I’m not, but why would that be so terrible?Maybe my charms are wearing thin?
I purse my lips for a second and tilt my head to assess her, resisting the urge to laugh again. I don’t think that would go down well. “No, I’m just trying to gain some brownie points with the good Lord up there.” I point up towards the ceiling like that will give some clarification. “I’ve had a string of bad luck lately.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she replies, glancing toward the far end of the restaurant for a moment. “That happened to my friend, Sadie over there,” she goes on, flicking her head in that direction. “She went through a terrible time. But now look at her—happy in Wyoming and in love with her boss.”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise as I follow her glance over to the far table where two girls are sitting chatting, a redhead and a blonde. “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I muse.
“Not at all. I’m just saying, your luck can change in an instant.”
My eyes widen and she waves her hand in the air between us. “Shit! No, I didn’t mean it likethat.OH MY GOD.” She slaps a hand over her mouth.
“Didn’t mean it like what, exactly?” I lift an eyebrow, hoping she’ll clarify. This is a fun game.
“Um… nothing. Did I mention I was tired?” she muffles over the top of her hand still covering her mouth.
“You did, Ma’am.” I don’t know if pressing my lips together will save me from wanting to chuckle once more, but it’s well worth a try. Fuck, she is damned cute. So is the crimson flush suddenly adorning her cheeks.Hot.
“I think I might need to sit down,” she says. “Or have a shot.”
I grin. “Long as you don’t go skatin’ again.”
Her eyes linger on my mouth for a fraction of a second, then she looks back again at her waiting friends. “Fine,” she sighs. “One quick shot. But I’m paying.”
I think I could get used to those dimples.
I’m used to women fawning at my feet, not because they want me, therealme anyway, the man they think they know.
This is refreshing. I like being in a place where nobody knows me and nobody cares. I haven’t had enough of that in my life for years.
“A quickie, you say?” I chuckle under my breath because I’m a cheeky jackass who clearly has no filter.
“Don’t even,” she fires back at me like a cannon.
“Tequila?” I offer.
“Now you’re talking.”
CHAPTER 3
Bailey
The sting of the tequila hits the back of my throat at lightning speed. Knocking one back tonight with a random stranger at The Perky Porch, where nothing exciting ever happens, is startling—and it’s the last thing I expected to be doing.
I wince as the liquid works its way down, the burn very real, and place the shot glass back on the counter. It’s a whisker short of a slam. “Holy shit,” I choke out, trying not to embarrass myself even more than I have done tonight. It’s been a while since I did shots with anyone, much less a stranger.
Cute cowboy Brett, however, is a tequila slamming pro from way back. I can tell. The way he purses his lips, then parts them to bring the liquid up to his mouth and slings it back like he’s in some Wild West movie. All cool, calm, and collected. Not a cough or a gag in sight.
And he’s sexy. His beard is short and well-trimmed, the color of a whiskey neat. It frames his face like the dusty backdrop of a fall sky at dusk. His eyes are a pretty shade of hazel.
“You can say that again.” He even slides the glass onto the bar with a sexy, easy way about him, pushing it away like he’s done with it.
Hot.
I lift a brow. “Done that before?”
“A time or two,” he says, his pretty eyes sparkle.Do they have a touch of green?At least, that’s how it looks from this angle. He blinks and looks down, swallowing hard as if he’s about to say something. But just as quick as the storm cloud comes, it’s gone again when he looks back up to meet my gaze. “You?”
“Not as much as I need to,” I say, a little too honestly. That goes for a lot of things around here, but best not to tell a stranger that. “So, thank you. You were right, it is what I needed.”
