actually does.”
“Why would they do that?”
He raised a brow. “Why does anyone do anything—for money. The economy is suffering in South Boston. All the small businesses are hurting for cash and want to make sure they secure your business.”
“Well, I guess I’d better take my coat off, then.”
The raincoat had soaked through, so ridding myself of it would be a relief.
Someone pushed toward the bar behind me just as I stood, nudging me forward an inch or two. Logan reached to grab my arm so I wouldn’t stumble.
His touch made me gasp. Concentrating on calming my nerves, I didn’t notice that my blouse was wet, and most likely see-through, until my coat was off.
His eyes darted to my chest.
Yep, definitely see-through.
Without taking his eyes off me, he took my coat and shoved it beside his. We were both still standing, facing each other, very, very close. People on either side of us pushed us even closer as they wormed their way toward the bar. His eyes looked darker than I remembered, and his chest seemed to rise and fall more quickly than it did before.
“Aren’t you going to drink that?” He nodded toward the shot.
My knees felt a little wobbly and I quickly sat down before they gave out. “Yes, I think I will.”
Logan handed me one of the shots. “Irish whiskey. If it doesn’t warm you up, it will definitely put hair on your chest.”
With a small laugh, I took the glass and his fingertips grazed mine. My body tingled, but I ignored the feeling and with a tsk I said, “I hope not.”
He blatantly eyed the front of my blouse.
The heat of his stare was just too much and I found myself uncharacteristically downing the shot without a second thought. The liquid burned my throat, but it was worth it because my body began to warm instantly. Whether it was from the liquor or him standing so close, though, I wasn’t sure. When I was done, I slammed the glass down.
His slow grin caused a sweet ache right between my thighs. As if he knew it, he inched even closer. Leaning forward, he whispered, “No hair, I hope.”
Again, I sputtered out a laugh. “No, I think I’m safe,” I managed around my giggle.
His eyes now on my face, he passed me the other shot.
I held my hand up. “No, that’s yours.”
Finally, he sat down, which put some distance between us. Not much, but some. “Two shots are guaranteed to light a fire inside you.”
I was already heating up.
For a moment, we seemed to be trying to get a read on each other. After a beat, I shoved the glass back toward him and said, “Thank you, but I’ve had my limit.”
Bemused, he asked, “Only one? That’s your limit?”
The deep tenor of his voice caused my heart to pound, and I couldn’t help but notice how his eyes gleamed bright when the words escaped his throat. I played along and raised a brow. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
His low chuckle ticked my eardrum. He pushed the shot away. “Absolutely not. I wasn’t going to let you drink it anyway. You’re driving.” He winked.
“Oh, you’re an alpha male, are you,” I teased.
Logan’s laugh rasped. “Absolutely not.”
I tilted my head sideways in doubt.
There was a twinkle in his eyes. “You don’t believe me. I’m wounded.”
I found myself giggling.
“O’Shea,” the bartender called from behind the bar.
The name didn’t register.
“White Mercedes SUV. Flat tire,” she called out louder.
Finally, it did and I raised my hand and shouted, “That’s me!”
She leered at me and pointed to the door.
I turned to see a man in a blue quilted jacket. I’d completely forgotten about him. Guess with my hat off, I was lost in the crowd and he couldn’t find me either. “Looks like they arrived quickly,” I quipped, the corners of my mouth turning up slightly.
Logan glanced at his watch, which looked extremely expensive. “Twenty minutes—that has to be record timing,” he commented, the inflection of his voice much flatter than it had been.
Rushing, I hopped off the stool a little too fast and the room started to spin, causing me to lose my balance.
Logan jumped up and grabbed me. Our bodies were aligned in such a way that we were thigh-to-thigh, belly-to-belly. It was then that I noticed just how tall he was. Six foot one was my guess. While he steadied me, he spoke and his warm breath caressed my neck. “Whoa, I see why you’ve got a one-drink minimum.”
“I’m fine,”