Page 8 of Fake Date with the Mountain Man

I shrug and take a long sip of my drink to avoid committing to an actual answer.

The afternoon turns into night. Through the small window in the door, I see that it’s getting dark outside. The bar is getting rowdier. The drinks are flowing easier.

When Emmett comes back with another tray of shots later, I take two again. The third time he comes around, Hunter manages a quick sleight of hand and gulps down an extra shot.

Thank God for that. I’d probably be on the floor if I had to take another.

The rest of my night is a mission to drink all of Gatlinburg’s water supply so I can sober up.

On one of my many, many trips to the bathroom, I spot Ryan in the crowd. He’s talking to a tall blonde. Even though she’s probably the most attractive woman in the bar, Ryan is acting completely disinterested.

So, this is his tactic? Making women work hard for his attention? As if they should beg for the pleasure of going home with him. As if he could have any woman in this bar.

Okay…he probably could. Except for me, of course.

Abby’s words from earlier rattle around in the fuzzy corners of my brain.

Break the ice.

Prank him back.

This is the answer to all of my problems with Ryan. It will show him that I’m fun. I cantotallyhandle pranks. All ofthe pranks. I am the prank queen…not an emotionally crippled basket case who cries over spilled glitter.

Maybe this will be our thing – playing pranks on each other instead of simply hating each other’s guts.

Yep, this is totally the right thing to do.

I’m sure of it right up until my last sober brain cell screams at me to stop. But it’s too late. I’m already right there beside him, too close to turn back.

“There you are, babe!” I say in my cheeriest voice.

Ryan turns and knits his eyebrows in confusion when he sees me standing there. I thread my arm through the crook of his elbow and give him a quick peck on the cheek.

Guess I’ll be spending the rest of the night washing my lips.

“Uh – I,” he stammers.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” I chirp. My boob is pressed into the solid muscle of his upper arm. He’s staring at me like I’m an oily pigeon that has just landed on his shoulder. And across from us both, the blonde sucks her teeth.

Perfect. Maybe she’ll throw her drink in his face.

All three of us stand there awkwardly for a moment. I definitely did not plan this out very well. My tipsy brain sort of imagined her snorting in disgust, calling him a name, and stomping off in the opposite direction. Instead, the blonde stands there and simply watches us. She’s even more gorgeous up close. A smile tugs at her full lips, and suddenly I can’t help but feel like she’s in on the joke.

Shifting uncomfortably as the seconds tick by, I blurt out, “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend, babe?”

“Sure,babe,” he says curtly. Ryan casts a sideways glance at me. Annoyance leeches out of him as he speaks. “This is Blair; Blair, this is Marlow, my coworker.”

“Your coworker?” she laughs abruptly. Her eyes slowly scan me from head to toe. “You’rea forest ranger?”

It occurs to me to be offended, but I push past it for the sake of the joke.

“Yeah, but we’re notjustcoworkers, right…Ry-Ry?”

Ew. What? Ry-Ry?

“Um, apparently not, Marl,” he says.

“Oh, so you must be his date then?” the blonde asks. Her tone is all wrong. There’s no indignation, no anger, or confusion. In fact, she seems less confused than I am.

---