low lighting. It was only nine o’ clock, still apparently early for the college set, because fewer than twenty people were there. And those who were barely looked old enough to drink.
“I suddenly feel a million years old,” he said.
“You’re over thirty. To them, you are.”
“Is Jessica even old enough to drink?”
“No, but I don’t think they pay much attention here.”
Too few places did. Mack had zero tolerance for underage drinking in his bars. His bouncers were trained regularly on the latest in fake ID techniques, and at least a dozen people a day were turned away from his clubs. Bachelor and bachelorette parties were the worst offenders. Not a day went by that someone didn’t try to sneak in their younger cousin with a pretty-please bat of the eyes or a none-too-subtle slip of a twenty-dollar bill. Neither worked on his guys. Mack made sure of it.
“Let’s get a table by the back so we can watch for her,” Liv suggested, pulling away from his hand.
She stopped at a curved booth beneath a broken MILLER LITE sign in the far-back corner. Someone had carved a penis into the tabletop, and the vinyl cushion was more broken than not. “I shudder to think what a black light would reveal on this seat,” Liv said, but she scooted in anyway.
“Stay put,” he said. “I’ll get us a drink so we blend in a little more.”
“I’ll blend in. You have some gray at the temples.”
Mack’s hand flew to his hair before he saw her grin. She was lying. He pointed. “Not funny.”
“You’re so vain.”
He nodded toward the bar. “What do you want?”
“I’d ask for a Dos Maderas and Coke, but I’m guessing this is more of a Captain Morgan joint, so . . .” She shrugged.
“Lady knows her liquors,” he mused, absurdly aroused by the notion. “Be right back.”
The two women tending bar barely looked older than the clientele. They wore matching black tank tops with the name of the bar emblazoned across their breasts, and judging by the way the younger one kept tugging at the straps, she wasn’t happy about the uniform.
“What can I get you?” she asked, flashing a smile.
“Do you have Dos Maderas?”
She blinked. He shook his head. “One rum and Coke and a Sam Adams bottle.”
He carried the drinks back to the booth and slid in next to Liv. She tried to scoot over, but he slung his arm over her shoulders and tugged her back.
The side-eye she gave him carried enough attitude to fuel a sitcom. “What are you doing?”
“Blending in. We’re just a romantic couple enjoying a night out.”
“You wish.”
He did wish. Like, all of a sudden, he was wishing it a lot. He took a long pull on his beer. This might have been a strategic mistake, sitting so close to her. She smelled good. Not like the flowery good he’d read about so many times in romance novels, but, like, just good. Her skin had a scent like vanilla or something. Sweet.
He rubbed his hand under his nose.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“You look uncomfortable.”
“I’m not.”
She shrugged, sending her shoulder into his armpit. He swallowed hard. The door opened, and they both sat up straighter. And immediately slumped again. It wasn’t Jessica. A group of five women stumbled in looking like they’d gotten the party started elsewhere before showing up here.
“I’d never let that happen in my bar,” Mack said.
“Let what happen?”
He pointed with this beer. “They’re clearly drunk already. It’s just asking for trouble.”
He felt the weight of her stare. He looked down. “What?”
“You’re very ethical.”
“Does that surprise you?”
“Wealth and morality rarely go together in my experience.”
He shifted to get a better look at her. “What is it with you and rich people?”
“I just don’t trust them.”
“Why? I mean, yeah, there are a lot of bad people out there making tons of money in shady ways—”
“And rigging the system to make sure no one else gets ahead.”
“—but not all wealth is a sign of bad character.”
“But often it is.”
He raised an eyebrow, his desire to get to the bottom of things overruling the voice of common sense telling him to drop it. “This is about your father, isn’t it?”
She smiled. “I didn’t want to talk about him before, and I don’t want to talk about him now. Nice try.”
“Come on. You gotta give me something.”
She shook her head and looked back at the door.
“We gotta talk about something. What else are we going to do until Jessica gets here?”
Her eyes went as round as