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“Oh, presentation for sure. For taste, I need a good whiskey.”
“We can do that. And the wild card?”
“I don’t know. What do you think?” She hops up on the bar, her bare feet swinging.
I focus in on her blue-tipped toes like I’m under a hypnotist’s spell. Her legs are slender, a touch pink from being out in the sun. So are her shoulders.
Right. Because she’s a tourist. Who will certainly be gone within a day or two.
I shake my foggy thoughts free. “Let’s get some fresh fruits. Pineapple, coconuts we can use for cups. Things like that. We can brainstorm what to use them for at the farmers’ market.”
“I like that. Before we buy things, you sure you don’t have a good whiskey?”
“I don’t get much call for straight whiskey, but I can dig a little deeper to be sure.”
I kneel in front of the bottles, Tillie’s legs still swinging mere inches from my face.
I’m not going to obsess over them.
Really. I’m not.
Chapter 7
TILLIE
Gabe is into me.
Not in any emotional way. I’m not looking for that, anyhow, certainly not with a stranger from another country. But his interest is as clear as his traitorous gaze that keeps taking me in.
So, this begs a question.
Do I want a fling during my vacation?
Maybe. Especially since we clash so spectacularly. It’ll be hot, burn itself out, and then I go home.
Works for me.
Gabe bends low, moving bottles around, and I admire the way his blue shirt stretches over his back. The muscles in his shoulders shift and bulge.
Yeah. I’m into him.
And I’ve got some time on my hands.
Lila, Rosie, and I took two weeks off for La Jarra. We’ve never been anywhere and are too poor for trips like this. But Drew got us this condo and stocked the kitchen with groceries. So we’re making the most of it.
We have a few excursions planned, ones that work with Rosie. Finding starfish. Petting turtles.
Mostly, we’re hanging out on the beach.
The same beach as Gabe’s bar.
I’m not opposed to mixing a little bartending with pleasure.
He emerges from the shelves. He works so hard to avoid looking at my legs that he bangs his head on the edge of the counter.
I reach out for him. “You okay?”
He nods, running his hand over his scalp. He hands me a bottle.
