AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Leave me alone. You can’t rush these things.”
“You’ve got until closing time.” He raises the pitcher and nods toward lovely Betty. She cuts her conversation short with Alana, who is also pin-up pretty, but not really my type. Blake obsesses over the girl while she pretends he doesn’t exist. However, when he isn’t looking, Alana’s eyes devour him. It is a game of cat and mouse. Blake is the mouse
and obviously, Alana likes to play with her food.
I can’t blame her. The chase is half the fun—but only half. I enjoy a challenge.
“Same thing?” she asks Blake.
“Up to the top, sweets.” He pulls a wad of twenties from his pocket and pays for the beer. “Can you set my friend straight? He thinks he can pick you up, but I can see that you’re the discerning type, so he hasn’t got a chance. Can you let him down quick and easy so he can come back and lose a bunch of money to me at the pool table?”
She licks her shiny red lips with a slow swipe of her tongue. “You want to pick me up?” She smooths the front of her dress and bends toward me.
“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to getting to know you better.”
Blake leans against the bar and watches as “Betty” and I negotiate my attempted flirtation.
“What’s your name?”
“Cade.”
“Well, Cade, I’m Betty,” She points to her nametag, “but my friends call me, Erica. Are we going to be friends, Cade?”
“I’d like that.” I pick up my mug and sip at the foam. “I’d also like a shot of Jack, please.”
“Statistics say that a better impression is made when you’re sober. Unless of course you’re the shy type and then having a shot of courage is helpful. Tell me, Cade. What type are you?” She flips a shot glass in the air and catches it before it hits the scarred top of the bar. She upturns the bottle of whiskey, fills the glass to the top and hands me my drink.
“I’m the determined type.” I wrap my fingers around the shot glass and pull it to my mouth. This isn’t a sipping whiskey, it’s an all-in, burn all the way down drink.
“I like your courage, but I have to let you know a bit about me.” She props herself against the back bar and relaxes. Blake stays beside me like any good wingman should, except in this case, he’s standing by to douse the flames in case I go up in a blaze of flaming failure.
“I’m listening.” There isn’t much she can say to dissuade me from my intentions. I’m not looking to marry her. I’m looking for a good time. That doesn’t require a lot of backstory, but I listen because the one thing I know about women is they want to be heard.
Old man Feeble, with his pruned face, and cue-ball head appears from the side door. “Erica, I’m not paying you to make friends. I’m paying you to make drinks.” He grabs a full bottle of scotch from the shelf and disappears through the same door he entered.
Erica looks skyward and shakes her head and mouths, “He’s an asshole.”
“Most of them are.” I hand Blake the pitcher of beer. “You were leaving.”
He laughs. “Was I?” He grips the beer and turns to walk away. “I’m only a few feet away if you need rescue.” He walks toward the others and makes the sound of a sputtering engine. His way of telling me I am still going to crash and burn.
“You were going to tell me something about yourself.”
She grabs the bar towel and wipes the counter in front of me.
“You’re right.” She brushes a black curl from her forehead. “I’m happy to be your friend, but here are three reasons I’ll never be more. I don’t do military, I don’t do casual, and I don’t do assholes.”
Alana approaches us like a racecar without brakes. “What she means is, she’s excited to meet you, Cade. She’s learning to be more flexible, and she’d love to go home with you.” Alana turns to Erica and says, “Remember our talk about accountability? Cade here is one the few, not one of the many.”
I offer her a smile and a look of confusion. “Care to enlighten me?”
“Not really,” she says.
“Stop trying to pimp me out,” Erica grumbles. “Flyboys at six o’clock.” She points her friend toward the new crew who arrives in mass.
Before Alana leaves to see to the new group, she leans over and says, “Don’t give up on her, she’ll give in, eventually. Keep on until you wear her down.”
“Out,” Erica yells. Her voice is thick, and sexy. It makes my veins heat and my heart race. Every word is like a warm caress across my skin. She has a lot going for her in my book, she’s pretty, funny, and short term. Erica is perfect.
