All's Fair in Love and Chocolate (Marietta Chocolate Wars #1) - Amy Andrews Page 0,1
a little extra strain. The dark skirt she was wearing also pulled taut across a nicely rounded ass and generous thighs that filled it out just right.
Reuben had always thought he’d been a women-in-blue-jeans-and-boots kinda guy. Apparently women-in-tight-skirts also did it for him.
Her face was quite square with a broad forehead and big, buggy eyes of a nondescript brown. There was a slight ski slope lift to the end of her snubby little nose. None of her features individually added up to a hill of beans but together they made one hell of an interesting face.
The type of face that made him want to keep looking.
One thing was for sure—she didn’t look easy. She looked complicated as all fuck.
He smiled. “Beer?”
“Is that all?” She grinned now and her teeth were nice and white but there was a slightly crooked one in the front that was fascinating. “You made it sound like it was the elixir of life.”
“It could be argued that beer is the elixir of life.”
“Hmm.”
She nodded slowly regarding him with those steady brown eyes and, in his peripheral vision, Reuben could see the enticing brush of her hair across her breasts.
“I would have to respectfully disagree with you there.”
The light tease in her voice made its way to Reuben’s groin. If only some more dudes this weekend had respectfully disagreed instead of being loud and obnoxious. “Okay, let me guess.” He regarded her as thoughtfully as she’d regarded him although maybe part of his brain—the one in his pants—was trying to decide whether the tips of her hair covered her nipples or sat just above.
Which would probably get whatever beverage she preferred dumped over his head.
“Champagne? Chardonnay?”
She cocked an eyebrow as she tsked but she was obviously not too insulted by his gender-based assumptions of her drinking habits. “You don’t think I can shoot whiskey?”
Reuben wasn’t sure why that sounded so dirty. It just did. “Can you shoot whiskey?”
“I have been known.”
The second beer was placed on the mat and Reuben absently said, “Thanks, Mike.”
Picking it up she also said, “Thanks, Mike,” and smiled at the bartender as she tilted it toward him in salute. Then she took two long swallows, those red lips pressed to the rim of the glass before placing it back down on the mat, her tongue swiping froth off her top lip as she turned slightly toward Reuben.
Hot. As. Fuck.
Her brown eyes were full of mischief—like she knew exactly what that sexy little lip lick had done to him. “So, if it’s not beer or wine or whiskey,” he asked, “what is the elixir of life?”
“Chocolate, of course.”
Reuben laughed. Why did that answer not surprise him? Like chocolate, there was something lush and decadent about this woman. Like she appreciated indulgence in all its many-splendored ways. The satin blouse, the tight skirt. The full jut of her breasts, the generous curve of her hip.
That red, red mouth.
“I hate to come across as a dreadful bore…” Reuben said because he liked talking to this woman and there hadn’t been a lot to like about this weekend, but a point of order was required. “Would it not have to be liquid to be an elixir?”
“Ah.” She gave him a beatific smile. “That’s the beauty of chocolate. It can be solid or liquid.”
Reuben’s brain shorted out as he thought of all the advantages of liquid chocolate and where it could be applied as the woman beside him calmly drank more beer.
“Hey, Reuben.”
Reuben dragged his attention from her lush red mouth to the person standing on the other side of him. “Hey,” he said to the guy who’d come to the bar to fix up the bill. He couldn’t recall the guy’s name but Reuben’s father knew him and they made polite conversation mostly about the rodeo until the bill was sorted and the other guy departed.
When Reuben turned back to his companion she stuck out her hand and said, “Hi, Reuben. I’m Vivian.”
He slid his hand into hers. It was warm and soft. “Hi. It’s really nice to meet you.”
She smiled making no attempt to retrieve her hand, her brown eyes trained firmly on his face. “I’d have to say the feeling is entirely mutual.”
Reuben met a lot of women through his job, many of whom openly flirted. It was the uniform thing—he got that. But he’d never been tempted to follow through. Mostly it was just plain inappropriate but even when it hadn’t been, he had a girlfriend and Reuben didn’t cheat.