Page 7 of Raised On It

As his smile grows, the heat I feel on my cheeks burns hotter.

Get it together, woman. He’s just a man, nothing more.

Get. A. Grip.

“No thanks, already have one on the way. Along with my check.” I say that last part a little louder so Beau hears me. I take a glance in the bartender's direction to make sure he heard me and to get my eyes off the man next to me.

Beau shoots me a wink, and I watch him fill my pint with care refusing to look back at the Greek god next to me.

“Go ahead and close your tab. I’ll take it from here.”

Wow, Katie wasn’t kidding. He's already living up to his reputation. At least his arrogant attitude will make it easier to resist his charm.

Choosing not to look at him when I reply, I instead stare at the same baseball game I couldn't care less about. Feels safer that way.

“Thank you, but I’m fine. Don’t need you to take anything from here.”

“Consider me the welcome wagon. I know everyone in this town, and I don’t know you. I think we need to change that.”

“Nah, I think we’ll both be fine if we don’t.”

“Come on now, don’t be that way.”

Beau interrupts and saves me from having to reply.

“One EBC and the check. The burger is on me. Welcome to town.”

“Thank you, but you don’t need to do that.”

“I know, but considering you have to drink your beer with this idiot bugging you, it’s the least I can do.”

I giggle another thank you and take a sip of the ice-cold perfection in front of me.

“I thought we were friends, Beau. Don’t do me like that,” Miles says from his barstool.

“You want anything, asshole?” Beau says with obvious affection. These two clearly know each other well, and I can’t help but play along with their playful banter.

“So, Beau, you seem to know Mr. Montgomery well. On a scale of one to ten, one being a virginal Boy Scout and ten being a psycho killer, where would you rate this guy?” I still don’t look in the farm boy’s direction, simply aiming my thumb toward him.

“The truth?” Beau questions.

“Nothing but,” I reply firmly.

Beau throws a glance at Miles before the prematurely salt and pepper bartender replies. “I’d trust him with my life but not my sister.”

His answer hits me in the gut. Of course he’s a good guy. He just can’t keep it in his pants.

“Is that right?” I question Beau but finally get the guts to face the man in question.

He just shakes his head and whispers, “Don’t believe a word he says. Well, except the good parts.” He makes a motion that says Beau is crazy and then gives me a wink, only his wink does something to me that the others I’ve gotten from my new friend behind the bar haven’t.

His wink gets me all hot and bothered, and I guzzle half my pint in the hopes it will cool me down.

It doesn’t.

“Listen, he’s good people—” Beau elaborates but is quickly interrupted by the topic of conversation.

“You know, I’m sitting right here, right?”

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