Beck and Cade also had bottles of Patrón, and they began pouring small amounts into what looked like champagne flutes.
“These glasses are tequila glasses,” Beck said, “specially made to experience the full complexity of the tequila and not compress the aromas.”
Hayden and Carrie exchanged glances. Hayden had to admit she was reluctantly impressed. These guys were serious about their tequila. For some reason she’d expected limes, salt, and shot glasses that they’d toss back, but this was clearly not the case.
“First we look at its color.” Marco held up the glass, and everyone picked up their glass and did the same. Hayden inspected the clear silver liquid in her glass.
“Also look at the consistency. In some of the more aged tequilas, the liquid will have a heavier, thicker body. Next, savor the aroma. But don’t do this like wine—this is eighty-proof alcohol.”
“If you stick your nose right in the glass, all you’ll smell is booze,” Beck added helpfully. “And your eyes will water. You guys don’t want to look like you’re crying into your tequila and have your guy card revoked.” He shot a grin at the men in the group, who laughed.
He was so damn funny and charming he even won over the men sitting at the bar.
“Take three little sniffs,” Beck continued. “The first one without moving the liquid.” He did so and everyone again followed suit, Hayden included. “Then give it a swirl and see what you smell. And one more small sniff. Anyone?”
The scientist in her made Hayden focus intently on the task. “I don’t really smell much,” she admitted.
Beck smiled at her. “You’re right, this silver tequila doesn’t have a lot of aroma. Maybe a hint of agave. Now everyone take a small sip to get your mouth used to the alcohol.”
They all did so. Hayden grimaced as the heat traced its way down her esophagus.
“Taking a little first gets your mouth ready for the burn of the alcohol, so your next taste you can ignore that and focus on the other notes,” Beck said.
Hayden liked how Marco was the tequila aficionado and Beck brought everything down to earth.
“Now take some tequila onto your tongue and try to identify the various tastes.” Marco said. “You might sense some citrus.”
“Alcohol,” Brian said. “I taste alcohol.”
The laugher included their three tequila hosts.
“Yeah,” Beck said. “I was once tasting tequila with a guy who went on about the ‘hints of pamplemousse, Meyer lemon, and Spanish oak.’ He was full of shit. No need to be a pretentious douchebag about it—just say what you really taste…and if it’s simply alcohol, so be it. Everyone’s palate is different. But maybe we’ll help educate your palate a bit tonight.”
“I feel heat,” Hayden said. “Though it doesn’t last long.”
“That’s right,” Beck agreed. “Heat is very true. And don’t worry…as we get into some of the more complex tequilas you’ll probably taste more. Try keeping some in your mouth…breathe through your mouth with it a little open if you can…then swallow and experience the back-end notes.”
Marco spoke up. “Before we move on to the reposado, we have to cleanse our palates. This is sangrita.” He poured red liquid into more glasses. “Tomato juice with a little lime and a dash of Tabasco. If you don’t care for it, you can swish some water around in your mouth also.”
Hayden sipped her tomato juice cocktail, which tasted basically like a virgin Bloody Mary, and prepared for the next tequila.
“We’ll move on to one of our reposado tequilas now,” Marco said. He set a bottle onto the long bar. “A reposado tequila is aged in wood barrels—usually oak—or storage tanks for two to eleven months. It then takes on a more golden color, and the taste becomes a good balance between the agave and wood flavors. First we’ll taste Sauza Hornitos.” He and Beck poured more samples and they repeated the process.
Beck slid one across the bar to Hayden with a smile. “Here you go, gorgeous.”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He was a shameless flirt.
This time people identified aromas of caramel, oak, agave, and fruit.
“Analyzing the organoleptic components of this is interesting,” she said to Carrie. She caught Beck’s raised eyebrow at her comment. “If you analyzed tequila with gas chromatography, I wonder how many odorants you could identify.”
Carrie groaned. “Hayden! Don’t overanalyze it. You always do that.”
Hayden frowned and sipped her tequila. “Isn’t that what we’re here for?”
“You need to enjoy the sensory aspects of the tequila,” Beck put in.
“Right,” Carrie agreed. “And to have fun. Remember? This is not work.”
Hayden sighed. “Fine.” She sipped again. “It’s smoother than the last one. Still warm. Smoky.”
After some discussion they tasted another reposado, then on to an añejo tequila, the first sample Don Julio. “This isn’t the most expensive tequila on our menu,” Beck noted. “Although Don Julio 1942 is one of our pricier ones. We’re just starting this tequila tasting night, and if it’s popular enough to continue, we’ll offer different tequilas each week. But this is quite a nice añejo tequila.”
“Vanilla,” Hayden noted as she took a small sniff. “And toffee. I think.”
Beck winked at her. “Very good.”
Heat slid down through her, and it wasn’t from the Don Julio. She focused on the appearance, noting that it was definitely more viscous than the last two they’d tasted. Then she tasted it. Smooth heat rolled over her tongue and down her throat. “Wow. What a difference.”
“Ugh.” Carrie shook her head. “I can’t handle this.”
Hayden grinned at her friend. “Come on. Try it again. Savor it.”
“It sounds as if you actually like it.”
“I actually do.” Hayden was as surprised as anyone. She made a couple of notes on the small notepad they’d each been given, careful to ensure she had the name of each tequila correct.
Carrie frowned at her. “Oh no. I’ve created a monster. A tequila monster.”
Hayden laughed, catching Beck’s eye as she did. The startled look on his face and the way he stared at her took her aback. Did she have something stuck in her teeth?
She swallowed a little more of her sample. “Not sure I could drink a lot of this, but I do quite like it.”
“Good girl,” Beck said approvingly, and the warm focus of his dark eyes on her and his appealing smile made her girl parts squeeze. She found herself smiling back at him.
Oh God. She must be drunk.
Chapter 3
No. Maybe a tiny bit of warmth from the tequila flowed through her veins, but she was far from drunk.
“This fine spirit hails from Jalisco, Mexico,” Marco said. “It’s distilled by master Juan Esteban Ortega, one of the most well-respected tequila distillers in the industry. Aged six to nine months in American white oak barrels, it has a smoky bouquet with notes of spice.”
Hayden took another sip and felt Beck’s eyes on her as she did so. “As you said, Hayden, there are notes of creamy vanilla, burnt orange, and a hint of toffee,” he said. “Elegant and sophisticated, but with enough bite to create some excitement.” The husky tone of his voice and the heat in his eyes definitely had excitement sizzling inside her. And his words could have been referring to something else entirely.
She rubbed her face. Oh God.
“So, which one is your favorite?” Beck placed both hands on the bar in front of her and leaned in, nodding at the empty glasses.
Hayden consulted her notes. “The Don Julio,” she said decisively.
“Excellent choice. One of my personal favorites too.” His voice went low and husky and she stared into his dark eyes. “Lush. Warm. Spicy.”
She blinked. She dropped her gaze to the glass in her hand. Slowly she tilted it, and the last golden drop slid down the side. She dipped her fingertip into it and then touched it to her tongue.
“Jesus.” Be
ck’s murmured curse was barely audible but she lifted her gaze back to those amazing eyes, framed with thick, dark lashes. Heat shimmered between them.
She closed her lips around her fingertip as she drew it out of her mouth. “Mmm. You’re right. Spicy.”
For a moment, the rest of the bar faded around them, but she was brought back to reality as Marco wrapped up the tasting lesson, handing out coupons for free appetizers on their next visit while the pretty waitress who’d served them chips brought out platters of nachos, mini chimichangas, and chicken wings.
Carrie was in a conversation with Will, beside her, that Hayden couldn’t hear, so she looked around the bar, feeling a little dazed. And not just from the tequila.
Some people had left, others stuck around to order more drinks. Beck approached again and set a glass in front of her.
She looked up at him, raising her eyebrows
“On the house,” he said in a low voice, leaning toward her and winking. “The Don Julio.”
The one she’d liked the best.
“Thank you.” She wasn’t sure why she was getting a free drink, but she picked it up and sipped.
“I don’t know your name.” Beck held out a hand.
“Hayden. Hayden Miles.” She set down the drink and slid her hand into his. He gripped her fingers firmly, and held on. A tingle started low in her belly at the warm clasp of his hand and the way he was looking at her.
“Good to meet you, Hayden. I mean, we already met, but now it’s official.”
That smile. Oh my God, that lazy, sinful smile. The tingles spread outward through her entire pelvis and up into her breasts.
“So glad you appreciate the complexity of a fine tequila,” Beck said.
Warmth expanded from her chest through her body and faded into a faint prickle, except between her thighs, where heat still pulsed. Feeling a little buzzed from the tequila and from Beck’s attention, Hayden smiled.
“Did you know you can make diamonds out of tequila?” Beck asked her, still leaning on the bar.
She blinked, but the scientist in her considered that. “I’ve heard of scientists working on turning organic solutions like acetone and ethanol into diamonds. I guess tequila is ethanol.”
“Yes, it is.” Beck’s eyes fastened on her face as he spoke and they both leaned closer, across the bar. “Most people call bullshit when I tell them that.”
“It’s not bullshit, it’s science,” she said seriously. “I believe you.”
The corners of his lips lifted. “Thank you. Yes, eighty-proof tequila—”
“Which is forty percent alcohol,” Hayden added.
“Yes.” He paused to study her face again and she found herself mesmerized by his eyes and wicked smile. “It apparently has the ideal proportion of ethanol to water to create diamonds. They evaporate the tequila into vapor and then heat it and create diamonds.”
“Of course,” she breathed, also fascinated by this information. “It’s like the diamonds that rain on Jupiter.”
Now it was Beck’s turn to blink. “Say what?”
She smiled slowly and sipped her tequila. “Diamonds raining on Jupiter. And Saturn actually. There are different theories about why, but I believe that lightning turns methane into soot. Then as it falls, pressure on it increases and it turns to graphite. The chunks of falling graphite harden into diamonds. And it rains diamonds.”
Beck’s gaze on her mouth as she spoke almost had her forgetting how to talk.
“Wow. So Jupiter is covered with diamonds?”
She shook her head. “No. They would probably melt. But on Uranus and Neptune, which are colder, there might be diamonds.”
Beck’s smile tugged at something way down low inside her and they leaned even closer, close enough that she could see the flecks of amber in his brown eyes, his long, thick eyelashes, and a tiny mole on his right cheekbone. His smooth skin glowed and she longed to tug his long, lustrous hair out of the bun and run her hands through it.
“How do you know that even happens?” he murmured. “No one’s been to Jupiter.”
She smiled and lifted one shoulder. “It’s chemistry.”
Their eyes met and held and the air around them crackled with electricity. Beck’s eyes smoldered and Hayden’s heart bumped then raced, tension rising inside her.
“I like chemistry.”
“Me too.” She was a doctor of biochemistry, after all. But right now she was talking about the kind of chemistry that pulled her to Beck, made her skin tingle, and filled her lower belly with aching heat.
“You have an amazing smile,” Beck murmured.
“Thank you.” Usually compliments embarrassed her and she didn’t believe them, but at this moment, she could believe her smile was amazing. Because she believed diamonds rained on Jupiter. “So do you.”
His already dark eyes went nearly black and moved over her mouth. Her lips parted and all she could think about was tasting him…would he taste like smoky vanilla with hints of caramel, like the tequila she was sipping? Would he make her burn like the tequila did? She longed to find out.
“Jesus,” he muttered. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want me to pour that tequila over you and lick it off. Slowly.” He leaned even closer across the bar. “Inch. By. Sweet. Inch.”
Her inner muscles clenched and a shiver worked up her spine. “That sounds like a fun way of tasting tequila.” She took another sip of the golden liquid, holding his gaze. Wow, where did that flirtatious comment come from?
“It does, doesn’t it? Right now…” His voice went low and husky. “…I’m dying to taste that Don Julio on your lips.”
She couldn’t stop from sliding the tip of her tongue over her lower lip. Heat cascaded down through her. Tension snapped around them and she had a feeling she was about to demonstrate the principle of spontaneous combustion. “Exothermic internal reaction,” she murmured. “Followed by thermal runaway.”
His eyebrows notched together. “Um, what?”
“And finally, ignition,” she finished. “Spontaneous combustion.”
He tilted his head to one side, reached for her glass of Don Julio, and took a drink. “Yeah.”
“Is that cooling you off?”
“Nope.” He fastened his hot gaze on her again. “Not even a little. Despite your nerdy talk.”
She sighed and dropped her head. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s hot. And cute.”
She lifted her gaze back to him and gave a slow blink. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”
He frowned. “What? Are you kidding? Of course not.”
She smiled wryly. She totally knew he was making fun of her. Like so many people did. “Right. I saw you flirting with every woman here.”
A notch appeared between his eyebrows. “I wasn’t flirting. I was just being friendly. It’s usually a good idea to be friendly to customers.”
“So telling me I’m hot is just being friendly?”
His slow smile had heat pooling low inside her again. “No. I was definitely flirting with you.”
She gazed back at him. “I’m not the kind of girl men usually flirt with.”
He leaned in again. “You had me at diamonds raining on Jupiter. Not just gorgeous, but smart too.”
In her experience, men didn’t find her intelligence sexy. In fact, it was usually the opposite. But she’d always scorned the girls who acted dumb just to attract boys, and swore she’d never do that. She had a hard time believing this gorgeous man was seriously attracted to her. Maybe he was after a big tip. Surely bartenders earned bigger tips the more they flirted.
But he seemed sincere. And even though she was a scientist and only believed in proven facts, she had to admit there were sparks flashing between them. She liked her world orderly and intellectual, not physical, but right now her body wasn’t cooperating with that. Something pulled her toward him…attraction. Electric cur
rents and the magnetic moments of elementary particles giving rise to a magnetic field…oh hell.
Maybe it was more explainable in terms of biology—dopamine, norepinephrine, which was increasing her heart rate, and serotonin, all combining to make her feel high and energized.
“What is going on in that pretty head of yours?” Beck murmured, his gaze moving over her face.
“You don’t want to know.”
“If it involves thoughts about licking tequila off my naked body, then hell yeah I want to know.”
She laughed. “Yeah, that was it.”
He closed his eyes briefly. “Okay, maybe I didn’t want to know that.”
Hayden finished the tequila he’d given her and set the empty glass down. Beck dropped his gaze to it. “You want to taste something really special?”
Never in her life had she been someone with a dirty mind, but at that moment, her thoughts went straight to the gutter. Her lips parted.
Beck choked on a laugh and swiped a hand over his face. “Jesus, woman, you’re killing me. I was serious.”
“Okay, then. Sure.”
Beck stepped back from the bar and moved toward the end, beckoning her to follow. She slid off her stool, leaned in, and said to Carrie, “Be right back.”
“Sure.” Carrie flashed a distracted smile, deep in conversation with the two guys seated next to her.
Hayden joined Beck at the end of the bar. He reached for her hand as she approached him and tugged her through a door that led to a dim hall. Her heart banged against her sternum. What the hell was she doing, going somewhere with a strange man?
A super-sexy and smart strange man.
She followed along as he held her hand and led her past the bathrooms, past a door with a window—through which she caught a glimpse of the kitchen—and into an office. He flicked on the light, and closed the door behind them.
“This is where we keep the good stuff.” He moved to an oak cabinet in the corner, opened it, and pulled out a bottle, holding it reverently. “Don Alvaro Extra Añejo.”
Body Shot (Last Shot) Page 3
