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Each table is a mini paradise for the couples while they flirt or talk business, and they leave me with a feeling of loneliness. I never get to date guys that bring me to one of those booths. In fact, I never get to date guys that do much of anything except try to grab my body before the appetizers have been served. This town is pretty slim pickings when it comes to eligible non-fuckwits, and being in law enforcement makes it that much harder.
Or easier, I guess.
These people are on dating websites just like the rest of us thirty-somethings who want to meet someone. But where they have to trust the bio that each user puts up, I can skip through the bullshit and just run their names through the computers at work.
Legal? Not really. But I’ve saved myself from having to eat a meal with men who’ve been charged for bad things in the past. I let many blips pass; speeding ticket, parking violations, even fighting in the street, I’ve been known to shrug about.
But then you find the guys who’ve repeatedly sent other women to the emergency room. Men who’ve served short stints of time for violence. Men who’ve done time for drug-related charges.
I’ve saved myself the effort of finding out once he’s already begun groping.
But because this town is small, and the dating pool is shallow, I continue to end up in Drake’s bed as a way to feelsomething. And now I sit beside a man whose bio will pop up in those dating apps soon, he will have forgotten to mention the time he was arrested for nearly beating his wife’s brains open with a baseball bat, he’ll say how his life has gone to shit and it’s entirely her fault.
Perhaps he’ll blame all women, the way some women hate all men because of the actions of their ex.
Tink moves from one end of the bar to the other, doing her job and filling drinks, while the man beside me – Aaron – murmurs his hate forbitches. Other servers take orders from those in the booths, they come back to the bar and fill those orders, and then they deliver the drinks to each table.
It’s on one of those laps that my eyes follow a beer and a tall glass of something bubbly all the way to a booth with long legs and insanely high heels. The man’s back has been shielding her since I walked in. He’s one of the men whose sleeves go all the way to his wrists, but when their drinks arrive, he pulls back and watches the server set the glasses down. Halfway through taking a sip of my water, I choke and sputter as my eyes focus on who owns that broad back.
Theodore Griffin is on a date, and it’s insane how much that annoys me.
He was so fucking insistent on taking me to bed, but so soon after my denials, he’s out with someone else? It shouldn’t bother me. It should almost be a relief to know he’s over that small infatuation and has moved on.
Even if it annoys me that someone else’s legs are almost as long as my body. Even if it bothers me that her legs are thin and beautiful, and mine… are not. Mine are short and stocky, and despite the fact I’ve worked hard for a twelve-percent body fat ratio, I still don’t have the coveted thigh gap that other women do.
Fuck his date and her thigh gap.
I try to turn away from the couple, I beg myself to stop staring, but I toss a cube of ice into my mouth and crunch, and mere seconds later, his head comes up as though he knows he’s being watched. He studies the club outside his booth for a moment with furrowed brows, but he must feel the heat, because his eyes come to me as though he knew exactly where to find me.
I sit at the bar beside an asshole, sipping what appears to be vodka on the rocks, and my eyes lock with Theo Griffin’s while he’s on a date with someone else.
Why the hell does this scenario annoy me?
“Hey there, stranger.”
I swing my gaze around, which seems to annoy Griffin more than my sitting beside Aaron does, and smile at Drake’s cheerful voice. He stands behind me, effectively placing his body between me and Aaron, and presses a noisy – dare I say,juicy– kiss on my cheek. “You look… thoughtful,” he chuckles. He’s in full uniform and makes Aaron sit taller just by being here.
I turn on my stool completely so my back presses against the bar and my elbows rest on top. “Hey there, handsome. You here to arrest me?”
He snorts. “I mean, technically this is my jurisdiction right now. I’m in uniform and you most certainly are not.” He moves in closer, and despite the fact this kind of arrogance in any other man would annoy me, his only makes me laugh as he runs a fingertip along my thigh. “I’m off shift in an hour. Wanna get married?”
I bark out a laugh and pull him in for a fast side hug. “I swear, I hate men like you.”
He presses a hand to his chest. “You wound me.”
“And yet, you’re still here, and you’re smiling.”
“It’s because you’re so pretty,” he counters.
“Don’t get married,” Aaron slurs. “Don’t do it, man. She’ll fuck your brother and you’ll lose your job.”
Drake’s lips twitch with laughter as he pulls back to catch sight of the drunk man. “I don’t have a brother. But I have father; do you think that’ll work?”
“She’ll fuck anyone with a cock. Theyallllllldo.”
“You’re offering me your father now, Drake? Geez Louise, I’ve met your old man, and I’m just saying, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”
He snorts. “Don’t say it, Tate. Don’t you fucking s–”
