Page 35 of Snowed

“Well, I certainly hope we can see each other again.”

“Thank you for tonight,” I said, without committing to anything else. Then I disappeared to a small room located behind the bar.

A minute later, Tucker peeked in. “You good?”

“Yes.” I sighed. “Thank you for that.”

“I’m keeping an eye out for when he leaves. You can come back when the coast is clear.”

As I nodded, I took a moment to appreciate how beautiful Maggie’s brother was. Dressed in a fitted black T-shirt that showcased his muscular arms and dark jeans that accentuated his ass, I had to admire the handsome man he’d grown into. He had a few tats on his forearms that only added to his appeal, and his once-short brown hair had grown out a bit. He had just the right amount of chin scruff, which I imagined felt really good against a woman’s skin.

“Cool.” I cleared my throat. “Thank you, Tucker.”

Ten minutes later, he came back to let me know it was safe to return.

When I found a seat at the bar, waiting for me was one of my favorite drinks. “How did you know I wanted a tequila and soda with lime?”

He winked. “That was always your favorite, wasn’t it?”

I nodded. “It was pretty much all I drank back in the day—when your sister had parties while your parents were away.”

“I remember.” He grinned and winked again. “It’s on the house, of course.”

“Thank you.”

“I think you deserve it after enduring that date.”

I exhaled. “Thanks again for rescuing me.”

“I wouldn’t have had to if Maggie hadn’t had the brilliant idea to invade the bar with boring suits tonight.”

“Well, we both have a right to be annoyed with her, then.”

“Let’s give her hell when she comes back.” He snickered.

His teeth gleamed. I remembered when he wore braces. It felt kind of wrong to be having these feelings about him. But it was hard not to notice. And while the four-year age difference between us had seemed pretty big when we were younger, when you’re twenty-nine and twenty-five, not so much.

I stirred the small straw around in my drink. “Maggie means well, though.”

He wiped down the bar. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“This isn’t about underwear, is it?” I winked.

Once, when Tucker was ten and his friends were playing Truth or Dare, they’d dared him to ask me what color underwear I was wearing. At the time, I was fourteen and mortified. Pretty sure if he asked me that question now, I’d be okay with it. Especially in that sexy voice. “What are you wearing, Lucy?”

“I guess I’ll never live that one down, huh?” He laughed.

“Nope,” I teased. “But sure, ask me whatever you want.”

“Why are you here?”

I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t need to be set up with any of these goons. Men must flock to you without Maggie’s help.”

My cheeks warmed. “You’d be surprised. Sometimes I feel like I have the opposite effect on men. At least the right ones.”

“Well, then they’re intimidated.”