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I smack my lips after swallowing. “Wow, this is delicious. What’s in it?”
Garrett straightens to his full height, appearing pleased with my praise. “Booze.”
A brow quirks at his basic explanation. “And?”
“Fruity shit,” he mumbles.
“Whoa,” I note dryly. “If I didn’t already have one, I’d order another from that endorsement alone.”
“How’s the girth for you?”
Precious liquor dribbles down my chin when I choke on his question. “Excuse me?”
“Does that width satisfy your needs?” He points at the straw pinched between my fingers.
It’s only then I notice the size. “Did you give me such a big one on purpose?”
Lust pools in his eyes. “I did.”
Warmth spreads through my veins, which has little to do with the alcoholic contents in this glass. “The hole is very adequate. Shoots a lot in my mouth at once. I don’t have to suck that hard. Just keeps coming.”
He curses under his breath. “Damn, that backfired.”
“Now you’re thinking about me sucking on something else, huh?”
His groan is pained. “Don’t tease me, woman.”
I stick out my bottom lip purely for his benefit. “You brought this on yourself.”
“Hey, Fuckable Foster. I need you,” a feminine voice croons from a spot down the rail.
Garrett turns toward the greeting, a charming smile already plastered on his lips. “Hey, sweetheart.”
My stomach curdles at the familiar—and apparently frequently distributed—nickname. It’s another much-needed reminder that I’m nothing more to him than one of the many. In truth, I’m probably even less valuable since I won’t sleep with him. Shame is quick to slam down on me. It’s unfair to judge my new friend when he’s been nothing but considerate.
“Give me a moment, yeah?”
It takes me several seconds to realize Garrett is talking to me. “Do your job, sweetheart.”
He chuckles at what I thought was clever petulance. “Don’t miss me too much.”
An equally witty response evades me. Instead, I watch him strut toward the woman who beckoned. She’s skinny and blonde and everything else I’m not. Their exchange is an even flow, revealing the comfort between them. Garrett spoils her with shallow compliments that I’ve witnessed him pay to countless others. Her fingers dance along his inked forearm while she absorbs every word.
The scene creeps along my skin in a torturous crawl better reserved for spiders. My mood sours with each passing moment. It’s an irrational reaction, and more disappointing than I care to admit.
I wrench my gaze off their flirtations to scan the rest of the bar. Cheerful voices serenade the relaxed atmosphere. To my surprise, half of the tables are occupied. Others stand in clumps to mingle and circulate freely. The influx in attendance went unnoticed thanks to my fascination with an unavailable bachelor. Time to fix that.
My true purpose begins to search for a spark in the growing crowd. Men create a large majority similar to my first visit to Roosters. Maybe there’s some truth to Joy’s claim after all. Restored confidence thrums through me as I swivel on my stool to evaluate the potential.
“Find anyone yet?”
I peek over my shoulder at Garrett’s reappearance. “Maybe.”
“Which one?” He pauses to inspect his customers like matchmaking is a top priority.
“Aren’t your services required elsewhere? You looked busy.” My head tilts in the blonde’s direction.
He doesn’t spare her a glance to catch the daggers she’s aiming at me. “Nah, Harper has this section covered. My attention is solely focused on this task.”
