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I swallow, fighting a shiver. Goddamn this man. My eyes follow him as he takes a seat opposite me, next to Aaron. His gaze never falls from mine, the connection never breaking, the intensity never wavering.
Sometimes, looking into his eyes is like looking into something I never imagined I could have.
Finally, I pull my eyes from his as the waiter pours us each a glass of wine. He sets the open bottle in an ice bucket at the end of table, and I grab a menu to stop myself from looking back up at Tyler. Perusing it is nowhere near as gorgeous as looking at him, but it beats letting anyone see the blush rising up my neck and flushing my cheeks.
Like, seriously. How does he even have the balls to say shit like that in public?
He knows it’s true. That’s how.
And now I’m thinking about him laying me back on my bed, opening my legs wide, and licking me. Great.
“I bought a bar,” Aaron announces once we’ve ordered.
“So what’s new?” Tyler asks dryly. “With Dad?”
Aaron shakes his head and takes a drink of his wine. “Nope. Outright this time.”
“Wonders will never bloody cease,” Ty mutters fondly.
Dayton rolls her eyes, and I’m half-tempted to join her. These two are more like brothers than cousins.
“And,” Day prompts him.
“And I want you to run it, Liv.”
I’m sorry. What? I choke on my wine and set the glass down. “I’m sorry. What?”
Aaron’s lips twitch on one side. “I’m sorry—wasn’t I clear? You’ll be running it.”
“Hold up.” I lift my hand. “I will be running it? Are we forgetting how to ask people things?”
Dayton snorts. “Yes, Aaron, honey. Remember your manners. We went over this last week.”
I nudge her thigh and she high-fives me beneath the table. So we’re kids at heart. Sue us.
“Hilarious,” Aaron quips. “Let’s try again. Liv, I’ve bought a cocktail bar about two blocks from your apartment. Would you consider running it for me?”
“That’s really not enough to make an informed decision. I need more details.” I lean back in my chair, cross my legs, and look at him over my wine glass.
Holy fuck, is he really offering me to run a bar?
“You spend far too much time with my fiancée.”
“She learned it all from me.” I smile as our dinner is placed in front of us. “You do have more details, right?”
“Stop fucking with him.” Tyler laughs. “Aaron, just tell her everything. Then she’ll shut up. If not, I’ll shut her up.”
My heel connects with his shin.
“Bitch,” he hisses.
I smile sweetly.
“Well,” Aaron begins, a smile teasing his lips, “it’s not a huge building. But there’s a fair-sized bar with a dance floor and plenty of space for tables. I have a designer working on something now—she’ll have it by the weekend—and it should take around three weeks to remodel. I presume that’s enough time to give notice at your current job.”
I swallow my salmon and point my fork in his direction. “I haven’t agreed to anything yet, buddy, and that’s not enough information. Cocktail bar—are we talking mixers? Shots? Getting those guys in who can do those fancy-ass cocktail-shaking routines? Which, by the way, I wouldn’t be averse to. Just putting that out there.”
I can feel Tyler shooting daggers at me across the table.
