Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
“Hi, Hardy.”
Seeing one of my favorite margarita drinkers, I stop and swing around the back of her chair to kiss her on the cheek. “Hi Margot. Good to see you.”
“Better seeing you. Now give me a spin and let me get the full view.”
I’m tempted. She’s good in bed. She’s also married. Now. I’ll clarify that she wasn’t when we hooked up last year. Her being married means she’s off-limits now. I may live by two rules, but I make the guys adhere to that one. The last thing I need or the bar needs is an angry husband out for revenge. Anyway, ever since I ran into my ex-boss’s ex-wife, I keep things in my life less muddied. I kiss Margot on the cheek and make sure she’s good with her current drink before checking in with Eddie and Clive.
Just five feet from the bar, I stop. I know that midnight hair, lean legs, and another damn suit that does nothing to flatter her figure. Oh wait, maybe I do approve of the suits. Clive gives me a look along with a little head nod toward Virginia.
I feel the tension in my jaw as I walk around the bar. When I see what she’s drinking, it lifts just a little. She looks up and gives me an uneasy smile that looks out of place on her. I’m not all bad. I head down to break the pressure before it builds. Her glass has just gone empty and she pushes it forward. Standing in front of her, I ask, “Would you like another Paloma?”
“Are you making it?”
“Making and Shaking.”
Even I know how lame that line is, but she laughs. “Then I’ll take two.”
“Let’s start slow.”
“I was thinking over.”
Working on her drink, my gaze lifts to her. “I recognize you.”
Her eyes go wide. “Well, I hope so after what we did.”
I chuckle. “I mean this is the woman who caught my attention last night. Bold, empowered, ordering Gimlets as if she actually likes them.”
“I do like them,” she protests, sitting up straighter.
“Because I make a damn good Gimlet.”
“Yes, you do, but what do you mean you recognize me.”
I set the glass and a saltshaker in front of her and lean in closer so only she hears. “You’re tough, quick wit, and if I’m being honest, which for some reason I am with you, you’re the most beautiful woman in here.” I take a step back, wanting to leave room for my emotional outpour. I’d wipe it up if I could and reach for a rag out of habit. It’s too late. She’s enchanted. I’ve seen that look before. Now I’ve gone and done it. I bet it was the honesty.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“This woman sitting at my bar right now and that shy girl from last night, they’re two different people.”
“Which do you prefer?”
“I think you know.” I take a step back, not wanting to argue. This is leading into dragging those unresolved feelings up to the surface and I’m not ready to confront those demons.
“I’m sorry, Hardy. I meant what I said this morning and when I say it now.” She looks to her barstool neighbors on either side of her and then turns back to me. “What we did and how you treated me—it was beyond what I could have asked of anyone. I didn’t deserve you in the first place, but I definitely didn’t mean to dismiss you. I’m truly sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”
I sigh, already knowing I’ll accept. “I’m a sucker for an apology.”
“Katie O’Dowd said you might be a suck—”
Pressing my fingers to her mouth before she says anything more, I cut her off and tease, “You need to stop listening to Katie O’Dowd. She talks too much.”
“She had a lot of good things to say about you.”
“If she has such fond memories, what made her send you in while she stayed home?”
“Pregnant.”
Taken aback. I did not see that coming. “I’m not gonna lie. My heart stopped there for a second.”
She bursts out laughing. “Don’t worry, you’re safe. She’s only three months along and she’s pretty sure it’s her husbands.”
I start laughing. “Pretty sure?”
“I was joking. “She’s happily pregnant by her husband.”
Not worried in the least, but it’s fun to pretend. I wipe the sweat from my forehead and puff out my cheeks in an exaggerated exhale. “We should drink to that.”
“Can you join me?”
“Maybe.”
“What will turn that maybe into a yes?”
“Answers.”
“I’ll give you any answers you want.”
I pour a whiskey—neat—and say, “Come on. There’s a table over there. We can talk.” When I come out from behind the bar, I follow her to the table. Even in that damn suit her jacket is just short enough to show off that great ass. She takes a seat and I sit across from her. “To Katie O’Dowd.” I tap my glass to the wood top once, then take a long drink of my whiskey while taking a good look at her. When I set it down, I see how bundled and uptight she seems. She offered, so I’m going to ask the questions. “What’s your last name, Virginia?” The name is starting to fit the woman in front of me, feeling more natural to say.