I tilt my head. “Then how did you expect to get home if I didn’t show up?”
She shrugs. “If you hadn’t shown up, I wouldn’t have had another shot, and I’d sit here for a good long while, have a few waters, and maybe some terrible nachos just to be safe. By the time I was done, I’d be fine and driving back unscathed.”
“So it’s my fault?”
“Of course.” She crosses her legs, which are bare in a pair of shorts. At some point today she put on this red top with buttons down the front and capped sleeves. It’s the same outfit she wore at dinner. It gave me pause then, and it gives me pause now.
Despite my best intentions, and all the work I’ve done, I lean close. “Then let me make it up to you by driving you home.”
Her brow furrows, and she leans in instead of away. “Well, now that I can’t drive, it’s the least you can do.”
God, this is a shit idea. I point at the empty glass. “You want another?”
“Yes.” She nods her head and shifts away from me, like she’s realized we were a little too close. “I shouldn’t, but I’m already seventy-five-percent there. Might as well go all the way.”
“I can’t fault your logic.” I hold up two fingers to the bartender, signaling another round.
She runs a hand through her hair. It’s down, swirling around her shoulders. She normally wears it pulled back in some sort of haphazard bun or braid. It’s thick and wavy, the color a rich brown with golden highlights.
I want to touch it.
The shot goes down smooth as I watch her.
She toys with a lock of hair, twisting it around her finger before it falls loose. “Where were we?”
I lean back on the stool, putting plenty of distance between us. “You were listing your grievances.”
“Oh yes.” She shifts around in her seat, like she’s excited to get back to it. “That’s right.”
I grin. “You got anything else?”
“Course.” Her voice has lost all that edge she normally carries around with her. It’s smooth and silky now.
“Let’s hear ’em.” I crook my finger, coaxing her.
She smirks, all mischievous. It’s a good look on her. She should wear it more often instead of pulling herself into a tight little ball all the time.
“I’m waiting.” My tone slips into husky.
“Weeeeeeelll…” She draws out the word, all theatrical.
Jesus H. Christ, I want her. I’ve done a very good job of hiding it, of playing it cool with her, but it’s not getting any easier. “Yeessss?”
She smiles now, and I think it’s the first real smile she’s offered me. I’ve seen it, of course, with her family and especially her niece, but this is the first time she’s thrown it in my direction, and it’s blinding.
“I hate how you never answer any question.” She waves a hand at me. “You think I don’t notice, but I do.”
“Do you, now?” I did think she didn’t notice. She’s not wrong. My motto is why give away more information than you need to? Most people don’t really give a shit and are asking questions to be polite.
“I do.” She leans forward. “I find it most annoying.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“I think you owe me.”
“Why?”
I’m enjoying myself way too much. If I was smart, I’d pay the bill, gather her up, and drop her on her porch before running back to my cabin and locking the door behind me. But I’m not smart, and the thousands of lectures I’ve given myself are nothing but a whisper. I won’t do anything about the situation, obviously, but I see no reason to end it prematurely either.
She huffs. “I gave you a job, a place to live, and I put up with you, even though I hate you.”
“Again, you make a good point.” I prop my elbow on the edge of the bar. “Okay, shoot. Ask me a question.”
She stares at me for a moment before saying, “Really?”
I nod. “Really. You get one question.”
She nibbles her lower lip, her brow furrowing. “Now I can’t think of anything. My mind is blank.”
“Awww…” I cluck my tongue. “That is unfortunate.”
All of the sudden, her face lights up. “Oh, I know.”
“Shoot.”
“Why did you come here tonight? Instead of going to Beau’s like the rest of the town.”
The question surprises me. I expected something about where I grew up or my parents or if I have any siblings, but not this. It’s a question I don’t particularly