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I’ve known Jameson almost my entire life. But we don’t spend a lot of time hanging out, just the two of us. I’ve always been tight with all the Waters boys, but I was always Jacks’ friend. I know Jarret better because he’s the next oldest, besides being a grumpy asshole. And Jasper obviously because he’s the most outgoing, even if he spent years overseas doing stuff in the military that I never want to know about. I’m just grateful he’s home safe now. Jensen is quiet and grumpy, but secretly a sweetie. And Jameson is the kid brother who was always tagging around behind everyone, easygoing and cracking jokes. He was the little shit-disturber always getting away with everything.
I suppose if I was forced into it, I could admit that Jameson’s all grown up now. That he’s tall and handsome. With dark brown hair and the prettiest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, just like the rest of his brothers. All the Waters boys are hot. And the cocky grin that’s always on his face? I mean, it’s adorable. But he’s just… Jameson.
“So…” Jameson answers back.
“How did you know what my favorite drink is?”
“How could I not know what your favorite drink is? You always get the same thing.”
“Why do you know that?” I ask and then shrug. I don’t really care how he knows it, because it doesn’t matter. Jameson is my best friend’s little brother. We’re around each other all the time. Of course, he’s seen me order this same drink before. Probably dozens of times. “It’s my favorite. I’m a tequila girlie.”
And as much as I love my tequila, I will forever be just a little bit sad that I grew up to drink fruity little drinks and not shoot whiskey like I always planned.
“I remember, Lemon.” The way he says it, slowly, his voice extra deep tells me exactly what he remembers.
The time I drunkenly did a body shot of tequila right off of his stomach because he was standing the closest to me when I reached out to grab someone—anyone—after Gunnar didn’t sound too excited about the thought of me licking him. My feelings were hurt, so I made a big show of licking the salt off of Jameson’s abs and sucking the lime out of his mouth. Not my most mature behavior, and an incident best left in the distant past. How long ago does something have to be to qualify as the distant past? The body shot incident was only a couple of months ago.
Jameson reminding me of that night deserves another over-the-top eye roll. “Funny, I don’t.”
“No?”
“No. So, what was the plan here? You bought me a drink. Now what?” I ask, expectantly. “Can I get back to my night, or…?”
“And what exactly was your night going to include?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Trolling around the bar trying to meet someone better than my TumbleWed date?”
“Not happening.”
“Rude. I know it’s unlikely, but I can at least try. I got all dressed up for this, and I practically won the lottery booking the one taxi in Western Springs so I could have a few drinks tonight.”
“You don’t need to troll the Goldrush for men. You’ve got me right here. And I’m a hell of a lot better option than that piece of shit grazing your tits and pretending it was an accident or any of the other guys in this bar. If I’m touching your tits, it won’t be an accident, babe.”
It’s a good thing Jameson’s not sitting across the table from me. Because I do a spit-take and send a mouthful of tequila soda across the table and onto the barstool and wall on the other side.
“You’re never touching my boobs!”
When Jameson takes a big swig of his beer, I can’t look away from the way his forearm flexes as he lifts the bottle or from the way his Adam’s apple bobs and his throat muscles work as he swallows. “Night’s still young, so I guess we’ll see about that.”
“You wouldn’t even know what to do with me, kid.”
“Try me.”
“Oh, please! Who are you tonight? Stop fake hitting on me or whatever you’re doing and tell me how everyone is at the farm?”
“Everyone’s fine. Violet misses you.”
“I saw her this afternoon.”
Violet was found half-starved and abandoned at the edge of town when I was thirteen. I brought her home with me from the Western Springs Animal Shelter and never looked back. She’s my best girl, and I’ve loved her more every single day than the one before. We couldn’t keep a horse in town, so she’s lived out at the Waters’ farm ever since then. I go out there almost every day to take care of her, and the Waters boys—including Jameson—fill in for me the rest of the time.
“She still misses you. I brushed her out for you this afternoon after work. She was looking real pretty when I left. Just like her mama.”
“Seriously, what is going on with you tonight? Is this how much you hit on other women? No wonder you have so many little girlies after you.”
“I don’t need to hit on any of them this much, Lemon. Shit, this is the hardest I’ve had to work since I grew facial hair.”
That makes me grin up at him. “Remember those scraggly little whiskers you had on your upper lip for like a year before you actually needed to shave? You were so proud of them. It was adorable.”
