When she’d arrived, she’d apprehensively walked into the pub and braced herself. She could do this—this time she was prepared. She’d be direct and tell him it was going to be an early night. Jenny had paused briefly to admire the staircase as she passed by, taking the time to appreciate the craftsmanship that had gone into building things when all this had been new.The stories this place could tell, she’d thought, shaking her head, before letting out a resigned breath and continuing inside.
She’d spotted her date immediately in the throng gathered at the bar for after-work drinks. He stood out like a sore thumb, dressed in an expensive suit amid the sea of denim and hi-vis work shirts.
He had obviously seen her profile photo, recognising her straight away, and stood quickly from his seat at the table he’d selected, sending the salt and pepper shakers rocking.
Jenny focused on his face, which had momentarily looked terrified before settling into mildly petrified as he shot out a hand and leaned forward, bumping into his chair again and almost tripping.
‘It’s nice to meet you,’ Jenny said, shaking the dampish hand and resisting the urge to wipe her palm on her skirt as she slipped into her seat, hoping if he sat back down he’d avoid knocking anything else over. She’d dealt with nervous peoplebefore—usually big, tough footballer types, and usually when they were about to get an injection, but she hadn’t seen this level of nervousness in a long time.
‘Would you like a drink?’ he asked, making to stand up and almost tipping the table in the process.
‘It’s fine. I’ll get them.’ There was no way those drinks would make it back to the table from the bar in one piece if he went. She asked him what he’d like and prayed the night would get better.
‘Back again?’
Jenny bit back a groan as the same bartender from the night before sauntered over. He was going to think she was … Well, she had no idea what he’d think she was, but after coming out on another date with a different man two nights in a row, it was definitely not going to be something good. Not that she evencaredwhat some stranger thought, she told herself with a silent scoff. That cocky smile was back on his face again—the one he’d worn last night. The one that made her feel decidedly warm in places she hadn’t felt warm in way too long.
She felt the tip of her tongue poke out and lick her lip nervously, then she swallowed hard as she watched his eyes narrow slightly as they followed the action.Stop it! Get a grip, woman.
‘A glass of the house wine and …’ She searched the shelves behind him for inspiration. Alcohol had not been her friend this morning when she’d had to get up early. It was pathetic really just how much of a lightweight she’d become over the years. ‘Do you have anything non-alcoholic that isn’t boring?’ she asked.
‘Non-alcoholic, huh?’ he replied slowly, before reaching under the counter and bringing up a laminated menu to hand over. ‘Anything on here take your fancy?’
Jenny took the card he held out and cleared her throat as she forced her eyes to disengage from his. This was seriously getting ridiculous. Her eyes skimmed the menu and she found herself sighing inwardly at the names. Virgin Margaritas, Virgin Tequila Sunrise, Hot Lips … ‘Cuddles on the Beach,’ she read out loud, raising a doubtful eyebrow.
‘Yeah, when Sex on the Beach is ruled out, you can still cuddle,’ he said, the corner of his mouth twitching just enough to emphasise his otherwise solemn expression.
‘Fine. I’ll have one of those, thanks,’ Jenny said briskly, hoping to discourage any further conversation. She wasnotinterested in any kind of flirtatious banter with the bartender. How old was he anyway? Not that she cared but it was hard to tell. He certainly didn’t look like any of the men she knew around her own age. No greys were starting to work their way through his hair—he stillhadhair, so that was another giveaway right there. Austin’s hair, she’d noted the last time she saw him, had been receding faster than an outgoing tide. She probably shouldn’t enjoy that fact quite as much as she did.
‘I reckon that poor guy needs something a bit stronger than wine to settle those nerves,’ he said, nodding towards the table she’d come from and tearing her away from her thoughts. ‘I’m beginning to think your kids don’t like you, if these are the guys they’re setting you up with,’ he continued lightly, his eyes crinkling a little at the corners in a way she definitelydid notfind attractive … at all. But the man had a point.
‘Apparently there’s a limited supply of eligible men in my preferred age range,’ she said clearing her throat.
‘You don’t look like the kind who’s after a sugar daddy.’
A sugar da— What the actual hell? They wereherage. ‘Hardly,’ she told him, with a sharp glare. Was this guy theonlybartender this place had?
‘There you go,’ he said, sliding the drinks across the bar as she tapped her card to pay. ‘Good luck with contestant number two, Jenny.’
She sent him an unimpressed frown, but he was already taking the order of the person beside her.
‘Here we go, whoops,’ she said, as Alan reached for the glass as she was about to set it down and almost sloshed the contents down the sides.For the love of God, man, take a freaking breath and calm the hell down. She watched as he lifted the glass to his lips and took a hefty sip, almost downing the contents in one go. Whoa.
‘I’m a little bit … nervous. You could probably tell,’ he said, managing a weak smile.
Blind Freddy could tell, she thought dryly. ‘That’s okay. These things are a bit nerve-wracking.’
‘They are.’
‘So why do you do it?’ she asked.
‘My mother,’ he said, and looked down into his glass mournfully.
‘Excuse me?’ Jenny asked, certain she must have missed something.
‘My mother’s been trying to marry me off for years,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I think she’s sick of me living at home.’
‘If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you again?’ Jenny asked hesitantly.
