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I laugh. “You are so full of it.”
Guys never hit on me like this. Not to say I don’t date or hook-up with men I meet….
But a man who flirts so openly, with so much sex appeal? It’s a first.
“Not full of it,” he says. “I mean it. I’d build that log house with my own two hands.”
I can’t help but laugh, but honestly, my whole body is tingling with the pleasure of his compliments.
When the drink cart arrives, we both order shots of whiskey.
“I’d toast to us,” I say. “But I don’t even know your name.”
“Bradley. And yours?”
“I’m CeeCee.” I lift my plastic glass. “To less Merry Christmas-ed up days in the future.”
“I’ll drink to that.”Chapter FourBradleyIt’s a quick flight to Phoenix, and by the time we start our descent I’ve decided that there is more to CeeCee than I realized at first glance.
When we first met, her fists were raised, her voice loud, and she was bigger than her petite frame would have led me to believe.
And then I got to know her.
For two hours, the two of us bullshit, talk about music and shows we’ve recently seen. Both of us seeming to prefer books to TV show marathons on Netflix.
I tell her about my bar, how I don’t know how to get people to show up for the grand opening. She has all kinds of suggestions and looks shocked when I tell her I don’t even have a Facebook page set up yet. I appreciate her input. In fact, I tell her I should hire her.
“I don’t know,” she says nervously. “I mean I’d love to take on something like that, but I don’t know if I have enough experience. I’ve been manning the front desk for the last two years, I don’t know if I want to get my feet wet with something so high-stakes as your livelihood.”
“I bet you know more than you’re giving yourself credit for.”
She just smiles and takes another sip of her whiskey.
“You’ll have to come to my bar when it opens.” The plane has landed and we’re grabbing our luggage from the overhead compartments.
“That would be cool, what is the name of it again?”
“The signage says Wet Whistle, but I’m thinking I should name it something else.”
We’re walking into the terminal now, and we stop, facing one another realizing this is goodbye. She is so much smaller than me, and I have this ridiculous idea of pulling her into my arms and kissing her. I’d make it softer than I usually kiss women.
“Oh yeah?” she asks. “What should you name it?”
“Something like The Mountain Man’s Bar,” I smile, liking her surprised expression. “That would’ve gotten you to come, right?”
“Yeah, I can see it now. You could hang antlers on the wall and have a big fireplace roaring. It could be cozy, but sexy too. You could require a beard on every man that walks in.”
“Well, there actually are antlers on the walls.”
“Then I’m guessing it’s more hipster than mountain man.”
“Is there a difference?”
She laughs and takes a deep sigh. “It’s pretty dead in here.”
We look around the airport, and see that the other passengers from our flight have quickly left the gate; no one wants to be here longer than necessary. It’s after midnight, officially Christmas Day.
“Yeah, no one’s around. Hope that poor lady with the kids has some help on this end,” I say.
“That’s the thing about you, Bradley. You say some really surprising things.”
I run my hand over my beard, thinking that this girl has no idea. “You think the things I say are surprising? I don’t think you’d know what to do with the things I’m thinking.
“Try me.”
Maybe it’s the way she says it, so plainly, so clearly. And damn I’ve been looking at her tits for two hours straight, loving the way her sweater pulls tight across them, her little nipples showing through. I’ve watched her eyes as they roam over me; I know she wants what I can offer.
No woman looks at a man like that if she isn’t having her own dirty thoughts.
I step towards her and take a gamble. “Let’s Merry Christmas.”
She laughs, but then her eyes get wide. “Merry Christmas like Merry Christmas?”
“Why not? It’s Christmas morning. Who knows if we’ll actually see one another again? And even if we do, I have a feeling I’m never gonna forget this night one way or another. But I think if we Merry Christmas before we say goodbye, it would go down in history as the best Christmas morning of my life.”
“Okay.” She grins. “Let’s Merry Christmas.”
We stand there, face to face, looking at one another, and I realize she’s just given me permission to fuck her here and now.
She didn’t blow it off like a joke and it affirms everything I thought was passing between us on that flight. It wasn’t the whiskey talking; it was chemistry, plain and simple.
