“What’s wrong?” Jason asks, drawing my attention to him.
Oh so much is wrong. But I stick with the polite answer, “I don’t like dark beer much.”
“You will,” he says, picking up his pint glass for a toast. “What should we toast to?”
“How about to new experiences?”
“No, no,” he corrects me. “To us.”
He clinks his glass against mine, and it spills a tiny bit of the beer over my hand onto the bar top. I can practically hear him guzzling as I take the two small square napkins and clean up the spilled beer. I try to sit easily on the stool as I take a sip of the beer. It’s indeed like chocolate milk… if chocolate milk is rancid and bitter.
I take another sip, thinking that maybe I just need to close my eyes and let it wash over my tongue…
Nope. I sit my beer down and push it away, relegating it to the far edge of the bar.
“Not to your liking?” Jason asks.
“Not so much,” I say, reaching for the skinny menu.
Jason grabs it again before I can get to it. “Let me choose again.”
I frown, staring at this man and not knowing what to do. I’m not used to being such a shrew on dates, but then again I’ve never been treated like this. I open my mouth to say as much, but he’s already waving the bartender down and ordering another beer.
“I like Belgian wheat beers, if that helps,” I say to the bartender, as soon as Jason’s done talking. I didn't even listen to what he said.
“Just bring her what I asked for,” Jason says pointedly.
The bartender senses the tension between me and Jason, so he just backs off and pours another beer. On my tab, I presume.
“So, first date formalities,” Jason says, as though none of that ever happened.
I have been on so many shitty dates since I got my job. I look at Jason as he talks and realize this one is probably the worst start. Probably.
“Let’s see… I’m in finance, but I won’t even begin to explain it. It’s nothing you would understand. I’m from Atlanta, but left for college.” Jason doesn’t look at me as he recites what’s probably a rehearsed introduction, motioning with his hands in between drinking the beer. “I went to Westminster, of course. Followed by Columbia and Yale, for business school. Came back to help my father run his firm. I’ve been everywhere. You name it, I’ve been there. I spend my weekends on my boat. And you?”
He finally looks up at me. I take a breath, my fingers tangling in my lap.
“Well… I’m from Atlanta, too. I went to Decatur High School—”
“A public school?” he interrupts.
I wait a moment to answer him, my body heat rising. “Yes. I also went to Brenau University—”
“You went where?” he asks, his nose wrinkling.
“Brenau? It’s a women’s college—”
“Oh, a girls’ school,” he says, tapping his hand on the bar top and leaning back some on his stool. I smile thinly.
“It’s actually a private college.” It’s where I went before Rhode Island School of Design. Both are damn good institutions, and I’m proud of the fact I was able to go to them.
He actually rolls his eyes as he takes another drink of the beer, the one I paid for, and says, “Yeah, okay.”
I seriously need to get out of here.
He takes a moment to savor his beer. I stand, shouldering my purse. Anger is just simmering beneath the surface. I’ve never been treated so poorly in my life.
“Where are you going?” he asks, surprised.
“I’m going to go ahead and leave,” I say.
“Wait— you can’t just leave like this, in the middle of our date!”
I wave my arm frantically at the bartender. “I’d like to close out.”
The bartender sees my frustration from where he’s pouring drinks down the bar. “You’re all set, it’s on the house.”
“Thanks!” I call.
Once I get outside, I’m shaky. I rush to get inside my car and pull my car out of the parking lot. I feel completely sick over what just happened.
I blow out a breath as my car hits the interstate. I’m almost on autopilot driving through evening traffic, although my mind is elsewhere. I settle into my seat and try to calm down as I look at the time on the dashboard.
I don’t want to go home and be alone after that bullshit. I know there’s only one place I want to be right now, and only one guy’s smile I want to see… I just hope Diane decided not to go there without me.
Chapter 6
Charlie
I found the perfect woman for you.
She’s going to be at the wedding.
I lean forward on the bar, my head in my hands. I groan when I read my mother’s texts. I wish she’d just leave it alone. I don’t have the time, or the energy. I’m not ready for anything serious.
“Well.” The barstool on the other side of the bar squeaks as she continues. “You look like you’re having an even worse day than I am.”
Her soft voice makes a grin play on my lips. I raise my head slowly, still resting my forearms on the bar, and peek up to see Grace.
“You have no idea,” I tell her as I push off the bar.
She turns her shoulder to me, the smell of her perfume wafting toward me. Her long hair falls off her shoulder and exposes more of the bare skin of her slender neck. I can hear her rustling in her purse, looking for her card.
A small huff of a laugh comes from deep in my throat. Grace has a few habits, and one of them is that she always puts her tab on her card when she's ordering food.
“The special?” I ask her. I walk backward toward the double doors that lead to the back.
She looks up at me, still hunched over her purse and smiles wide. “Of course.”
Chicken tenders and fries. It’s our special on Tuesdays, and Grace always gets the special.
I call out to the back, pushing the doors open. Then I grab her card to put the order through.
“What’ll you have to drink, sweetheart?” I ask, looking up at her from across the bar. I have to raise my voice, and I see a few of the men look over at me and notice her.
They’re regulars, and they go back to their food and drinks in no time, but I still feel a subtle rise of emotion. I don’t know what the emotion is, but I ignore it when she answers her usual.
“You got it,” I tell her.
I move to the bottled beers. She likes the lighter variety with a bit of citrus. The cap pops off, and I toss it into the trash before handing her the cool bottle. Her fingers brush against my hand, and a shock goes through me. A heated current, lighting my blood aflame.
A violent blush heats her face and I wonder if she felt it, too. I wait a second as she clears her throat and looks away. She looks shyer than normal, despite being dressed to the nines in some sexy outfit I've never seen before, some dark red pants and a light cream blouse. Or maybe it’s the blush, I’m not sure.
“Charlie!” I almost flinch at the sound of my name, snapping me back to the present. Frankie calls my name from down the bar. He’s at the very end, but he didn’t have to yell so damn loud.
“Yeah?” I ask. I turn from Grace and stride toward him. My skin feels so fucking hot. I want to turn around. I can feel her gorgeous eyes on me, willing me to look at her.
“One more?” he asks me, rather than tells me.
I lean against the bar and shrug. “Whatever you want.”
He nods as he pushes his empty beer bottle toward me. It takes me less than a minute to get him another drink.
Maggie comes out of the back, letting the one double door swing open and shut carelessly as she balances Grace’s order in her hands.
I'm quick to grab the plate with both hands to help Maggie out.
“I got it,” I tell her. Maggie wipes both of her hands on her apron and nods.
The smell of the fries and chicken and bacon wakes me right the fuck up. I already ate today, but I’m definitely going to snag a few
fries from Grace.
I smile as I set the plate down in front of her, remembering the first time she ordered the Tuesday special. She practically threatened me if I didn’t eat a few fries with her.
It was the second night she came in here. I remember the first because she came with a friend. She’s almost Grace’s opposite. I remember thinking it didn’t make sense that the two of them would be friends.
The next night, Grace came back alone, and I have to admit I was curious about her. She must’ve overheard me tell someone I hadn’t eaten dinner yet.
That happens a lot when you’re managing so much. Time just slips by.
She called me over and said it was too much food for her. I politely declined, and she wasn’t having it. This sweet little thing told me I had to eat, and she’d tell my manager on me if I didn’t. I don’t think I’ve ever smiled so wide before.
She really is a sweetheart.
“So you’re having a bad day?” I ask her. I pull my barstool over to her. She’s here a little earlier than the rush. I’ve got time.
She rolls her eyes before grabbing a chicken tender. As she starts to talk, I realize I forgot the salt.
“So I went out on a date tonight.” She lets out a heavy sigh, and I feel my jaw clench a little tighter.
The barstool tilts on two legs as I reach over and grab the one salt shaker on this half of the bar and set it down in front of her.
“Thank you,” she says politely. She always covers her chicken tenders with salt. No ketchup. No barbeque sauce. Just a little salt.
“Oh yeah, a date?” I’m surprised by the jealousy I feel as I look back at her gorgeous eyes as she nods her head.
“It was awful,” she says comically. A feeling of relief washes over me. I hold onto the barstool, spreading my legs a little wider, and listen to her tell me about this guy.
I steal a fry, and then another. Each time it only makes her smile more. I’m not really hungry, but I’m used to stealing a bit off her plate when she orders food. I guess we both have some habits now.
“And then what?” I ask her.
I wonder what it was like from his perspective. If he really saw her for who she is. The thought makes my heart do a small flip, but I barely notice as her hand absently brushes mine and she leans in.
“I can’t even tell you,” she says and she’s animated as she talks. “It was just something about him. He was so… so… arrogant and cocky. He was rude.” She purses her lips for a minute. “And he was definitely balding.”
My phone pings and I absently check it, forgetting that I was in the middle of a conversation with Ma before Grace came in.
I know you got the text, Charlie. I’m only trying to help.
I hit the side button on my phone and push off of the bar to get myself a water. I could really use a beer, but I learned a long time ago not to let that happen. I have to set an example. If you’re working, you’re not drinking.
“What’s wrong?” Grace asks. I grab a water from the built-in beverage refrigerator.
I don’t answer her right away. Instead, I twist the cap off and take a swig and then another. I should really grab a Coke; I need the caffeine. I shrug, setting the bottle down below the counter and walking back up to Grace. My eyes travel to the clock on the side wall. It’s going to be getting busy soon.
“It’s nothing. Just my mom checking in on me,” I say.
Grace’s expression doesn’t give much away, but she keeps looking at me. She cocks a brow, pressing me for more information.
An easy laugh rumbles up through my chest as I grab the bottle and take another sip. “My sister’s getting married, and my ma thinks she’s going to set me up at the wedding.”
Grace must get a real good kick out of that, judging by the huge smile on her face. Damn, those doe eyes light right up, too. They're shining with happiness as she claps her hands once and smiles.
“Yeah, it’s so funny that she’s trying to hook me up with someone?” I tease her. “Better than OKCupid or whatever you’re using.”
Her brows raise, and she purses her lips before taking another french fry and biting into it. She wags the fry at me. “You’re probably right.”
It’s quiet for a moment, and my phone pings again.
We both look at it on the bar, but I don’t flip it over to see what Ma said.
“You should probably answer her,” Grace says with a sly smile.
I steal two fries and shove them into my mouth, staring at her the whole time.
She gapes at me. She looks at the phone as if she’s going to take it, but she doesn’t. I like this side of her, this more aggressive, competitive side.
She doesn’t push though. Instead she takes a sip of her beer.
I reach for my phone, giving in and I don’t miss the smile on her face as she takes another swig.
It’s a group message, sent to both Ma and me.
She’s really nice, and available!
That one’s from Ali. I toss the phone down onto the bar and let out a frustrated sigh. I know they’re only playing, and they’re only trying to help, but I’m not interested. A light goes off in my head, and I finally pick up the phone and type a response.
I’m already seeing someone.
Not thirty seconds after setting the phone down does it go off over and over.
What?
Who?
When were you going to tell me about it?
Is she coming to the wedding?
“Oh my God.” Grace’s eyes go wide, although she can’t contain the wide grin on her face. “What did you tell her?”
She sits up on her stool and leans over to look as another few text messages come in.
I watch her reaction as she scrolls through them delicately, just using her pointer finger and leaving the phone sitting on the bar. I’m taken aback when the smile falls from her face and she slowly sits back on her stool.
Why didn’t you tell me?
I don’t believe you…
Bring the girl to the wedding, or else!
“So you already have a girlfriend?” she asks me softly. I’m not sure if I’m imagining the hurt there, or if it’s genuine.
I grab the phone and read the messages again as I answer. “No, no girlfriend.”
“So you lied?” The happiness comes right back as she bites down on her bottom lip, her eyes on me.
I let a small chuckle slip out. “Yeah. But now I’m fucked.”
“Just say she can’t come.” Grace shrugs, grabbing a fry and chewing at the end. She has no idea.
“They’re going to want proof.”
“What?” she says like they’re crazy.
“You didn’t grow up in a small town, did you?” I ask her. She has no idea what it’s like. When everyone knows everything, and word gets around faster than a forest fire in a drought.
She shakes her head, finishing off the fry and reaching for another.
“I grew up in Ellijay. My family is nosy, but so is the whole town. Everybody knows everybody’s business.” I pause, considering. “I shouldn’t have told them I’m seeing someone.”
Grace sucks on her two fingers quickly, and my eyes are drawn to her mouth. She doesn’t mean it to be sexual as she licks the salt clean, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t turn me on.
“Take a picture of us,” she offers. “I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend for the picture.”
She winks at me and grabs her beer, although that beautiful blush comes back with a vengeance.
It feels like a dare, and I’m happy to take it. I reach for the phone and scoot closer to her. Smiling, I snap a couple of photos.
As I sit back down on my seat I take a look at them; one is just right. She’s drinking her beer, although she’s smiling still. She looks sweet, happy even. I think Ma would like her.
“That’ll get them off your back,” Grace says. There’s that same dare hidden in her voice, but the effect is dimmed as she looks away and bites down on her bottom li
p. My shy sweetheart.
As I hit send, Grace finishes off her beer. I don’t hesitate to get her another. I know she wants it.
This time when our fingers touch, I don’t let the bottle go. She tugs a bit harder, then realizes I’m messing with her. The smile lights up her face.
And the texts light up my phone on the bar.
Grace grabs it before I can, letting go of the beer.
Her mouth forms a beautiful “O” as she gapes at the screen. I can only imagine her lips wrapped around my cock like that. I shamefully adjust my hard dick in my jeans as she points to the phone, completely unaware.
“They really want me to come to the wedding,” she teases.
“It’s two weeks away,” I say and then take a sip of her beer. I shouldn’t, but it’s only one sip. And it’s hers. “You really want to play my girlfriend for two weeks?”
I ask the question playfully, but there’s a serious hint hidden in there. A dare.
“What do I get?” she asks.
“What do you want?” My dick twitches in my pants at the thought of her answering with that desire I see in her eyes.
“Let me think about what I want,” she answers in a soft voice.
She grabs the second to last fry and watches as I slowly grab the last one.
“And what do you get?” she asks, forcing my eyes to reach hers.
“My family off my back.”
I nod to the phone and bite the fry as I wait for her response. Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I’ll give it to you.
“Okay then... you’ve got yourself a deal.”
“What’s my end of the bargain?” I ask her with a smile on my face.
She bites down on her bottom lip, but she won’t say it. I know what she wants. She wants to go slumming, get all tangled up in the sheets with the man she thinks I am. All she has to do is ask.
“I’ll figure something out,” she says, shifting on her barstool.
I’m playing with fire, knowing damn well this girl wants to settle down. But she doesn’t want to wind up with me, I know that much. So I’ll play along.
Knocking Boots (Sexy Standalone) Page 4
