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Fully aware of my beet red cheeks, I take the stool beside him. “Thank you,” I mumble.
“Did you say something?”
I am about to repeat myself when I see the small smile playing on his face. “Let’s not get too cocky.”
“Like you were?” His smile stretches.
“I slipped! Not connected to my skills with a boat.”
“Sure.” He slides a glass towards me. “Take this. Your hands are still shaking.”
The alcohol leaves a hot trail down my throat. The warmth is necessary. We sit in awkward silence for a minute before the bartender suddenly stretches and groans.
“Done for the night,” he tells my drinking partner. “Think you can close up?”
“Sure, good night George.”
I turn to him once the bartender leaves. “You work here?”
He cocks his head. “Something like that. I’m close with the owner.”
That explains his arrogance; any friend of Jake must be just as cocky as him. They do say birds of a feather flock together.
“What about you? Here on vacation?”
“Hmm today, yes. Tomorrow I get serious,” I say, staring down at my already empty glass. Almost on cue, he reaches for the bottle and refills my glass. I smile at him in gratitude.
“What kind of work?” he asks.
“I’m not about to tell a stranger details about my life, especially one giving such vague replies.”
He smiles and raises his glass to me. “Let’s focus on getting warm then.”
Three drinks later and I can feel my inhibitions giving way. I should leave before I get too drunk. “I’m going to call it a night.” I move to leave but he places his hand on my thighs. “You shouldn’t do that.”
He removes his hand. “Don’t go yet. The night is still young.”
“That sounds like the start of an irresponsible decision,” I giggle and stop immediately. What was that?
His eyes rake my body again. “I doubt I’d have any regrets,” he mumbles in a low voice that sends chills down my spine.Leave now, Bella.
“Besides, we haven’t emptied the bottle.” He reaches for the half empty bottle and pours himself a drink before offering it to me.
“Pretty sure I’ve reached my limit,” but I raise my glass for him to fill. I take that chance to study his features. He has hair as black as midnight with an aquiline nose to match his piercing blue eyes. He has startlingly pink puckered lips. Though he is wearing a shirt, his body is not left to my imagination, a sculpted chest and thick arms covered in tattoos.
“You have so many tattoos,” I find myself saying.
“In more places than you know,” he smirks. “And you have cute dimples.”
My face flushes red. “Are you flirting with me?”
He stares at me before replying. “Depends on your response.”
“I don’t know you and I think I’m drunk,” I reply. He makes a deep throaty laugh and I squeeze my thighs together. I bite my lips at the images flashing through my head.
“Ditto, but if you keep biting your lip like that I don’t think that’s going to matter anymore.”
“Maybe…it shouldn’t matter.” Against my better judgment screaming at me to get the hell out of there, I reach out and lead his hand back to my thigh. “You have shockingly pink lips.”
