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“Oh, no,” his cheeks colored. “She advised against repeating it. At the risk of betraying my age, I think I ought to listen to her.”
I set my beer down. “Well, now I have to know, I’m too invested. Let me give you a second opinion, no judgement, I swear.” I beamed at him, and his gaze darted to my mouth.
Jake licked his lips. “I’m not sure…”
“I insist,” I pressed him. “I really don’t feel you got a fair shot with Alyssa. Try me.”
Heaving a sigh, he replied, “Okay. It’s really not that funny and now I feel like an idiot. We’ve made too big of a deal about it already.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Hit me with it. I’ll buy you a drink if I hate it.”
“It’s open bar,” he replied with a small curl of his lips.
“Then I’ll buy you a drink either way. What have you got to lose?”
Finally cracking a smile, he chuckled. “It’s seriously not that big a deal. I was helping her bring in the food, and she offered to introduce me to a few people before she left. I told her it wasn’t necessary, that I’d just tell anyone who asked what I was doing here that I carried a watermelon.” He tipped his beer back and finished it. “I’ll take another of these, and a shot of jack, since you’re buying.”
The laughter rose in my throat and tumbled out. “Carried a watermelon, like from Dirty Dancing? No I get it, that’s clever.” I put in the order for two shots and another beer, then turned back to catch the pleased grin melt from his lips.
“But if you’re Baby, then what does that make me?” I ducked my chin and smiled at him suggestively. “Am I Johnny?”
“Well, I’m glad you get it. Alyssa acted as if she’d never seen Dirty Dancing before. It made me feel old.”
“Of course I do. It was one of my mom’s favorite movies.” As soon as the words came out, I realized what I’d said, but Jake just laughed.
“Well, I guess it’s official: if you’re comparing me to your mom, Iamold. Where is that shot, anyway? It’s past my elderly bedtime. I should head back to the old folk’s home.”
“Stop!” I laughed, pressing a palm to his muscular biceps. “There’s no way you’re that old. You can’t be more than a couple of years older than me.”
“Okay, I’m probably not as old as your mom. But I don’t know how old you are, so I can’t comment on our age difference.”
“Is that your roundabout way of asking my age? You know a lady never tells,” I sniffed, pretending to be affronted. Erik arrived with our drinks and I pushed his shot over. “At least not first.”
“I see, so I go, you go, is that it?” He eyed me with one brow raised. “Fine. I’m thirty-five. Your turn.” He lifted the shot and waited, a playful gleam in his dark eyes.
“Fair enough.” I lifted my own shot. “You’re six years older than me, so definitely not mom-range.” I clinked my glass to his, and we both downed the alcohol together. His eyes never left mine, and my hand shook slightly as I lowered the glass. The burning sensation ran down my throat, heating my body from the inside out.
He may not be in mom range, but he was definitely in the safe zone. Not one of the younger seasonal employees, and since I knew about all the hires in my department, definitely not someone I’d have to worry about being an issue at work. Dad frowned on me getting too close to our employees—particularly the younger ones—but Jake was an opportunity too delicious to pass up. He had that sexy ‘older man who knows what he’s doing’ vibe that was hard to resist, and he clearly worked in another part of the business—totally fair game.
“Come on,” I scooped my beer with one hand and tugged on his hand with the other. “This bar can hold itself up without your help. Let’s go dance.”
His head shook back and forth vehemently. “Nah, I’m way past my dancing days. In fact, I should go find my walker. I think I left it somewhere next to my oxygen tank.”
“Quit!” His self-deprecating humor was surprising, given the confident man-in-charge aura he presented. “If you keep insisting you’re old, that means I’m basically old, and I believe you’re only as old as you feel.”
“Well then, according to my knees, I’m sixty-two.”
That drew another chuckle from my lips, and I didn’t miss his gratified expression. Despite his resistance, he was enjoying our banter.
“Fine, I know what’s going on here,” I sniffed, leaning across the bar to signal Erik yet again.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“You’re too sober. A little more liquid courage will be just the thing.” I ordered us another round of shots and turned back to catch his eyes raking over my body with his lip between his teeth.
Realizing I caught him staring, his gaze met mine with an expression I could only describe as ‘guilty schoolboy’, and somehow it was all the hotter on this grown man.
A slow smile spread across his lips. “I could be mistaken, ma’am, but I believe you’re trying to get me drunk.”
