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It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried, but adventure and risk taking had never come naturally to her.
She eyed the few comments she did have on her blog.
Nice.
Pretty.
Then there was the one that asked if she had any pictures of herself, and when would she come to his town?
Ugh. That was not the kind of adventure she was looking for.
Unfortunately, though she was active on social media and always posting on her blog, traffic was low. But she was still new at this, right? It would take time to establish and make a name for herself.
Sighing, she pushed the plate aside and bolstered her resolve as she pulled the laptop back, front and center. At least she could finish an assignment for the online writing course she was taking. Years as an accountant had left her writing skills somewhat rusty.
Just as her concentration took hold, someone slid into the seat opposite her.
“You don’t like the ribs?”
A gorgeous guy, complete with a sexy Southern accent and a wicked smile, looked at her inquiringly, making her mind stutter for a moment.
“Um, no, they’re wonderful,” she replied, and then saw the shirt he was wearing had the name of the bar stamped over one well-defined pectoral muscle.
“Well, I thought I should check, as you pushed the plate away. I have to make sure customers are satisfied, especially the pretty ones,” he said with a sexy wink, making her laugh.
He was flat-out gorgeous and charming to boot. And flirting with her. Suddenly her blog wasn’t all that interesting.
“Thanks,” she said, cringing inwardly as she wished she was a better flirt.
“My name’s Jarvis,” he said, holding his hand out. “You work nearby? Or are you a student at the university?” He looked at the laptop inquiringly.
She took his hand, finding his grasp pleasant and warm, strong but not smothering. Hannah let him hold on for another second or two, and liked the gentle squeeze he offered at the end.
“Neither. I’m a photojournalist. Well, I want to be one. It was something I wanted to do in college, but never followed through on. So I’m taking a year to travel the country to explore, to...blog. Try to develop, you know, a focus...or something,” she said, realizing she was babbling and stopping before she made a real fool of herself. This guy wasn’t really interested in her life history, she was sure.
“So you’re only passing through?” Jarvis asked with even more pronounced interest this time. Clearly not looking for commitment, which was fine with her.
Hannah was about to respond when a sportscast from one of the televisions positioned all around the bar caught her eye, stealing her attention away from her companion.
Brody.
Supersize on the screen, the stock-car champion’s image still made her catch her breath. Well, former racing champion. It seemed as though there was always something around reminding her of him. A magazine cover, a news item or a fan wearing his number on a T-shirt or on a sticker on their car, even after his retirement six months ago.
She couldn’t hear the story, but the picture they showed was from a year before, shortly after she’d parted ways with him. The headline noted five drivers who had recently left the track.
“You’re into racing?” Jarvis asked, watching her watch Brody.
Hannah tore her gaze from the screen.
“Oh, no, not so much. I... He’s a, um...a friend. But we haven’t seen each other in a while.”
“You keep interesting company.”
Once. Once, she’d kept company for a wild month with Brody Palmer, and it was one of the best experiences of her life. Her only true adventure, ever.
She smiled at Jarvis, trying to get Brody out of her mind.
Hannah didn’t have a whole lot of experience picking up men in bars, or letting them pick her up—but things were different now. Or at least, she wanted them to be.
She focused on Jarvis. He was real, and right here in front of her. Not an image on TV or a memory from the past. Maybe the sexy bartender was exactly what she needed in order to make some new, adventurous memories.
“I planned to leave tomorrow, but I’m flexible,” she said, proud of her own flirtatious innuendo, taking a sip of her beer and peeking at him over the top of her glass.
