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She smiled as she turned away, slipping out of her shoes and leaving them by the door. Her toes were painted a dark ruby red, and I couldn’t take my eyes off them. “You always were good at flattery.”
My compliment had been entirely genuine, but it was probably for the best if she wrote it off as insincere bullshit.
I watched her set her purse down and shrug out of her denim jacket, exposing thin straps that bared her shoulders. She was all swaying hips and breasts in that thin fucking dress. And she definitely wasn’t wearing a bra.Jesus Murphy.
I needed to get myself in hand. Literally, once she was gone, or else my dick was going to explode. But for now, I needed to cool the hell off and stop ogling her like a horny teenager.
Slow and purposeful, I inhaled a breath through my nose and blew it out through my mouth. We were friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S. That meant no messing around. She was like a work colleague. Totally off-limits.
“So…” Her eyebrows raised as she turned to face me again. “I was promised a Manhattan?”
“Right. Yeah. Coming right up.”
Tess trailed me into the kitchen, and I got to work making our drinks. It was a relief to have something to focus on besides her, but I was acutely conscious of her eyes on me as I got out the ingredients.
“You really do have a lot of alcohol,” she observed.
I nodded as I measured shots of rye whiskey into the shaker. “I get a lot for Christmas every year from clients and coworkers. More than I can drink. Or more than I should drink, anyway.”
Her hip rested against the counter as her fingernails tapped on the granite surface. They were painted the same dark red as her toes. Not that I was looking. I was way too busy paying attention to the drinks I was making. I definitely had not just accidentally added too much vermouth.Shit.
“Would you mind grabbing an orange from the fridge?” I asked.
“Sure thing.”
I was proud of myself for not glancing around to watch her bend over to open the produce drawer. Even though I could imagine what an incredible sight it must be in that dress, with the soft T-shirt fabric clinging to her backside.
“Here.” An orange appeared on the counter beside me with Tess’s red fingernails curled around it.
“Thanks.” I capped the shaker and pushed it toward her. “Like to do the honors?”
Because I was a good boy, I did not let my eyes slide over to watch her breasts jiggle while she shook the Manhattans. Instead, I grabbed a paring knife and concentrated on cutting two twists off the orange. No leering or gawking here.Look at me, doing this friends thing right. Someone should give me a fucking gold star.
“Impressive,” she murmured when I’d produced two perfect strips of orange peel. “Where’d you learn to do that so well?”
“Worked as a barback one summer in college.” I poured the Manhattans into two cocktail glasses. For the finishing touch, I expressed the citrus oil from the peels before dropping them into the drinks. “Picked up all kinds of handy skills.”
“Oh yeah? Such as?”
“Making the perfect Manhattan, for one—as well as pretty much anything else you might want to drink.” I slid one of the glasses toward her and picked up the other. “But also, washing glasses, mopping floors, and cleaning toilets.”
A flash of amusement in her eyes made my stomach tighten. “Those are handy skills.”
“Cheers.” I tapped the rim of my glass against hers. Instead of taking a sip of my drink, I watched Tess taste hers, unable to drag my gaze from her lips. “Pretty fucking good, right?”
“It’s excellent.” She smiled at me over the rim of her glass. “You swear an awful lot for a fancy corporate lawyer.”
I grimaced. “Yeah, I know. I’ve always had a dirty mouth.”
“I remember.”
She probably hadn’t meant it as a double entendre, but that was where my mind went anyway. Because of course, it did. And now I could feel my ears getting hot, which meant I was blushing.
Tess’s lips twitched into a smirk as she watched me knock back an imprudently large gulp of my drink. Okay, so maybe she had meant it that way.Damn.
Lifting her glass, she took a leisurely sip, her eyes never leaving mine. “So is this your signature move? Do you invite a lot of women up here and woo them with your Manhattan-making skills?”
“You’re assuming I have moves.”
