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Shane shrugged. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”
“No wonder you have to hold down two jobs,” Tad sniped to Conor. “You suck at being a bartender.”
Conor gifted them a devilish grin and sauntered off to salvage his customer base. Tad’s neck prickled with the heat of Shane’s stare.
“What’s going on, dude?”
I don’t know.He should be thinking about his opening in a week. About how he should have been nicer to that reviewer fromTasty Chicago. About how he should have banged her in the office, made good on the expectation she had the minute she walked in that door.
“Jules is a friend,” he said to Shane through gritted teeth.
“And?”
“And,” he dragged out, “in another lifetime or if I was a different person, maybe I’d make a play for her.”
“If you were a different person? You’re sounding a bit sad, man. Do we need to go deeper here?” Shane rubbed an imaginary beard and scrunched up his eyes in mock consideration. “Tell me about your dreams,” he said in a terrible German accent.
Christ, give him strength.
“In these dreams, are you wearing dee frocks? Are dee penises involved? Are there women with dee penises?”
“Bite me,” Tad said, unable to restrain his laugh, uncomfortable as it was. He took a long slug of his beer and set the bottle down carefully. “I’ve been with a lot of women, Shane. A lot. I’m hardwired to play the field.” Maybe not so much lately, but it would come. Jesus, it had to. “I’m not interested in settling down, and that’s what Jules and Evan need. Stability and family.”
So what if during those precious moments with her and Evan, the crushing pain he felt over his parents’ passing and the shameful part he’d played in it seemed to weigh less? But it would never ease up enough to want to use her as a crutch for the hard times. She deserved a guy who didn’t turn everything he touched to shit.
Shane stood up and drained his beer. “From the way she was talking today, she’s not so interested in settling down just yet either.”
Alarm streaked through him. “I thought you said she was just saying it to rile Jack up.”
“Yeah, but she sure didn’t object when my lovely wife put a ton of guys into the Fling pile. Looks like she’s going to work on that list first, then move onto the Ring pile.”
“The what?”
“You know, a hot hook-up versus finding the one. There’s a complex points system in development.”
Tad had no idea which was worse: Jules having a meaningless affair or Jules meeting the love of her life. The first one. No, the second one.
Goddamn it.
Shane threw a twenty down on the bar, his work as the Grim Reaper of Tad’s heart done. “I’m off home. You coming?”
“No,” he muttered mutinously.
His so-called friend watched the gaggle of sparkly pink-teed women as they downed shots the other end of the bar. “Looks like you have your pick, playah.” He sauntered off to the exit.
Tad picked at the label on the beer bottle, determined to get it off in one piece. It tore a quarter of the way in. Wait a minute…a points system?He turned but Shane was already out the door.
“Aren’t you going to help me celebrate my last night of freedom?”
Giselle, again. Glassy-eyed, sugar-lipped, up-for-it Giselle. The bride, which was usually on his list of no-nos. Maybe he needed to break a rule or two just to get his mojo back.
He reached for his well-worn smile. “You look like a Jagermeister type of girl. Am I right?”
She hooked up the corners of those do-me lips and leaned in close. “You’ve got my number, handsome.”
Thirteen
Jules’s phone vibrated on the counter and she flicked a glance.
