wedges as I'd asked for the first time I'd ordered. Excellent attention to detail. She was definitely getting a good tip from me tonight.
"Yeah, right," the other woman said.
If they hadn't been sitting so close to me, I never would have overheard the conversation, but in that corner of the bar, their words were clear even though they were soft.
"I heard he hooked up with Patricia Casper last week," the blonde argued as she tossed her long hair and nearly hit me in the face with it. Ugh. Rude much, Blondie?
"What? I hadn't heard that. Who told you?"
Blondie leaned toward her friend. "Patricia herself."
Her friend rolled her eyes. "Seriously? She was probably lying. When was the last time Ben had a one-night stand with a local girl?"
Blondie shrugged. "Pretty sure most of them wouldn't say a word because they want him to come back for more. A lot of the girls around here would cut a bitch to marry Ben Murphy."
"Sex isn't marriage, Gina," the friend said.
So that was Blondie's name. I made a mental note of it because I always tried to keep track of the catty bitches I ran across. Mostly so I could avoid them in the future.
My drink arrived and I slid a twenty across the bar to the bartender. "Keep the change." She smiled at me and moved on as Ben Murphy approached the bar on the other end, sitting in a stool directly across from the two gossips next to me.
At least he wouldn't be able to hear what they were saying about him as they eyed him like a slab of rare prime rib.
I tried to tune them out as they continued their speculation about who Ben Murphy was or wasn't sleeping with, who he might be dating, and how well he filled out a pair of Levi's. While I didn't give a damn about the first two topics, I had to agree with the last. The man had a fantastic ass.
Okay, so I lied to myself. I did care about the first two topics because I was just as thirsty for Ben Murphy as these women, which made me even more determined to ignore them. Yeah, I'm perverse like that. I hated that I had that in common with them, but, well, that was the power of that man and his Levi's.
Methodically, I took each one of the three lime wedges and squeezed them into my drink before dropping them into the glass. I stirred it a few times and lifted it to my lips. As I took a sip, I glanced up and my eyes met Ben's.
He was leaning on the bar, a bottle of beer held loosely in one hand. In the dim light, I couldn't read his expression but somehow I knew he was studying me. As it had during lunch earlier, my skin prickled as if his stare had substance, an actual touch against my face and neck.
"He's looking at us," Blondie-slash-Gina hissed to her friend.
Rolling my eyes, I sipped my drink again. Ben smirked and rose from his barstool, making his way around the bar. Somehow, he managed to weave his way through the crowd without bumping into anyone or spilling his beer. It was almost hypnotic to watch him shift and move with the bodies surrounding him.
"Oh, my God, he's coming over here," the friend whispered.
"Don't look too desperate," Gina retorted.
I had to choke back a laugh at that. Then, I sobered. It was actually kind of sad. These women were looking for something from the men they hooked up with, which was going to disappoint them every time. What they truly needed was inside them. I briefly wondered who or what had convinced them that their sole chance at happiness could be found with a man.
I was distracted from my thoughts as Ben rounded the bar and I got the full effect of his AC/DC tee and faded jeans. It had only been a few hours since I'd last seen him, but the picture he created was still like a punch in the gut.
As he drew closer, I could see his hazel eyes locked on me, keen and bright. The intensity of his gaze was unnerving, as if he knew I was sitting here, throwing myself a pity party for one. I didn't smile at him but I did cock my head, trying my best to give him plenty of attitude without using words.
He grinned at me and I think Blondie moaned. They both straightened