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The stranger chuckled and the sound tickled Tess’s stomach.
Whoa, girl.
“True,” she said, pulling her own drink toward her. Ron made her gin gimlet just as she liked it—simple syrup, muddled cucumber, tarragon and Hendrick’s. Delish. “When it comes to flirting, you’re the don.”
“Ron the Don? Sounds like a wrestler.” The stranger quirked an eyebrow. He turned toward her allowing his gaze to travel lightly over her. A shiver ran through her. Dear Bessie, he had the prettiest blue eyes that would exactly match the bathroom rug her Granny B had spent eons searching for. Good humor twinkled in the periwinkle depths, and Tess felt more than the warmth of the gin in her girl parts.
Dang, he looked good enough to sop up a biscuit, and Tess didn’t even eat biscuits. Carbs were the enemy, after all, but this man made her want to change her mind.
“What brings you to Pete’s? We don’t get much tourist traffic,” Ron asked, pouring a generous amount of whiskey into the tumbler then topping it with soda.
“Job interview. Someone at the company mentioned this place when I said I wanted a local pub.” The man pulled the drink to him, sipped and nodded in satisfaction.
“Really?” Ron said, swiping at the bar with a towel and sliding a surprised look at Tess, keeping her in the conversation. “Good to know we’re getting recommendations around here.”
The stranger made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded like an agreement, and Tess sipped her drink, trying not to out-and-out stare at the hotness mere feet from her. She had to be ovulating because her hormones had shifted into overdrive and clamored for her to put on some lipstick and slide closer.
She ignored her hormones because they made bad decisions. In fact, last time they’d led her to a strange bed, overly polite note, and a cold cup of coffee the morning after.
Tess had stopped letting her girl parts dictate her love life.
The man glanced at the TV that was broadcasting something with racing dirt bikes. “Any way I can talk you into turning to the Rangers game? Wanna check the score.”
Ron looked like someone had farted. “Hockey?”
“Nah, baseball. Preseason.”
Despite her declaration to keep her distance, Tess slid onto the next stool. “Feliz is pitching. They’re checking out his arm after rehab.” The man smiled at her.
God, his smile was good.
No, not good. Sexy. And not just sexy but up-against-a-wall-naked sexy. Tess was certain she’d seen such a smile only twice… and the aftereffects had resulted in its moniker. Though up-against-the-wall-naked sex wasn’t as hot as it sounded. Required a lot of balance.
“Ugh, baseball?” Ron groaned but lifted the remote. “The only thing good about baseball is the way the players look in those tight pants.”
“I’ll concede that point,” Tess said, dragging her purse over, telling herself she moved closer to the man only because it gave her a better view of the TV.
“That’s what all the ladies say,” the stranger said. So was that a message to Ron? Or to her? “And, uh, I guess some guys.”
Ron found the right station. Texas was up 5–2 in the third inning. The Rangers’ designated hitter was at the plate, swinging and missing at low and inside.
“Shamburg’s gonna throw that pitch at him all night,” Tess said.
“A lady who knows baseball.” The man looked pleased at the revelation. But, really, there were lots of girls who liked baseball. Okay, maybe not lots. But others.
“I’m not obsessed but I watch.”
Ron nodded. “Yeah, she keeps stats.”
The stranger raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“I like the Astros best,” she said, tugging a notebook out of her purse. “I’ve gotten into a habit of studying batting averages and making predictions. My brother was a bookie during his college years and paid me to help him. Old habits die hard… and now I like the whole challenge of dissecting the game.”
“Bookie? Does he still—”
“Nah, he’s a priest.”
The man’s laughter made her stomach twitch. He looked even better laughing and the bar lights caught the rain droplets in his dark hair. Her hand rose to wipe them away, but she caught herself in time and instead lifted the pen, jotting down the starting pitcher and his ERA.
