Finally, I pour, satisfaction rushing through me as the cocktail comes out exactly how I planned.
Delicious, creamy yellow color with a perfect whipped head, smelling both citrusy and sweet. I garnish it with a slice of lemon and nudge it across the bar.
“There. Fancy enough for you, Ms. New York Wannabe?”
Clementine’s eyes are comically wide, and I realize she thought I was bluffing about my mixology skills. “What is this?”
“Try it. Then I’ll tell you.”
“Ah. So, poison then?” Despite her words, Clementine picks up my concoction and takes a sip.
She lets out an erotic groan of satisfaction.
Fuck. Distraction backfired.
“Oh my gods.” She moans the words, and I wonder if anyone will notice if I duck outside and go take a dip in the chilly lake. “This is the best cocktail I’ve ever had.” She takes another long sip.
“Careful,” I grumble. “It’s strong.”
Clementine licks a stray drop off her bottom lip, and I step closer to the bar, if only to have it block from my waist down.
“I need you to make one of these for me every day.” She pounds a fist on the bar, as if making a proclamation. “This …” She quirks a brow in silent prompting.
“Ramos Gin Fizz,” I supply.
“This Ramos Gin Fizz is my official usual.”
I’ve created a menace, and it was my own doing. Mentally, I make a note to myself to put in an order for more orange flower water and heavy cream. Plenty of my patrons order specialty drinks, but never anything as elaborate as what I just made Clementine. I only have limited supplies just in case.
Why order so much when she’s going to be heading out as soon as the coast is clear?
A week ago, I would have welcomed the thought.
Now … I don’t know. Spending these days together, cohabitating and weaving our routines—it’s been sort of pleasant. I find I like having someone else to consider when making my plans for the day. And when we’re not bickering, the conversations we have fall more on the amusing banter end of the communication spectrum.
“What are you working on?” My voice is always grittier when I speak to her, like I’m on the edge of a temper. More likely, I’m preemptively trying to protect myself from these unfamiliar feelings cropping up whenever we’re near.
Clementine takes another savoring, eyes-closed sip, and then she turns her laptop so I can see the screen.
The background is a breathtaking image of the Great Smoky Mountains with intricate script in the sky, displaying what I assume is the name of a band. There’s a list of tour dates, with buttons encouraging you to click for tickets. On the side of the screen, I spy a toolbar and realize that Clementine is currently building this site.
“You follow them on tour too?” I try the joke as my eyes stay glued to the screen.
“Not anymore.” She reclaims her laptop, and I try not to let on how I was still reading. “My band-chasing days are over. I mean, I’ll road-trip to see one of my favorites if they aren’t visiting the city I’m in. But I got tired of living out of a bag. Plus, it’s not fair to Shrimp to keep him cooped up in a car all day. He needs to roam.”
The dog in question lost interest in our conversation and has returned to napping deeply on the ground, seeming uninterested in moving an inch from his current position. Doesn’t give me roaming vibes, but I don’t argue with her.
“You settled then? In Nashville?” That’s where she encountered the hunter.
Clementine wobbles her head in a noncommittal gesture. “I’m renting an apartment. Been there for close to a year. But I’m not sure it’s my forever place.”
I don’t know why a tension in my chest eases at knowing she isn’t longing to return to Nashville. Maybe it’s just because I see that city—where she met Luke, the hunter—as dangerous now.
“Well, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need.”
She quirks a brow. “In your house? You mean you’re not itching to get rid of me? Developing a rash at the mere thought of me in your space?”
Wanting to see how she’ll react, I tug up the bottom of my shirt, showing off a six-pack that I refuse to admit is largely due to my werewolf genes. “Been over a week, and no rash as far as I can see.”
