on her skin and made her blue eyes sparkle.
“Would you like anything to drink?” The waiter’s voice broke the spell, and both Smokey and Ashley shifted their gazes to him.
“I’ll have a glass of pinot grigio,” she said.
“A shot of Jack Daniel’s and a Superpower on draft,” he said.
The waiter smiled. “A good choice, sir. Did you want to order any appetizers?”
Ashley looked down. “I haven’t looked at the menu yet.” She cut her gaze to Smokey. “Do you want to order something?”
“Give us a minute, okay?” he said to the waiter.
“Sure, no rush. I’ll be right back with your drinks,” he said before walking away.
“I tried Superpower last October at the Great American Beer Festival in Denver. It’s good. Have you ever been to that festival?”
Smokey nodded, then reached for a slice of hot bread the busser had just put down on the table. “Been there a few times with some of my buddies. I was there last October, too, with Zach.”
Ashley smiled. “Zach loves beer.”
“Yeah.” Smokey laughed. “He got so damn shit-faced. Lori didn’t think it was too funny when I dragged his drunken ass home.” A grin rolled across his face. “Good times.”
“Do you get to Denver often?” she asked.
Shaking his head, he slathered butter on his bread and took a bite. “Not that much. I go to bike rallies sometimes. I lived there for a short time when I was a teen.” Memories of panhandling and huddling in doorways on cold nights pricked his brain.
“Here you go,” the waiter said as he placed a glass of white wine in front of Ashley and a shot of whiskey and glass of beer in front of Smokey.
Relieved that the server came before more snippets from the past crept out of the dark corners of his mind, he picked up the whiskey and threw it back. “Damn, that’s good,” he said as he gave the waiter the empty shot glass. “Does calamari with hot cherry peppers sound good?” he asked Ashley.
Shrugging, she replied, “Whatever you want.”
He glanced up at the waiter. “We’ll go with that.” The waiter nodded then hurried away, and Smokey shifted his gaze back to Ashley. “So you like spicy things?” he asked.
“I like spicy food,” she answered, picking up her wineglass.
He watched as she brought the glass to her mouth, then pressed her lips against the rim and took a sip. Damn, that’s sexy. The thought startled him. In all the years he’d been around women, he’d never noticed the way they drank, let alone if it was sexy or not. But at that moment, the way Ashley was sipping her wine struck him as the most sensual thing he’d ever seen.
“What’s on your mind?” she asked, setting the glass down on the linen tablecloth. “You look like you’re trying to figure out some complicated problem.” A ghost of a smile crossed her glistening lips.
Smokey moved his jaw from side to side as his brow furrowed. A big part of him was angry that this woman was having an effect on him. Yeah, he wanted to fuck her—she was pretty, sassy, and had great legs and tits. Hell, most men would be lining up to get between those long, toned gams, but there was something beyond that he couldn’t put his finger on, and that something was pissing him off.
A giggle slipped from Ashley’s lips, pulling him from his thoughts, and he focused on her.
“You’re still doing it. What’s going on inside there?” Smiling, she tapped the top of her head.
“Just thinking about an upcoming project.” Smokey picked up his pint and took a long pull. “So how long have you worked for Zach?” he asked as he set the beer down on the table.
“Around four years. How long have you been doing construction?” Ashley broke off a piece of bread and nibbled at it, licking the crumbs from the corners of her mouth.
For a long second, Smokey sat still and watched the tip of her tongue until he sucked in a breath and glanced away. “A while,” he replied. “Were you born in Denver?”
Nodding, she replied, “I’m a native.” After unfolding her napkin and placing it across her lap, Ashley looked up. “Zach told me you guys grew up together.”
She keeps bringing the conversation back to me. “Yeah. You got family in Denver?”
“Yes, and what about you? Is your family still in Pinewood Springs?”
“Why don’t you want to talk about yourself?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she replied.
“Yeah, you do. You answer my question