body. She was trying to figure out how to approach him when he raised his head, and their eyes connected. For several seconds, they just stared at each other. Neither one said a word.
Taylor didn't know if it was the alcohol working its magic, but the lightning bolt of lust she felt looking at the gorgeous cowboy blew her away. He was her fantasy man come to life. But really, who could blame her? He was absolutely delicious, from the top of his dark hair down to his well-worn rugged boots. He was by far the sexiest, best-looking man she had ever seen, a real-life Marlboro Man just for her.
Greer had to give the lady credit. When he caught her staring a hole through him, she had not so much as blinked. Instead, she devoured him with her eyes. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at him the way she was now. He felt the first licks of lust kick start in his belly and then move lower. He saw a hunger in her eyes that surprised him and turned him inside out. His jeans began to get tighter by the minute.
Now that he knew who she was, Greer became concerned. He had just witnessed her slamming back whiskey. He seriously hoped she was not still taking the pain meds he had prescribed. Alcohol and pain meds were a terrible combination. Still watching her eyes closely, he knew the second that she recognized him.
