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And the woman behind the bar was the best thing I’d seen all day.
ten
. . .
Ruby
I had just finished dryingoff a few cocktail glasses when the light from the open door flooded the space, and River walked inside. There was no one here at the moment, as it was country music night, and the bar would be packed in a couple of hours.
This is the calm before the storm.
He looked all broody and pissed off, and it worked for him.
He wore a black collared button-up, dark hair a bit more tamed than usual, and—Oh.
His jeans had a clearly obvious stain covering his entire groin area.
“Wow. You’ve been here for thirty seconds, and you already lost control from my mere presence?” I smirked.
Couldn’t help myself.
His lips turned up in the corners as he pulled out the barstool and sat down. “One can wish. That’s a title I’d wear proudly.”
I rolled my eyes and poured him a beer and slid it across the wood bar top. “I’m guessing you could use one of these.”
He took a long pull before setting the glass down. “Thanks.”
“Do you want to unload your problems on your bartender?” I leaned against the edge of the bar and batted my lashes. “Evil queens are good listeners.”
“Fuck. That has to get old, listening to everyone’s shit. I feel like a damn therapist myself lately. I don’t know when attorneys became sounding boards for everything going wrong in their clients’ lives.”
“Let me guess. You were so busy listening to a client that you couldn’t make it to the restroom?” I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from laughing.
“I didn’t piss my pants, but odd that the first place you looked when I walked through the door was at my dick.”
My heart raced faster than normal, but I acted completely unfazed by his words.
“It comes with the territory. First sign of a guy needing to be cut off from the booze is if he wets himself.” That was completely made up, but it did seem logical enough.
“I see. So, it’s not my dick in particular that you can’t take your eyes off of.”
“Correct.” I raised a brow.
“I’ll tell you what. I’m not big on sharing my shit, but I’ll trade you. One shitty thing for another. I tell you something, you tell me something.”
“I thought you were tired of being a therapist.”
“I’m tired of listening to meaningless shit from people I’m not interested in,” he said, reaching for his glass and taking another pull.
“Fine. Tell me why you have a giant stain on your crotch, and maybe I’ll tell you a fun fact about my day.”
“My receptionist is a complete train wreck. She can’t follow the simplest of directions. She also can’t walk for shit, and she tripped over her own feet and poured a scalding-hot cup of coffee on my dick.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t intentional?” I smirked. “You seem like you’d be a tough boss to work for.”
He looked flattered by what I’d said, as if it were a compliment. “Thanks. But no, she doesn’t have a manipulative bone in her body. She’s just too bubbly for her own damn good. It was an accident.”
“And your dick? How’s it going down there?”
