a small white cardboard box with a Fancy Pants Bakery label on it, almost as if they were guarding it. The six glasses he’d added to the table looked like they were attempting a siege.
He raised an eyebrow at her. He still didn’t know what she was doing here in this dim corner booth alone. “Going to drink any of your soldiers, or do you want to try one of mine?”
She eyed the Palomas again, and he slid one toward her. “Go ahead, he’s here to see if there’s any chance for the opposing sides to negotiate.”
She smiled and raised the drink to her lips, eyes growing wide after the first sip. “That’s delicious.”
“Yeah? Pretty and delicious.” He wasn’t talking about a damned drink.
“I normally drink Cabernet Sauvignon.”
“Of course, you do.” Everything about her fairly screamed fancy wine. “I’m surprised you like the Palomas if you normally enjoy such a dry red.”
She took another sip of the pink cocktail then leaned in and whispered, “I don’t really like Cabernet Sauvignon. It’s too dry. Doesn’t taste good.”
He leaned in too. “Then why do you drink it?”
Brown eyes blinked at him for a long moment. “It’s not pink.”
He wasn’t sure what that meant. “No...definitely not pink. But I’m glad that pink soldier tastes good.”
She nodded, leaned back, and took another sip. Baby took a sip of the water. He wasn’t sure exactly what was going on in that head of hers, but he wanted to make sure he was able to take care of her, no matter what state she was in.
“Why aren’t you at the Eagle’s Nest?” she asked. “I heard you’re a regular around there.”
“I wanted something a little different tonight. Sometimes it’s nice to be somewhere where nobody expects too much from me.”
She nodded. “Expectations. I understand that.”
“Not to mention, I literally got back this morning from a local race—the Wild Wyoming Adventure Race. It was filled with all sorts of drama, and I needed to get away from that for a minute.”
She looked down at shot glasses in front of her. “WAR.”
“You’ve heard of it?” The endurance race was pretty well known in extreme athletes circles, but he wouldn’t have taken her for a fan.
“Yeah, I’ve heard the name before.”
There was more she wasn’t telling him, but he decided to leave it alone for now.
“What are you doing here? I would’ve thought you might’ve made some friends at the Eagle’s Nest to hang out with.”
She grimaced again, and he bit back a curse. Shit. Had she gotten fired? He hadn’t been around since that first day. “Not that you have to hang out at the Eagle’s Nest if you don’t like it there anymore,” he added quickly.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t get fired. I’m still working on my silver medal in bad waitressing. I was going to go out to dinner in Reddington City, but I changed my mind and ended up here,” she gestured down to the shot glasses. “Drinking tequila.”
“Any special occasion?”
“I was going to drink thirty-nine shots but decided that was an asinine idea.”
He nearly spewed his water as he chuckled. “Wow. Thirty-nine is quite a lot. Any particular reason?”
She pointed to the Fancy Pants Bakery box surrounded by the shot glasses. “To go with my cupcake.”
“Tequila shots and cupcakes? Quite the unusual combination.”
Her face fell. “I know. They’re both stupid.”
“Whoa, not stupid. Just...an unusual pairing.”
“It’s my birthday,” she finally said without looking up at him.
There it was.
Baby wanted to reach out and touch that soft strand of hair that always seemed determined to escape her bun. Someone like Quinn shouldn’t be in a dive like Bandits on her birthday. If she wanted to drink tequila shots and eat cupcakes, she should be doing it with friends.
Evidently, she didn’t have that right now for whatever reason.
He could damn well be her friend.
He reached over and flicked her hand softly. “Sounds like it’s my lucky day. I get to be part of the birthday celebration. Let me guess: thirty-nine shots for your thirty-ninth birthday?”
“Yes. It seemed appropriate.” She sat back against the booth and shrugged. “I’ll bet you haven’t had a thirty-ninth birthday.”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“I’ll bet you haven’t had a thirtieth birthday.”
He knew enough about women to know he was in dangerous territory. “Guilty as charged. I’m twenty-seven.”
She picked up one of the shot glasses next to the cupcake box and swallowed the contents quickly, making the most adorable post-shot face. “That’s definitely not surety-nine.”