The reference to “You Make My Dreams Come True” leads to my head shaking in amusement. “You’re like a seven-foot walking, talking, puck blocking Jukebox.”
“I’m only six-five.”
Giggling at his correction is rewarded with another kiss on the back of my hand.
“And the butterfly save would be ‘Nature Planned It’.”
Catching my jaw from falling to the ground is impossible. “How the hell do you even know that song?”
“You said it yourself, beautiful.” Delicious smugness sliding through his stare has me biting my red stained lip. “I’m a walking, talking, puck blocking Jukebox.”
“I’m gonna call you Jukes.”
“And I’m gonna love every fuckin’ minute of it.” An arrogant wink precedes him pulling on the frame of the random 1920’s, outdoor hallway painting I had been waiting beside. “Shall we?”
Not only am I surprised the giant portrait is actually a door, I’m also completely amazed by the unexpected establishment we enter. The tin tile style roof combined with the Gatsby inspired Art Deco furniture and the prohibition approved bar all work seamlessly together to create a truly hidden gem in The Sphere, the high dollar district located rightoutside of downtown Dalvegan on the opposite end of The Locker District.
Kiralovesthis area.
My credit card?
Not so much.
Come on now.
Who wants to pay $18.99 for a wedge salad?
But I guess it’s my fault for not speaking up?
For not actually suggestingsomethingwhen she asks whereIwanna go for lunch?
The door hasn’t even finished closing behind us when an attractive, muscular, older male steps in front of us to ensure we don’t continue inward until our presence has been properly verified. “Password?”
“Really, Bags?” Thayne good naturedly goads. “We gotta do thisevery timeI come in?” He impishly beams down at the man not much taller than me. “We gotta pretend you don’t knowexactlywho I am?” His head tilts slightly to one side, light brown locks slightly swaying. “We gotta go through the motions even though I scored you playoff tix –and a locker room tour– as a graduation gift for your future Dyr College freshman?”
This time the corner of his lip kicks upward prior to him confessing, “I don’t ask, I don’t get to keep this gig. And while we both know HE pays well…kids are expensive.” He lets a full mouth grin grow. “Especially when they play hockey.”
My date good heartedly surrenders. “Ain’t that ‘The Gospel Truth’.”
There’s no stopping myself from croaking, “Hercules?!”
Our eyes briefly meet. “Do you remember The Muses, Gillybean?” His teeth steal a small bite of his bottom lip. “Great songsandmy first cartoon crushes.”
I don’t bother hiding my giggles. “Crushes? As inplural?”
“They were different heights and sizes and voice ranges. How could any guy in his right mind pick jus’ one?”
More snickers escape me on a shake of the head.
“First crushesandstillcrushes.” He playfully winks. “Who doesn’t occasionally pop a post when they start all that hip swayin’?”
Ohmygoooddddd!
Is he really just openly admitting to everyone in a ten-foot radius what occasionally turns him on?!
“Password?” lightly chortles the man he referred to as Bags.
“Robusta.”
