“All right, my friends. No guests were lost, injured, or got dead this week. I call that a success. Let’s make a toast the German way.”
He held up his shot glass, waiting for us to pick up our own. “We make eye contact. This is very important. If you don’t, you’ll have one hundred years of bad sex.”
A chorus of protests went up as everyone complied. I locked eyes with Chitra, then Nancy, then Henrik, who looked far too pleased with himself. But, hell, I’d already lived through an entire marriage of bad sex; there was no way I wanted to be cursed with more.
Henrik continued. “We clink glasses and say, ‘Zum wohl.’Can you say that?”
We practiced working our mouths around the German phrase until Henrik was satisfied we had it down. Then we all raised our glasses, chanted, “Zum wohl,” as we clinked, and tossed back the burning shots of vodka.
Shuddering, I slammed my glass onto the table and picked up my beer, chasing the flames down my esophagus. Henrik laughed at my reaction and plopped down between me and Javier.
“Oh, my friend.” He draped his arm on my shoulder. “I did not know you were such a beginner. You will be drunk in no time.”
I shoved him off, pinning him with a glare I didn’t mean. “I’m not getting drunk tonight.”
I’d had half a beer and one shot, and I was already slightly tipsy, but he didn’t need to know that.
He hummed, unconvinced. “Okay. If that’s what you would like to believe, I will not argue. Come play darts with me. I’m very bad. There is a small chance you can beat me.”
I took my beer with me, dropping it on one of the high-top tables near the darts. At first, we followed the rules as best we could, then after the first round, we started making up our own. Chitra and Nancy joined for the blindfolded throwing competition—the blindfold being Henrik’s hand, and Gregor and Mikey trampled us during the hand-holding round.
Henrik and I couldn’t stop laughing long enough to aim at the board. That might have been due to the second shot he’d fed me, or when he whispered in my ear that he thought Javier was a “Hot and spicy salt-and-pepper daddy.” I’d suspected I wasn’t Henrik’s type from the beginning, but having it confirmed made it easier to be physically close to him and let my guard down.
When we lost yet again, I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his broad chest. “We should dance now.”
“Oh yes.” He took me by the waist and dipped me so low my head went fuzzy. “Do you think Javier likes to dance?”
I let my arms fall back as my hair brushed the floor. “I don’t know. We can ask him.”
He brought me back upright faster than I was ready for. Splotches of pink painted his cheeks.
“No, no. Zara, we can’t ask him.”
I patted his rosy cheek. “Don’t worry, Hen-hen. I won’t give you away. Your secret love for our boss is safe with me.”
His brow dropped. “It’s only a summer crush. You should find one of your own. They make the summer far more fun. How about Gregor? I do not understand half the things he says, but his red hair is very nice.”
Gregor had a thick Scottish accent and pretty, flaming-red hair, but I didn’t foresee myself falling for him. Not even a little bit.
“Why do I need a summer crush when I’ve got you?”
His smile spread wide, and he rocked me wildly side to side. “I’m not going to kiss you, my friend.”
I snorted a little laugh. “That’s the best kind of crush.”
“I disagree. I will find you a suitable man who might kiss you.” He scanned the bar behind me. “Ah. I’ve found the perfect guy for you. He looks even better out of a suit.”
My reflexes might’ve been a little slow, but the hairs on the back of my neck immediately stood on end. Henrik spun me and dipped his mouth to my ear, pointing toward the man sitting at a table on the other side of the bar.
Cormac, Caleb, and another man I suspected to be Remington Town were having dinner. Henrik was right, Cormac did look even better in a fitted tee and jeans. The tattoo peeking from beneath the short sleeve of his shirt did even more to add to his appeal, and that wasn’t fair. He’d always been beautiful…
But now…
Henrik giggled with maniacal glee and spun me in the other direction, making my already dizzy brain turn like an out-of-control top.
Then he whispered in my ear, “I’ve decided, Zara. Cormac Kelly is going to be your summer crush.”
That made sense. Why should this summer be any different than any of the others I’d spent in Sugar Brush?
