Page 58 of Body Shot

At home, I try to get a couple of hours of work in before changing to go to Conquistadors.

Beck invited me to come to the bar tonight.

I suck in a deep breath at the thought of seeing him again. I want to see him again, even though I’m full of misgivings about that and what we’re doing. Also, walking into a bar alone is never a comfortable thing to do, even though Beck invited me. And he’s working so I’ll be sitting by myself.

“You’ll be busy,” I said last night when he asked me to come. “Working.”

“We won’t tell the boss.” He smirked.

I can do this. I clean myself up, changing into jeans and a top I hope Carrie (and Beck) would approve of, and walk over to Conquistadors.

I spot Beck behind the bar, laughing. Next to him, also smiling, is Marco, his teeth flashing white in his bronzed face. I wish Carrie was around so I could at least have someone with me.

Then Beck spots me and his expression changes. And the way he looks at me makes me feel less nervous, because clearly he’s happy to see me. He immediately moves around from behind the bar to stride toward me. “Hi, gorgeous.” He sets a hand on my shoulder, bends and kisses me, his hand sliding gently up to the side of my neck.

“Hi.” I peer at him, my belly fluttering even more wildly now, a different kind of flutter.

“Come on over and meet the guys.”

He takes my hand and leads me to a stool at the far end of the bar. About half the stools are occupied and most of the tables, a pleasant buzz of conversation humming along with the music playing.

“I kind of met them at the tasting.”

“True that. But you can get to know them better.”

If his friends are as charming and irresistible as he is, I’m in big trouble. I slide up onto the high seat and hang the strap of my purse on a hook beneath the bar.

Marco moves toward me. “Hi there.” He sets his hands on the bar. “You must be Hayden.”

“Hayden?” I swing around to look at Beck. “No, I’m Courtney.” I turn back to Marco and watch his mouth drop open and his eyes widen.

“Oh shit,” he stammers, eyes flicking to Beck and then back to me. “I’m sorry.”

Beck falls against the bar laughing and I smile at Marco. “No, I’m sorry. I’m kidding. IamHayden.”

Luckily Marco has a sense of humor. His smiles turns wry. “Good one.”

“Jesus Christ, you should’ve seen your face,” Beck chortles. He leans over and kisses my cheek. “Damn, babe, I’m so proud of you right now.”

I laugh. “It was just a little joke.”

“It was epic. What would you like to drink?”

“I don’t know. A margarita?”

“How about I make you something different to try.”

“Um, like what?”

“I’ll make you a Paloma.”

“Okay.” I eye him doubtfully, not sure what that’s going to be.

He leaves me and reappears on the other side of the bar. He pulls a grapefruit out of the small fridge and holds it up. “Grapefruit.” With sure movements, he slices up the grapefruit and rubs the rim of a short glass with it. “Salt.” He deftly twists the rim of the glass into some coarse salt. Then he squeezes the grapefruit into the glass, adds a shot of lime juice and some sugar, and stirs it with a long spoon. “Now the tequila.” He adds a shot, drops in ice cubes and uses the soda gun to top off the drink with club soda. “Here you go.” He pushes a paper napkin in front of me and sets the glass on it.

Watching him do that is like watching a slick performer. It’s kind of hot.

“Yum.” Intrigued by the grapefruit juice, I pick up the glass and sip. I nod approvingly. “That’s really good!”

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