“Shot of tequila and a Lite.”
He nods and retrieves my order, placing it in front of me.
He’s covered in tats, and on his fingers the words LOVE LIFE are spelled out in big, black letters that span from base to knuckles.
“Thanks.” I pick up the glass, lick my hand, and shake salt on my skin before licking it off and downing the shot, hissing through the tartness of the lime. “I’ll take another.”
“Start a tab?” he asks.
“Yeah, thanks.”
Another shot appears, and the guy looks at me like he’s contemplating striking up a conversation. But my expression must warn him away, because he shrugs and walks off.
I sigh in relief—not because I couldn’t have dealt with shutting him down, but because I’m saved from having to do so.
I take a sip of the beer, putting it back on the counter before rubbing my temples, hoping to ease the stress headache that’s been pounding all afternoon, despite the caffeine and Advil I consumed.
The impending restaurant opening has everyone on edge, so I turned my phone to do not disturb and slipped out of the house undetected. I remind myself that Jackson and Gwen are in the process of getting plans to build a house on the back part of their lot, with a drive to connect the restaurant, and that will make life a little less crowded.
But that’s still a long way off. And tonight, I don’t want to be found.
I pick at the label on the bottle, trying to figure out when it’s safe to take my next shot. I don’t want to get shitfaced. I drove here, for one thing. Plus I’ve got too much stuff to do tomorrow, and I have to give a tour of the distillery to a restaurant looking to stock our rum.
I just need to take the edge off.
I stare at the shot for another couple of minutes and then down it, raising the glass for another. I roll my neck, shaking off the tension and trying to loosen my shoulders.
I’ve been working with Caden for two weeks now, and it’s not getting any easier. I find everything about him exasperating.
Even the fact that he’s so good at what he does irritates me.
That he’s better than me is infuriating.
But what’s worse, everyone loves him.
And I do mean everyone.
Even Mrs. Potts loves him, and usually she limits those feelings to Natalie. Last night she blushed when he complimented her cornbread like she was a sixteen year old with a crush. It was ridiculous.
And the most terrible thing of all? I want him. I want him bad.
I’d hoped the shine would be off him by now, but if anything, our weird, unwanted chemistry has only grown.
He’s like crack.
Somehow, after the card game, he wormed his way into eating dinner with us on the regular, and last night I had a sex dream about him. I woke up, sweating, my body aching and wanting.
Even in sleep, I can’t escape him.
I’ve fallen under his spell just like everyone else has, and it galls me.
It’s not even his fault. He’s been nothing but pleasant. He goes over all his decisions with me, and I can’t fault a single one. He’s polite, cordial, respectful, and any number of other synonyms.
He’s treated me exactly the way I’d hoped he would, but that tension is still riding high between us.
I down the other shot sitting in front of me, gulp half the beer, and put my head down on my folded arms.
“That bad, huh?”
I shoot straight up.
That goddamn dripping-honey voice! It’s following me.
My head swims a little, and I have a surge of hope that the alcohol is making me hallucinate. I turn to look behind me.
Nope. It’s Caden—looking ridiculously hot in jeans that mold to him like a second skin and a blue T-shirt I’d like to peel off.
I blow out a long breath and plan on sticking to all this politeness between us. But instead I say, “What are you doing here?”
A smile lifts the corners of his mouth. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
His gaze flickers over me, so fast and fleeting I’m not sure I didn’t imagine it. He shrugs. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”
That sets my teeth on edge, so I wave a hand over the near-deserted bar. There’s only five people in here, not including us and the bartender, and plenty of open spots. “Well, my reasons aren’t at all mysterious. I came here to drink alone, so if you don’t mind.”
Of