Page 9
“Damnnn, girl. You look like you’re here to ruin a man’s night.” Colton eyed me up and down as he fanned his face.
“This one, actually.” I pointed to Hunter, who had already spun around in his seat at Colton’s antics.
“Wow, you look—” Hunter stood from his seat and pulled out the chair next to him. The spicy scent of tobacco hit my nose—and not the same aroma that wafted around the bar. It was bold, warm, and all consuming.
Hunter shook his head, still trying to figure out how to compliment me, if I had to guess.
“I look … like I’m here to ruin your night?” I smirked, finishing his sentence.
“Oh boy, you’re in for a treat tonight.” Colton grinned at Hunter before turning his back to allow us a moment to greet each other.
Years ago, I met Colton out and about one night with Peyton. We immediately hit it off when he volunteered to be the wing man I didn’t need but appreciated more than anything. He was essentially there to confirm if the men I entertained talking to that night were hot enough for me—his words, not mine.
Ever since, wherever he ended up bartending was the place me and my friends flocked to the most. Bluff City had been that place for a while now.
“Yeah, I think I am.” Even though Colton was now on the other side of the bar, Hunter addressed his comment with his caramel eyes stuck on me.
“What are you drinking?” I nodded toward the clear liquid sitting on the bartop.
“Gin and tonic. What can I ask the bartender to make for you?”
“Oh—” I giggled. “Don’t worry about that. He knows what I like.” I nodded toward my friend, already shaking a drink in his silver tumbler.
Like clockwork, Colton waltzed back toward us, pouring a dirty martini into a chilled glass with exactly three green olives.
“Thanks, babe. Don’t know what I’d do without you.” I winked.
“Mhmm. Holler if you need anything. I’ll just be flirting with the Daddy across the bar.” Colton whipped a white towel over his shoulder and headed for the silver fox sitting by himself.
“I take it you two are good friends?”
“He’s the best.” Taking the first sip of my dirty martini, I hummed in relief the moment it hit my tongue. “Yeah, I needed that.”
“Should I be jealous?”
“Of what? Colton or this delicious alcoholic beverage?”
“I mean, now that I think of it, both?”
“Colton? Absolutely not. If anything, it will be you who gets the extra attention from him tonight. But this drink?” My mouth wrapped around the toothpick, plucking an olive between my teeth. “Absolutely.” I licked the lingering vodka from my lips, savoring the harsh flavor.
“You’re trouble, you know that?”
“I’ve heard it a time or two.” I shrugged. “But I like the way it sounds coming from you.”
“Well, what do you say then, Trouble, you ready to share some conversation with me now?”
At first, I only intended to be a bratty flirt. But hearing him call me that little name sent a flood of unfamiliar feelings down to my stomach.
“What do you want to know, Mr. Hotshot?” I faced him with a smug grin, ready to answer whatever questions he fired my way.
“I’m all ears for whatever you’re willing to give me.”
Nervously, he ran his hand through his hair, and I couldn’t help but notice the awkwardness in the air.
“That’s kind of vague, don’t you think?” Toying with the toothpick holding the olives in my drink, I spun it around the rim before adding, “Am I supposed to just come out with it? Rattle off all my favorite hobbies and places to travel and all that jazz?”
“I mean … I wouldn’t mind knowing those types of things.” Hunter’s knee began to bounce, and he scratched his perfectly shaped, clean-shaven jawline as if he was doing his best not to say something to mess this up.
