Page 2 of Hungry Hearts

“Thank God. Now what can I get to liquor you up?”

“Trying to get me drunk?”

“You’re less likely to turn me down.”

She laughs. “I highly doubt you get turned down by many women.”

Yeah, I know I’m good-looking. I hear it on the daily and am not humble enough to blow off the compliments. Ladies call me a Hemsworth look-alike, and I’m not mad about it. Most say Chris but I’ll gladly settle for Liam or Luke. Although, I’m too tall to be mistaken for the third, underappreciated brother.

“God willing, my streak won’t break tonight.” Christ. All these God references, and I haven’t stepped foot in a church since I was a kid.

It’s got to be from the glow around this woman, like an angel brought down from the heavens.

“I’ll have a gin and tonic, please.”

“Lime?”

She nods and I make her drink, keeping one eye on her and another on the six people at the other end of the bar. I set her drink in front of her. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

It takes longer than I’d like, refilling drinks and making small talk, while I continue to glance at the sad angel sipping her gin. Finally, Kayla comes over and takes the party of four to their table. When the woman celebrating her birthday tells me they’re all set with drinks, I return to my lonely angel.

“Would you like some bread while you’re waiting for your table?”

“I’m not dining here. Just came in for a drink.”

I don’t remind her that the bar isn’t open to anyone off the street. She had to have a reservation, and it’s rare for guests not to want my food. The evening started off with annoyance at covering the bar instead of searing meat, but it’s looking pretty fucking bright now.

“If you’re going to take up real estate at my bar, I’ll need to know your name.”

“Yourbar?” she smirks, apparently not knowing who I am.

“My bar tonight.”

“I don’t know you well enough to give you my name.”

Oh, so she wants to play coy. I like this. Like it more than I care to admit.

“Name’s Ryder. I’m thirty-two years old, grew up in rural Ohio, birthday is April first, no April Fool’s Day jokes. I’ve heard them all. Unless you can surprise me with a new one, but then I may fall in love with you, and you’d be stuck with me forever, which isn’t a bad thing. I’m an Aries, not that I pay attention to that zodiac shit, but it fits me. Passionate, motivated, confident, with a cheerful disposition and relentless determination. Also, uncomplicated and direct with my approach.”

“But you don’t pay any attention to that zodiac shit.” She stirs her cocktail straw in her drink and the ice clinks along the glass.

“Only when it’s accurate. Your turn.”

She bites the corner of her bottom lip and I almost come in my pants. This woman has no idea how sexy she is.

“My birthday is June fifteenth.”

“Hm.” I take out my phone and do a quick search. “A Gemini. Playful and intellectually curious. Often juggling various hobbies, passions, and careers. Fearless thinker and quick-witted. Accurate?”

She lifts a shoulder. “Mostly.”

I scroll a little more and grin. “And well-matched with Aries.”

She chuckles. “Nice try.”

“True story.” I hold out my phone for her. “We’re destined for each other.”

“Too bad you don’t pay attention to that zodiac shit.” She quirks her brow and sips her drink with the confidence of a woman who just won a round.

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