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He gave a loose shrug. “Well, sure. We get into pretty much anything involving boobies.”
“Huh,” B.J. said again, still staring at him as if she feared his head might fall off and roll across the floor next. From the way he felt, the idea didn’t seem too farfetched. “You’re rip-roaring drunk, aren’t you, Gerhardt?”
Cooper nodded sadly. “Pretty much.”
The waitress slid up beside him. “Hey, sugar. Need another refill yet?”
“Na, I’m good.” He cast a curious look at B.J. “You?” When she shook her head, he gave the waitress a messy grin. “We’re good.”
Ignoring B.J., Nan smiled back at him, leaning closer and lowering the timbre of her voice as she answered. “Well, y’all let me know if you need anything, ya hear?”
He lifted his hand in a careless wave. “Yeah. Thanks, Nan.”
As she strolled away, he and B.J. stared after her until B.J. swung around to arch her eyebrows. “She was totally coming onto you.”
“What?” Cooper frowned, then leaned back behind B.J. to glance after the waitress again. She was kind of putting an extra pop to her hips.
“She wants to crawl inside your pants with you,” B.J. charged.
“No…” But when he swiveled his attention back to Nan, she met his gaze and smiled, fluttering her fingers at him in a flirtatious wave. He shuddered and zipped his attention to B.J. “You think?”
B.J. nodded. “Oh yeah.”
“Oh, God,” he uttered.
He swallowed and felt slightly sick to his stomach. He’d craved feminine companionship since the moment he’d pushed Jo Ellen out of his life. But he craved companionship with only one woman. And Nan Lundy was not that woman.
“So, you’re not interested in hitting that or what?” B.J. demanded, sounding more than just a little curious.
He focused on the tomboy. Why did she care if he returned the waitress’s interest or not? “Uh…No. Sorry.”
Her face brightened. “Great. Because I already had plans for her.”
Eyes widening, Cooper gaped at B.J. She’d always been a tomboy, sure, but for some reason he’d never figured she swung that way. Strange.
Then she threw him for another loop when she didn’t lay claim on Nan for herself, but called across the room, “Hey, Ralphie. Get your ass over here.”
Ralphie dutifully trooped forward. “What’s up, B.J.?”
Setting her forearm on top of Coop’s shoulder, she motioned toward the waitress who was sneaking another glance their way. “Nan over there was just asking about you. She thinks you’re pretty cute.”
Smardo’s eyes bulged. “Really?” Ogling Nan, he blushed when she smiled in their direction…at Cooper. “Holy shit,” he breathed. He turned to Coop and demanded. “What’d she ask about me?”
When B.J. kicked him under the bar, Coop sputtered. “Uh, she…she said you seemed…sweet.”
B.J. sent him a look to tell him sweet was not the word to use, but Ralphie didn’t seem to care. “Sweet?” he repeated reverently.
“Yeah.” B.J. shoved him in Nan’s direction. “She wanted to know if you had yourself a woman or not. So, why don’t you mosey over there and talk to her, you ol’ sweetie pie, you? Show her how available you are.”
As soon as he stumbled away, hurrying after Nan who’d just moved to another table, B.J. whirled back to Cooper. “Sweet?”
He shrugged. “What?” He thought he’d done just fine on the spur of the moment like that, and as drunk as he was.
She rolled her eyes. “From what freaking lame hole did you pull out the word sweet? My cousin’s grandma is sweet. Guys don’t want to be called sweet. Jesus Christ, Gerhardt, no wonder why you’re having woman troubles.”
“What?” he said again. “It’s better than nice.”
With a sigh, she slumped onto the barstool beside him. “You still could’ve come up with something more than sweet.”
