Awkward silence fell for a few minutes, and Vance felt tension creep into his muscles.
Damn. Why did the prospect of Jimmy walking away make him feel so... disappointed?
“I admit, it’s definitely not what I expected.”
Jimmy’s soft voice came from much closer than Vance thought it should. He even jolted when he felt Jimmy’s hand land on his upper arm. When the slender bartender’s fingers traced Vance’s jaw, pushing gently, he turned his head and found Jimmy standing right next to him.
“Dating is a risk, though.” Jimmy’s smile appeared wry. “I have shitty hours. I don’t like to spend on credit. My ex is an ass, too, as you saw.” He teased his fingertips along Vance’s jawline, back and forth, back and forth, causing the hairs on Vance’s nape to stand on end. “And since we’re disclosing family troubles, my mother keeps trying to set me up with girls.” Jimmy shrugged. “Nobody is perfect.” Pulling away, Jimmy waved toward the food. “So, how about we enjoy that epic-smelling feast you made, and we can continue to chat all about why we’re a bad risk for a relationship.”
Relief filling him—shocking him with the intensity of it—Vance could only nod. He turned and grabbed his oven mitts again. Picking up the tray of lasagna, he took it to the table. Vance used a set of tongs to move the Texas toast to a salad plate, then put that on the table, too.
“Can I interest you in a glass of wine with supper?” Vance asked, pulling it from the fridge and holding it up.
Jimmy nodded, smiling. “Sounds good.”
Vance pointed to the table. “Have a seat while I open this.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jimmy obey. After popping the cork on the wine, Vance grabbed a wine topper and carried both to the table. “You a fan of red then?”
Obviously knowing Vance referred to the wine, Jimmy slid his glass closer to him. “Normally.” He grinned as he watched Vance fill his glass. “There’s always some brand of some kind of alcohol that I don’t care for, but it’s rare.”
“I don’t actually know shit about pairing wine with food, but this is a Malbec that I enjoy,” Vance admitted, finishing pouring the wine into Jimmy’s glass and moving to his own. “Hopefully you will, too.”
Jimmy winked as he pulled the glass toward him. “Well, if I don’t like it, I might just have you open that vodka I brought.”
Vance put the bottle down, then peered at the counter where he’d left the gift. “If that’s what you’d rather have—”
“Oh, no!” Jimmy raised his hand, then waved toward the second place setting. “Please. Sit.” Smiling at him as Vance obeyed, he added, “This smells amazing.”
Picking up the knife and spatula, Vance turned his attention to cutting the lasagna. “Next time,” he commented absently. “I’ll make chicken enchiladas.” Vance flashed a grin Jimmy’s way as he carefully scooped a healthy portion onto his companion’s plate. “It’s Brand’s favorite.” Using his spatula to point at Jimmy’s plate. “Give that a minute so you don’t burn your mouth.”
“Brand is that big guy, right?” Jimmy questioned as he used his fork to take a piece of bread. “From the club on Saturday?”
Vance nodded as he plated his own food. “Yeah. Known him a long time. Even before I got him a job here.” He helped himself to a slice of garlic bread. Next, he began carefully cutting his lasagna, watching it steam.
“So how old are you, Vance?” Jimmy asked before taking a sip of his wine. “Oh, that’s good.” He took a larger sip.
Finding his gaze riveted to Jimmy’s throat muscles, Vance had to swallow twice before finding his tongue. The awkward conversation about his ex-wife and son had eased his ardor, causing his blood to cool. Seeing Jimmy drink the wine and hearing him hum appreciatively while chewing a bite of garlic bread fired Vance right back up again. He shifted in his seat, trying to find a slightly more comfortable position.
“Not gonna tell me?”
Vance cleared his throat, yanking his brain back online. “Uh, what?”
Real eloquent, Vance.
Jimmy snickered softly, but his smile was kind, and his eyes glowed with heat. “I’m twenty-seven. I took two years of college and dropped out, much to the disappointment of my parents. So not for me,” he added with a roll of his eyes. “I worked a number of odd jobs to pay my bills. When I turned twenty-one, I enrolled in bartending classes. I was damn lucky to get a position at The Red Door straight away. I’ve been there six years and am second in seniority.” Sliding the tines of his fork into a square of lasagna, Jimmy added, his tone taking on a note of pride, “Slade has been talking about retiring. He’s the bar back manager. I’m in line for the position, but I would sure miss him.”
Jimmy stopped talking and slid the fork into his mouth. His brows shot up, the gem in the small piercing through his eyebrow catching the light. He hummed and smiled, nodding his head, his enjoyment obvious.
Pride flooded Vance, and he was so damn pleased that Jimmy enjoyed the food he’d provided. To keep from saying something stupid, he shoved a forkful of food into his own mouth. Flavors exploded across his tongue, and his stomach growled, his hunger returning with a vengeance.
“So, what about you?”
Right.
After swallowing, Vance figured out what to say. “Well, I’m thirty-eight”—damn, we’re more than a decade apart—”and I went to college for animal husbandry.” He scooped up another forkful as he continued. “My uncle worked for Laramie’s uncle, who owned the farm back then. He put in a good word for me and got me hired on. I learned a lot from both of them.”
Vance took a bite of dinner, thinking about the past. It certainly hadn’t been all roses, especially with a baby boy and an unhappy wife. Still, he really wouldn’t have traded it for anything.
“What do they do here? I saw a whole lotta barns while driving in.” Jimmy used his fork to point absently around the area. “But since it was dark, I couldn’t make out much.”
Happy to be able to share his work, Vance told about the pig farm. He explained about breeding and feeding, the average number of piglets, and how many were normally on the farm at any given time. Jimmy asked questions, seeming to be quite interested.
After Vance had finished a funny tale about Brand falling in the mud when a hungry, over-eager sow knocked the legs out from under him, Jimmy responded by telling a few entertaining stories from his time working at the bar.
Laughing hard, Vance pressed a hand against the growing stitch in his side. “Damn,” he mumbled, catching his breath. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard.” Taking in Jimmy’s flushed face, twinkling eyes, and wide grin showing off even teeth, he felt his heart skip a beat in his chest. Vance cleared his throat, then indicated the sofa. “Would you care to sit and relax? Maybe watch a movie?” Seeing Jimmy’s brows lift, he added, “I could open another bottle of wine.”
“If you do that, I won’t be able to drive home later.” Jimmy lowered his lids and peered at him through his lashes. “Are you hoping to take advantage of me, cowboy?”
With how hot his cheeks felt, Vance figured he had to be blushing. That didn’t stop him from allowing his hunger to show on his features as he murmured huskily, “Yes, Jimmy. Yes, I am.”
A wicked smile of his own curved Jimmy’s lips. “Then you’d better go get that bottle of wine,” he rumbled as he rose to his feet.
Chapter Six
While Jimmy knew starting something with the half-closeted bisexual hottie was probably a bad idea, he just couldn’t resist. The man drew him like a moth to a flame. Jimmy found him not only handsome, but funny, kind, and a great cook.
Jimmy also loved the way Vance looked at him—as if he had just walked across a desert, and Jimmy was a tall glass of water. It made his heart pound and his blood fire through his veins. Remembering the feel of his hands in his hair and the taste of his skin, Jimmy vowed to keep it casual even as he gave in.
Taking Vance’s offered hand, Jimmy all
owed the man to draw him out of his chair. When his cowboy slid his free arm around him and tugged him closer, he went with it. Jimmy found himself pulled flush to Vance’s taller, broader frame, and heat seared his flesh everywhere they touched, creating a wave of tingles that cascaded over his body.
A tremble worked through him.
Vance grinned down at him, his expression hungry and so damn smug. “I love that I have that effect on you, Jimmy.” Lowering his head, he nuzzled his nose along Jimmy’s jawline as he whispered, “So damn heady. Been so long since I’ve felt such passion as what I feel just from holding you.” Vance lifted his head, meeting his gaze for an instant, before pressing his lips to Jimmy’s. He barely lifted his head so he could whisper, “Kissing you.” While pressing another light peck to Jimmy’s mouth, Vance slid the hand he had on his back up and down, scraping his fingernails lightly over Jimmy’s spine through the soft fabric of his shirt. “Touching you.” Vance pushed his tongue against the seam of Jimmy’s mouth, requesting entrance.
Jimmy groaned softly, immediately opening. Tipping his head and pressing into the man, he welcomed Vance’s tongue into his mouth. The flavor of the man, mixed with wine, garlic, cheese, and meat sauce, exploded on his tongue—heady, powerful, and going straight to his head.
Gripping the soft flannel of Vance’s shirt, he undulated against him. Trembles worked through him as tingles erupted on his skin. His dick pressed painfully against his fly, and desperate for pressure, he rutted shamelessly against Vance’s fly.
By the time Vance lifted his head, breaking the kiss, Jimmy’s lungs screamed for air. He panted harshly, trying desperately to catch his breath. His head swam, and somehow he knew it was all caused by Vance’s talented tongue and not the wine he’d consumed.
Vance released Jimmy’s hand, moving it up to cradle his head. “Glad you like garlic bread, too,” he teased as he grinned down at him. “And it tastes amazing on your lips.”
Jimmy laughed softly. “So glad you think so.” With a wink, he finished, “Especially since you served it.”
Chuckling huskily, Vance grinned at him. “So glad you feel that way.” He cocked his head as he narrowed his eyes. “How do you feel about anchovies?”
Laughing, Jimmy replied, “How does anyone feel about anchovies?” He saw the way Vance’s lips twitched as his brow lifted. Just like that, it hit Jimmy. “Oh my god! Do you really like anchovies?”
“I do,” Vance admitted freely. “I love them on salads, just as a snack, or on pizza. Jalapeños, too.” Cocking his head, he asked, “Have you ever actually tried them?”
Jimmy opened his mouth to say, of course, but he paused. Licking his lips, he racked his brain for an occasion when he’d ever actually tasted anchovies. “Um.” Huh. “I guess not.”
Vance dipped his head and nipped at Jimmy’s earlobe, sending tingles down his nape. “Are you adventurous, sweetheart?”
A tremble worked through Jimmy, and his nipples beaded while his dick flexed in his jeans. The way Vance spoke to him, how his body sang from his touch, made him want to agree to anything the man suggested. Jimmy didn’t understand it but figured he could ruminate on it another day. Right then, all he wanted was to feel more of the man.
“What do they taste like?”
Humming, Vance furrowed his brows. “Slightly bitter, salty clam strips.”
“Huh.” Jimmy thought about that. “So it’s like how only a few people like salt and vinegar potato chips.”
Vance laughed, his eyes twinkling. The expression changed his ruggedly handsome features, morphing him into beyond stunning. How his hazel eyes gleamed and the way he peered at Jimmy with such hunger just added to Vance’s rakish handsomeness.
Still grinning broadly, Vance pressed, “Could be. Does that mean you’ll try it?”
Jimmy didn’t know what got into him, but he peered at Vance through his lashes, giving him a flirty look as he said, “I don’t know if I’m agreeing because I want to please you, I actually want to try it, or if I think you’re issuing a challenge... but yeah.” Seeing the way Vance’s eyes widened and how the corners of his lips quirked up, Jimmy shrugged. “So... what’s your favorite way to eat anchovies?”
“Pizza or salad is definitely a toss-up,” Vance murmured while sliding his right hand up Jimmy’s spine, then back down again. “Hmmm... maybe I’ll offer both. A homemade pizza with anchovies on half of it”—he waggled his brows—”just in case you don’t like them. Plus a Caesar salad with a small bowl of anchovies on the side, that way you can add a bit to a couple of bites, and if you don’t like it, no harm no foul.”
Jimmy hummed, even as his overly full stomach twinged uncomfortably at just the mention of food. “I don’t know how you can be thinking about cooking when we’ve just pigged out on your epic lasagna,” he said around a whine. “Why is my mouth watering?”
Vance’s husky chuckle caused a fresh wave of tingles to erupt on Jimmy’s skin. He moaned softly as he peered up and met the man’s gaze. His jaw sagged open as he took in the desire and need in the man’s eyes.
“Well then,” Vance rumbled huskily. “I do believe it’s time to move to the living room.” He gently massaged Jimmy’s nape with his fingers, and his hand was so big that he still managed to tease his thumb along his jaw. “How about you find something to watch while I get the wine?”
With his body on fire, Jimmy shook his head. He spotted the concerned tilt of Vance’s brows and knew he’d misunderstood. When his date opened his mouth, probably to question him, Jimmy lifted his hand and touched the pads of his forefingers to his lips.
“I don’t actually think we need other distractions,” Jimmy whispered, praying for all that he was worth that he wasn’t overstepping or pushing the other man. “While I would be more than happy to just feel your arms around me, I’m also more than willing to experience more with you.”
Yep. So much for my New Year’s resolution.
In Jimmy’s mind, he heard the sound of an explosion, as if his plan to make slower, better choices had been completely blown out of the water.
For one heartbeat, two, Jimmy worried he’d made a mistake, that Vance actually meant this to be a date where they talked and learned about each other—not that there was anything wrong with that—and he prepared to backpedal and do damage control.
Then Vance grinned widely as his hand tightened on Jimmy’s nape. “I like that idea,” he murmured huskily, his hazel eyes twinkling, showing off the green in their depths.
Seeing the way Vance began to lower his head, Jimmy slid his hands up to cradle Vance’s neck. He lowered his eyelids to half-mast in anticipation. Clinging to the bigger, stronger man, he couldn’t wait to taste his lips again.
The ringing of a phone caused Vance to freeze. A second later, he groaned as he loosened his hold. His expression appeared pained, chagrined, as he eased away from him.
“I’m so sorry, Jimmy.” Vance turned and swept his gaze over his counter. “That’s the ring for the farm’s emergency line. I gotta take this.”
As disappointed as Jimmy was at the interruption, he still nodded and stepped backward to lean against the table. He nibbled his bottom lip as he watched Vance grab his phone and accept the call. Jimmy wrapped his arms around himself as he listened to Vance’s side of the conversation, carefully watching his facial expression.
Evidently, something was seriously wrong.
“Yeah, you did the right thing, Wayne. I’ll be right there.” Then Vance must have disconnected the call, for he turned back to face Jimmy. His expression said it all.
Their date had come to an end.
“I’m so very sorry,” Vance stated, his sincerity ringing through loud and clear. “There’s an emergency with a birthing sow, and the vet was called. I need to be there.” Grimacing, he repeated, “I’m sorry.”
For all the world, it had never occurred to Jimmy that Vance might be called away. “Yeah.” He nodded. “It’s okay.” It mad
e sense, though. Vance lived on sight, after all.
Seeing Vance’s pinched expression, Jimmy realized how insensitive and dismissive his tone had sounded. He pushed away from the table and forced an understanding smile. “Really.” He lifted his hands in placation. “Hell, you’re the farm’s foreman. You live on sight.” Rolling his eyes, he continued, “I admit it didn’t hit me until now what that meant, but I really do get it.” Glancing at the food spread on the table, Jimmy asked, “Do you want me to clean up before I see myself out?”
Vance opened his mouth, then closed it again. He cocked his head. “Really? You’d do that?” He took in the spread of leftovers as he crossed back to him, then rested his hands on Jimmy’s hips and smiled down at him. “I would offer for you to stick around, make yourself comfortable and all that, but I really have no idea what I’m walking into or how long I’ll be.”
Jimmy’s body warmed at Vance’s offer. He grinned while resting his palms on the man’s chest, rubbing over his pectorals soothingly. “It’s okay. I really do get it,” he assured. “You go do your thing. I’m gonna make myself a doggie bag of your amazing lasagna, put the rest away in your fridge, and lock up when I leave.” Realizing how presumptuous that sounded, he quickly added, “Is that okay?”
Nodding, his expression pleased, Vance murmured, “Hell, yeah. Thank you.” Dipping his head, he pressed a too-soft, too-quick kiss to Jimmy’s lips. “God, I want to stay,” he grumbled on a moan even as he released him and stepped away. As he crossed to his front door, Vance stated over his shoulder, “There’s tin-foil and Tupperware in the cupboard to the right of the stove. Please help yourself.” After grabbing a heavy Carhartt jacket and pulling it on, Vance turned back and smiled at him as he zipped it up. “Thank you, Jimmy. Not only for putting the food away, but for understanding.” His expression turned troubled. “You have no idea what it means to me.”
Hogtying the Bartender Page 5
