She made a gagging sound. “Ew, whiskey and I do not mix.”
“Darlin',” I huffed. “You do know there's whiskey in it right?"
"What, really? I don't usually like it."
"I don’t know if this friendship’s gonna work out between us if you don't like whiskey," I said with a soft laugh.
“What?” Her gasp drew the corner of my lips upward. “What are you talking about?”
“I got a real close relationship with my friends Jack, Jimmy, and Jameson. If you don’t get along with them…well, I don't know if this can work.”
A beat of silence. Two. Three. “I don’t get it.”
I dropped my head forward, wiping a hand down my face. She sounded so clueless. “You know… Jack Daniels. Jim Beam. Jameson whiskey.”
Another moment of quiet, the only sound that of some shitty new country song blasting from the speakers. Couldn’t they play some Garth or something from the King of Country himself?
“Oh! I get it!” she finally gasped, an embarrassed laugh bubbling out of her.
I shook my head, trying and failing to bite back a smirk. “Oh, well bless your heart, you sweet, innocent thing, you.”
“Hey!” Her tone took on a defensive edge, and a soft, firm pressure pressed against my chest, nudging me backward slightly.Did she just push me? “That’s not true! I am not all that innocent.”
“Really?” I scoffed, my brow rising in question.
Something brushed against my leg, before settling there. I reached out a hand, feeling her thigh once more. Another spark. Another flutter in my chest. Did this girl have magic in her or something, or was I just that lonely that the simplest touch stirred something in my soul I’d thought long gone?
I pulled my hand away, even if a part of me told me to leave it. It was hard enough reading a woman’s emotions, but now it was even fucking harder. I only had her voice and touch to go off of. And while both seemed inviting enough, I wasn’t confident in pushing forward.
“When I was in tenth grade, I got invited to prom by a senior,” she said, her voice rising as she spoke. “My parents let me go, but were adamant that I be home by midnight. I stayed out til two, though.”
My head fell back, a laugh falling from my lips. Oh God, this girl really was innocent. “Shit, two hours late. Look at you, you rebel.”
Another nudge to my shoulder. “It was a big deal! I got grounded for a week!”
“That’s nothin’. I got kicked out of my prom for spikin’ all the drinks at the refreshments station.”
“Shut up! You did not?”
“Sure did,” I chuckled, thinking back on a simpler time. A simpler world. Back when I’d been crazy and wild and full of mischief.
“Here’s your drinks,” The bartender’s voice stopped our conversation. “Should I open a tab for you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, fishing out my wallet from my back pocket before grabbing my card and handing it to her.
“Sounds good, I’ll keep it open, Mr. Lane—Wait…you’re Huxson Lane? Like,theHuxson Lane?”
Fuck.I blew out a slow breath, fighting the disappointment and annoyance welling inside me. I knew this would happen. Damn it.
“I used to be.” I didn’t know exactly where she stood in relation to me, but I made sure my face and tone told her everything she needed to know. I wasn’t talking about this. Not now.
“O-oh…sorry, sir. I’ll get that opened up for you. Let me know if y’all need anythin’ else.”
I nodded. “A shot of Jameson too, please. Make it a double.”
Tonight was gonna be one of those nights.
“Right away, sir.”
