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“Won’t you still, though?” Dragging him to all of her commitments would be fun, but it would definitely paint him the perfect portrait of what life was still like in Blue Moon Bay. A life he’d decided wasn’t for him. Bowling and axe-throwing were two of the highlights around town during the week, along with the holiday events. Other than the cinema and the beach and boardwalk, there wasn’t a lot of excitement.
The fair came to town twice a year, but Mitch wasn’t exactly a twelve-year-old adrenaline-seeker, so that feature probably wouldn’t make him want to stick around.
“It’s not that I find Blue Moon Bay boring,” he said slowly. “Just slower paced, but I don’t get to do this whole relaxing thing very often. This will be good for me. And as I said, I just want to spend time with you.” He kissed her hand again and his eyes fell to her lips.
What the hell was he waiting for? She hadn’t even put lipstick on tonight. Her lips were free and clear and his for the taking. She leaned slightly forward. Maybe he just needed a nudge. After all, she had turned him down the night before.
His gaze burned into hers and his grip on her hand tightened as he pulled her closer.
She closed her eyes, her heart pounding in her ears.This is it. Mitch Jameson is about to kiss me…
Tap.Tap.
Jessica jumped and Mitch released her hand and pulled back. Turning, she saw Trent at the window. “Hey! Ready to raise some—” He stopped at her murderous stare.
She widened her eyes and cocked her head toward Mitch, hoping Trent understood what she wasn’t saying out loud.
He looked past her into the car and, seeing Mitch, gave a little wave. “Oops, sorry—I’ll see you inside.” Trent quickly walked off.
“Who’s that?” Mitch said.
Jessica grinned, detecting the slightest note of jealousy in Mitch’s voice as she turned back to face him. Trent was six foot five and two hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle, tattoos covering 70 percent of his body—he was intimidating to most men, to say the least. “That’s my cousin, Trent,” she said. “He owns the bar on Main Street and the one inside the multiplex.”
Mitch touched her cheek. “Thank God. He’s huge. I wouldnothave wanted to compete with that dude,” he said.
“In bowling?”
“No, for your attention.”
Was it possible to smile too much? Was too much happiness a thing? Mitch was like an addiction—the more of him she got, the more she craved. And she didn’t want to come down from this high anytime soon. “There’d be no contest,” she said.
…
Her cousin and self-designated bullshit detector, Trent, eyed him as he waited for the round of drinks at the bar. Mitch shifted from one leg to the other and readjusted his glasses, feeling the giant man’s unyielding gaze on the side of his face as he leaned against the bar. Tattoo sleeves covered both the guy’s arms, and the tight T-shirt he wore clung to chest and shoulder muscles that would make The Rock jealous.
Jessica had made the introductions when they’d entered, but he sensed there was more info Trent was bent on finding out.
He tapped his fingers nervously against the bar to the tune of some Justin Bieber holiday song playing on the overhead and surveyed the decorated space. The bar/bowling alley could compete with his mom for the most holiday spirit. Strands of light garland were draped along every surface, and oversize red, green, and gold baubles hung from the ceiling. Reindeer centerpieces sat on every table, and a big rotating Christmas tree was set up in the corner near an old jukebox. Even the bartender and waitstaff were sporting elf costumes. It had been so long since he’d celebrated the season, he’d forgotten how much his hometown really got into the festivities.
Unfortunately, Trent didn’t look so holly jolly as he continued to silently assess whether or not Mitch was worthy of his cousin’s time.
“Mitch, right?” he finally asked while filling a pint glass.
“Yes. I’m Lia’s older brother.” He seemed to feel he needed that info to validate his hanging around, even though Lia wasn’t in town yet.
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-nine. I’ll be forty in February.”
“Jessica is twenty-nine.”
“I’m aware.” She’d said the age difference didn’t bother her. It certainly didn’t bother him. Would her friends find it odd that she was dating an older guy? They hadn’t really discussed previous relationships or whether or not he was her usual type. It didn’t really matter.
“And you’re single?” Trent pressed.
He sighed. “I wouldn’t be dating Jess if I wasn’t.” Was he overstepping with the word “dating”? Relationships were a lot more complicated these days. What term would she have used? Seeing one another? Hanging out?
Trent shrugged. “Not like it hasn’t happened before that some jerk thought he could get away with using her as a sidepiece without her knowing.”
