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He hangs up and winks.
I try not to be enchanted, turning sideways to slide past him. “Shoot me a text and let me know your availability.”
“I already know my availability,” he says as he follows me to the door. “I have tomorrow night off, then the night after that I have a home game. We can go out tomorrow, or I’ll get you a ticket to the game on Thursday, and we can go out after.”
“I have to work,” I reply automatically, reaching for the doorknob. Because I’m here almost every night.
“But do you really?” he asks, nabbing my hand before I can open the door. “You’re the owner. I’m sure you can find someone to cover for you.”
I’m not about to get into it with him that I pour so much of myself into this business, so I don’t have to put myself in the dating world. My mom abandoning me might have left an indelible mark, making me wary with more than a few trust issues. Instead, I merely say, “Let me look at the schedule, and I’ll let you know.”
I turn for the door again, but Hendrix pulls me back until my attention is on him. “Is it too forward if I kiss you?”
Cocking an eyebrow at him, I say, “That’s pretty vanilla to ask permission, especially when not but two minutes ago, you were promising you could make me scream.”
Hendrix laughs, pulls my hand to his mouth, and brushes his lips over my knuckles. “I know. I like keeping you off-balance.”
He releases my hand, reaches past me to the door, and opens it. Hendrix motions me through and I precede him out. Once the door is closed, he bends down to put his mouth near my ear. “It has been a real pleasure getting to know you tonight, Stevie.”
I shiver over the way he rolls out the word pleasure like it’s a promise.
Then he walks away without a backward glance.
Shaking my head in equal parts amusement and consternation since that didn’t go at all how I’d planned, I move back behind the bar.
My dad stares at me with one eyebrow lifted. “I don’t like him.”
“Why not?” I ask, grabbing his empty mug and moving to the tap to pour another.
When I return it to him, he says, “He’s too pretty.”
My gaze moves past my dad’s shoulder back to Hendrix, now talking to Stone and Harlow. I wonder if he’s telling them what went down in the storeroom.
Turning my regard back to my dad, I say, “He’s not too pretty.”
He’s actually remarkably handsome with his dark shaggy hair that looks windswept, expressive brown eyes, and lips that are too full to be disregarded. I wonder what they’d feel like, and the bad girl inside me thinks I might learn the answer to that question.
My dad twists his neck to look over his shoulder, stares at the players for a moment, and then looks back to me. “Did he make a move on you in the storage room? Because I could rearrange some parts of his face.”
Leaning over the bar, I pat my dad’s arm. “You’re cute. And no, he was a perfect gentleman.”
Although if he knew the promises Hendrix made that involved screaming, my dad would kill him right now.
“Are you going out with him?”
“I agreed to a date.”
“You let him know that I have lots of guns and I have broken men’s bones before.”
“I’ll let him know,” I promise with a smile.
CHAPTER 4
Hendrix
Stevie sips her water and I take that moment to study her in the candlelight dancing across her face. She sure looks different from last night. Gone is the Harley tank top, and in its place is a black fuzzy sweater. Still wearing jeans, but these are dark and paired with high-heeled boots rather than her biker boots. The eye makeup isn’t as dark and dramatic, but her slate-colored eyes are just as mesmerizing.
In fact, it’s like a lighter version of the rocker chick, and I like it just as much.
“Why are you staring at me?” she asks, taking the folded linen napkin and placing it on her lap. Her fingernails still sport the black polish, but she’s wearing a delicate silver ring set with an amethyst stone on her middle right finger. It’s feminine and flirty.
“Just noticing the subtle changes between bar owner Stevie and date-night Stevie.”
“What can I say?” she quips, shifting in her chair to cross one leg over the other. “I’m multifaceted.”
“I could’ve told you that before I even picked you up tonight and first saw the changes, but moving along to my next observation… I wasn’t prepared for your bear of a dad to open the door when I picked you up.”
Stevie laughs, smoky and deep. “He was there installing a new ceiling fan in the bedroom, and it’s funny you call him a bear because that’s his nickname.”
