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It warmed me to my gut knowing that I ordered her something that tasted good.
I shrugged. “There’s not much to tell.”
She waved me off. “That’s not true at all. I can tell that you’re not from around here, so what brings you to this small city.”
“I could say the same thing about you.”
“Huh?” Her brow furrowed and I couldn’t help thinking she was a mixture of cute and lethal.
“You aren’t from around here either,” I clarified. “You came in here wearing that dress when everyone else is in jeans and crop-tops. If you were more familiar with the area, you would know that this wasn’t a dressy bar.”
“You are wearing a suit, sir. It may not be three pieces, but it sticks out like a sore thumb.”
I barely heard the rest of what she said after she called me sir. Goddamn. Hearing a woman call me that always got me going. I wanted to bend her over right here and pull that dress up, stick my cock in her ass, and make her scream.
Patience,I cautioned myself. Now was not the time. I had to be sweet. I needed her to keep her guard down, at least for the moment.
“You’d be right. I’m from Russia.” I kept my answer short. There was no point giving her information that she didn’t need. People have died for far less in my world.
“Born and raised?”
I nodded and took my own pull on the disgusting American draft I’d ordered.
“Now you,” I said.
“Hit me.”
With pleasure.“What’s a beautiful woman like you doing in a dive bar like this alone on a Friday night.”
Her shoulders rose toward her earlobes. “I wanted to forget.”
I couldn’t help being intrigued. “Forget what?”
She laughed, but it came out too bitter. “What else but life.”
Ah, so she had troubles in her daily life, and this was her escape.
“Alcohol isn’t the answer.” I gulped down another mouthful of my beer.
She pointed at me. “Pot meets kettle.”
Confused, I had to ask, “What does that mean?”
She sighed. “It’s a saying.”
I nodded. “Okay. That means what exactly?”
“It’s when you point out that the person is doing the same thing. For example, a pot and a kettle are cast iron and also black. So, if the pot calls the kettle black, the kettle would be all like, what the fuck, we are the same. You get it?” She let out a brief hiccup as her words ran together.
I didn’t want to look like an imbecile, so I gave her my winning smile and accepted her odd phrasing.
“Next question. Are you seeing anyone?” she asked.
She was a bold one.
“I wouldn’t be sitting here with you if I was.” I honestly replied.
It was true. Right now, I had my sights set on one beautiful incubator, and there wasn’t another one in this world that could take my eyes off of her.
