She burst out laughing. “I don’t believe that. Not even a little bit. You’re a total Boy Scout.”
“Ha!” I scoffed, picking up a shot glass set in front of us. “Get a few of these in me, and you’ll be singing a different tune.”
She picked up her own shot glass. “I’ll need quite a few of these before I start singing.”
I clinked my glass to hers. “Challenge accepted, Mazzy Belle.”
All it took was two shots and one and a half blue coconut drinks for Mazzy’s cheeks to flush and her tongue to get loose. Well…looser. She didn’t strike me as a woman who had trouble letting her thoughts out.
“How are you so rich?”
“You know the dead dad I mentioned?” She nodded, her head a little bobbly. “He left me a lot of money, and I handed it all over to my brother, Roman. Otherwise, I would have blown it on Legos or something else fun but ultimately stupid. Technically, I’m a silent partner in his company, but basically, I’m just the moneybags.”
Her nose scrunched. “Was it rude of me to ask that?”
“I mean, yeah, probably.” I drew my finger down her nose, smoothing it out. “But I don’t really care. I’m an open book.”
“Okay, Open Book, do you have an actual job?”
“I do.” I moved to put my elbow on the bar, and it took three attempts to land. Then I leaned back, allowing her a good look at me. “Tell me what you think I do for a living.”
“Mortician,” she deadpanned.
“Nope. Close though.” She couldn’t have been more off, but she was cute, and I wanted to keep her spirits up.
“You missed your calling. If I were going to bury a loved one, you being the one there to comfort me would definitely help the process.”
“Aw, would you want a hug?”
This time, her forehead did the crinkling as her brows rose. “Are you offering?”
“Always. I love hugs.” I spread my arms wide. “Get in here.”
She leaned forward, promptly falling off her stool. I tried to catch her, but she was too fast—or I was too slow. One second, I was bracing for a hug, and the next, she’d vanished.
I found her on the sandy ground by following her ringing giggle. “You let me fall,” she accused, absolutely no heat behind her words.
As carefully as I could, I got to my feet, putting my hands on my hips. She was way down there, all the way on the floor, her legs sprawled, her dress riding up dangerously high. She didn’tseem to care, but I did. Her inner thighs looked like a pool of cream, delicious to lap right up.
“You leaped to your death,” I said. “Was that smart?”
“I was promised a hug. There isn’t much I won’t do for a quality hug.” She raised her arms and wiggled her fingers. “Do you think you could scoop me off the ground before I start to sober up and get embarrassed?”
I had to crouch to reach her, and since neither of us was steady, it took more effort than it should have to get her to her feet. There was a lot of grappling and near disaster, but eventually, I had her in my arms. Her head reached the center of my chest, and when she nestled against me, it felt strangely right.
I wrapped my arms around her, cupping her lower back and the crown of her head.
“How’s this?”
“Comfy.” She sighed, rubbing her cheek against me.
I laughed. “I mean, do you still think I’d make a good mortician?”
“Hmmm…” She pressed her fingers along my spine then brought her hand around to my abdomen, prodding me like a piece of meat. “You’re awfully muscle-y. I’m beginning to think my first guess was incorrect. Though you are extremely good at hugging.”
“You’re pretty good at hugging too, for a shortcake.”
“Ben!” she huffed. “It’s rude to bring up someone’s diminutive stature. Especially when you’re abnormally tall.”
