“Not tacos,” Heather replied.
“Tacos are the best.”
“It’s just that they played such a pivotal role in the pretend demise of our never-happened relationship. Maybe we should have something else instead.”
Jase cocked an eyebrow. “Sandwiches, then?”
That totally depended. “Hot or cold?”
“Which do you like?” he asked.
“Depends on the sandwich. Hot sandwiches definitely pair well with cockies.” Oh dear Lord, had she really just said that?
Jase grinned huge. “Yes, I guess they do. Hot sandwiches it is.”
“It’s still not a date. Just you and me and hot sandwiches while we eat cockies.”
“I’m not eating those,” he said. “I make it a point not to eat anything shaped as an appendage. Personal rule.”
“Turn it over and pretend it’s a rainbow.” Heather did her best to dare him with only her eyes.
“Don’t you have to get them to their rightful owner, anyway?” he asked. “We could, you know, not eat them and deliver them after.”
“Candy ran a spare set over. These are all ours,” Heather said proudly.
The heavy metal door creaked open, and a man in a suit stepped through with the bouquet of cockies. “You’re here for the cookies?”
“That’d be us.” Jase stood and snagged the outstretched vase. “We’re very sorry for the mistake.”
“I hope whoever these are for appreciates them.” Mr. Funeral gave Jase a pointed glance before heading back inside.
“Heather?” Jase asked.
“Uh-huh,” Heather replied, taking the cockies from him.
“I need a drink.” Jase headed across the lot to the dive bar up the road. “You coming?”
Heather shrugged.
Why not?
* * *
The scent of bottom-shelf booze,peanuts, and powdery wood particles tickled Jase’s nose. So maybe this dive took the word “dive” to a whole new level.
He held the door open for Heather and her bouquet, tucked against her side.
She barely set foot through the windowless wooden door of the bar on Champa Street before turning on her heel. She ran straight into a solid wall of Jase. Not that he intentionally blocked the doorway.
It just happened that way.
He didn’t dislike the way her chest pressed against his own in that instant. As a matter of fact, he appreciated the contact on a carnal level. He’d always been attracted to Heather, even when she was off-limits. Ever since he found out she was single again, his body seemed to be on a mission to override his brain circuits. He shook the sawdust haze from his brain.
“Trying to run already?” he asked.
“Not even a little.” She shifted the bouquet a bit.
Hands on her shoulders, he twirled her so she faced the long bar top where a handful of rough-looking guys in cowboy hats tossed back bottles of beer. He did a quick inventory of the bar. Four cowboys at the bar top, a guy playing pool with a brunette, and the bartender. Some things stayed the same when he got discharged, including inventorying the room whenever he walked in.
