Page 16 of Little Gray Dress

“I… uh…” I stumble over my words. “I’m so sorry, I just had the worst afternoon of my life and I stormed out of my brother’s house without my purse, or cash, or anything. Is it possible to bring it by later?”

Bartender stares at me, no emotion on his face. His head is bald, he has a tattoo showing out of the neck of his shirt, and he’s more than a bit intimidating in this environment. “You have no money?”

“No.” I try and say it apologetically. “I mean… I do, just not on me. Like I said I’m here staying with my brother, who’s getting married this weekend and he decided to have a party for the entire wedding party tonight without even so much as warning me and he invited my ex who brought his new fiancée, who is a girl I know… knew… and, well…I just needed to get away quickly to clear my head and think straight before I go—”

“I got it,” the man sitting a couple of stools from me says to the bartender, who nods before walking away from me without further questioning

“You don’t have to do that. I’m good for it, I swear.”

“It’s no problem,” he says, looking at me with a side-eye.

“Are you sure? Because I promise I can bring it in to you later.”

He laughs before turning directly to me.

When I catch the full view of him my jaw drops opened in surprise. I just assumed from the atmosphere of this place that all the men in here were old alcoholics who use this place as a second home away from nagging wives and irritating children. But this guy is not old. His sandy blond hair is a bit unruly, and the five o’clock shadow across his jaw looks almost intentional.

“Don’t worry about it. We all have bad days, and yours sounds…” He stops speaking and looks me over. “Sounds brutal.” His southern accent could make any normal woman’s heart swoon, but all it does for me is remind me of home and how I wish I was there right now.

“It was brutal, that’s a good word for it. Thank you.” I smile at him before turning to the drinks in front of me, downing the vodka and taking a sip of water while trying to keep my face from showing just how bad the shot was, since cute barfly next to me is watching. “You have an accent, where are you from?”

“Does clearing your head always consist of this much talking?” he asks.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll let you get back to your… uh…” I glance around him looking for whatever I’m interrupting, but all he has sitting on the bar in front of him is a bottle of water, in a bar, during happy hour. “Water-drinking.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He laughs to himself with a shake of his head. When he stands from the barstool he was sitting on, I can clearly see that he really should be an underwear model on the side of a giant billboard. Which immediately makes my heart jump into my throat.

He sits on the stool at my side.

“I’m Liam Jaxson. I own the bar. And I didn’t mean that to sound as rude as it did. I apologize.”

I reach out and shake his outstretched hand. His touch makes my skin feels like it’s on fire and I pull it away quickly, not wanting my face to relay what this stranger is doing to me internally. I’m not normally the sort of girl who’s attracted to strange men she’s only just met. I definitely shouldn’t drink this much this quickly on an empty stomach again.

“It’s alright. I’m Emi.”

“Nice to meet ya, Emi. Can I get you another drink?”

“Oh no. I’ve had more than enough, this wasn’t my first of the night. If I don’t slow down, you’ll be carrying me home.” I hear it as it comes out of my mouth and realize how it could be taken. “I mean – not carry me home… but you know, take me—” I take a sudden horrified breath “Oh my God… I didn’t mean you’d take me as in take me…” Sweet Jesus, Emi, shut up.

His laugh is intoxicating. “No worries. I got it.”

“Good.” I sigh and take a sip of my water and glance around the bar in front of me. I’m not sure if the situation I’m in now is any better than the situation back at Evan’s. The silence between Liam and me is awkward as I slowly sip my water and inspect the room. Mirrors line the wall in front of me, and all kinds of liquor bottles and glasses sit on the floor-to-ceiling shelves. Southwestern décor is sporadically placed around the room, making me feel a tiny bit like I’m back in Texas.

“So, besides this ex and his new fiancée, tell me something about Emi.” Liam finally breaks the silence, an awkward smile hesitating just at the corners of his lips.

“About me?” I guess considering that he’s paid for my drinks I at least owe him a conversation, even if it is forced.

“Yup.”

“Hmm… I own my own coffee shop in Dallas.” I’d much rather talk about work than about Jack. I own a successful business. That makes me look a bit better than broken-hearted, frazzled, forgot-all-my-money Emi.

“Dallas, Texas?”

“The one and only.” I never thought I’d consider Dallas home, but I love it.

“What a coincidence, I grew up in Fort Worth.”

“That’s the accent, then.” I smile at him, relieved to find someone who isn’t a part of this wedding or my past. “Oregon is a long way from Texas. What brought you here?”

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