Butfuckme, do I wish it did because I don’t need half the town seeing me sporting lumber in the wild.
“You ain’t gotta give her alcohol poisonin’ for that to happen,” Moose jokes at the same time he grabs our first pair of glasses. “You ain’t that shitty to be around sober.”
“Thanks, asshole.”
“Anytime.”
More giggles get my mind spinning before she investigates, “Good friends?”
“We grew up together.”
“So, you grew up around here.”
“Yup.” Our eyes momentarily meet. “You didn’t.”
Her smile remains during her headshake. “I did not.”
“I know,” playfully leaves me. “We would’ve been married already if you had.”
The sound more beautiful than a sold-out crowd during a shut out reaches my ears yet again as she sweetly asks, “Do you always just…say…whatever you’re thinking?”
“I just say whatever’smy truth.” This time a mixture of a hum and sigh escapes prompting me to turn my attention to the bartender. “There’s a guaranteed hundo in your tip jar if you keepmy ordersa bit more of a priority.”
“Make it two.”
Chuckles bouncing my entire frame are attached to me reaching for my wallet. “You shakin’ me down?”
“You can afford it.”
“Not the point.”
“Keep talkin’ shit, and I’ll push for three,” Moose teasingly pokes while muddling the mixture of bitters and sugar in each of the glasses.
“This is extortion.”
“Can you spell extortion, Troff?”
The jab precedes me flashing him my middle finger and shoving two-hundred-dollar bills into the nearby jar.
“And don’t make me remind you that was forpriorityservice.” He winks, tosses the tool to the side, and grabs a bottle of Wilcox to add to the glass. “That two hundo doesnotcover your regular services.”
I shove my wallet back into my pocket on a mirthful, “Noted.”
“Okay,” my future wife’s fingers curl adoringly around my bicep, unknowingly causing my cock to swell all over again, “so what’s he making, first?”
“Old fashions,” I reply more breathless than intended.
“Sugar. Bitters. Whiskey. And…” Moose plops solid chunks in each, “an ice cube.”
“Topped with an orange twist,” my explanation is given in tandem with the action being completed, “and a cherry.”
“Luxardo Maraschino Cherries,” informs our bartender upon his delivery. “Little trick of the trade I learned at a dive bar when I was visitin’ a friend in the mitten.”
“That’s a place?” Curiously croaks the woman still warmly clutching onto me.
“Michigan,” we answer in unison.
“Look at that,” she cheekily comments and reaches for the glass closest to her, “a mixologyandgeography lesson.”
