“Then why did you agree to it?”
“Because I lost fair and square.” Though she was thinking it wasn’t that fair. “Anyway, hopefully it won’t be that big of a flop. And it gets me out of the house for the night.”
“There you go. Think positive.”
“I don’t have much of a choice.”
“We all have choices in life, Molly. You could come down with the sudden runs…eating one of your Brussels sprouts cookies.”
“Ha. I guess I have no one to blame but myself for even taking the bet. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck and let me know how you make out.”
“With any luck, it’s something I can laugh about another day.”
3
CHICKEN COCK
Dean glanced up at the sexy redhead who had just sat at his bar. Looked like she was all alone and not in a good mood either.
Since he was stuck working tonight being down staff, maybe he could get some eye candy out of it and try not to think about the fact that he should be home with Jonah and not having Carly putting his son to bed tonight.
“What can I get you?” he asked her after he nodded his head to Sheila, one of the two other bartenders working tonight. With any luck, he could sneak out in a few hours but the place was just jamming like always.
Nothing wrong with that from a business standpoint.
“A shot of something. I don’t care what.”
He lifted an eyebrow at her. “That kind of night, huh?” He reached behind the bar for a bottle and poured a shot, handing it over.
She lifted it to her lips, downed it, and then started to cough and gag until water ran out of her eyes. “What the hell was that?”
“Chicken Cock,” he said with a grin on his face.
She shoved the glass away, almost sending it over the edge of the bar. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
He pulled the bottle out from behind the bar and showed her Chicken Cock Cinnamon Whiskey. “You said you didn’t care. I saw the red hair, and cinnamon came to mind.”
“Jesus H Christ,” she said. “Can I get a glass of water? My throat is still burning.”
He was already filling the glass with ice before she asked. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Maybe a wine. White?” she said. “Do I have to be specific or will you give me one that will go down smoothly?”
“I’ve got you covered.”
He filled her a wineglass and set it down in front of her, looked around the bar and though it was early yet and only midweek, it was crazy busy because he had a special mixer tonight and wanted three bartenders on.
The restaurant in the back was packed, but the front where people mingled, would fade away by ten, most having to get up for work the next day. He’d like to get his ass out of here by nine.
Shit, when had he become such a dud?
When he became a dad.
And he wouldn’t trade it for a thing.
She picked up the wineglass, put the rim to her lips and sipped. Nice full lips that had a hint of gloss to them that maybe was remaining from earlier as if she’d been eating and left, or kissed someone. Either way, it wasn’t off completely and his eyes were waging a war between them and her cleavage.
