Page 8 of Almost Dating
He watched as she slammed around in the cabinets, emerging with a cocktail shaker, a couple of liqueurs, and vodka. Now this was getting interesting. She expertly mixed the drink like one who had a lot of practice.
“Did you used to be a bartender?” he asked, impressed with her quick movements.
She shook it all up. “Smart guy. Yeah, I bartended in college once I was legal.” She lined up two shot glasses and poured. It smelled a little like coffee. He checked the labels. Amaretto and coffee liqueur. Sounded tasty.
She handed him a glass and held hers up. He clinked it against hers. She downed the shot, and he quickly followed suit. Yum. He shook his head. Bit of a kick there at the end.
“What was that?” he asked.
“Screaming orgasm.”
He sputtered. “Been a while since I had one of those.”
She winked. “Been a while since I had the drink kind.”
An image flashed through his brain of Amber in full ecstasy, screaming as she came. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He discreetly adjusted himself under the table. She poured them another shot, and they clinked glasses again.
“Down the hatch,” he said. They drank at the same time. Warmth spread through him. He rolled his neck, feeling looser already.
She slammed her glass down. “Why do men suck? Just be honest with me.”
He was used to women sounding off to him, the nonthreatening friendly guy, so he put it out there, the cold, hard truth. “Because they don’t appreciate what a wonderful woman you are.”
She blushed. “Stop. You hardly know me.” She traced the table with a fingertip. “How am I wonderful?” she asked softly.
“Well, just look around. This place is warm and full of vibrant colors.”Like you. “That tells me you’re a passionate woman who loves life.”
He worried for a moment that he shouldn’t have said “passionate” even though he knew instinctively she was exactly that, but then she met his eyes and grinned. “I like you.”
“Thank you, I like you too.” He smiled goofily, a little buzzed. “Plus you’re an artist. A very talented one at that. Not many people can do what you do. If I tried to do what you do, it would look like a chimpanzee got into the paints.”
She smiled.
He lifted a finger. “And you’re smart. You caught on right away to the brilliance of my birding app.”
She laughed, and he grinned.
“You’re kind,” he said, serious now. “Look how you welcomed in your new neighbor. Like you knew I needed a friend.”
He really did. It wasn’t easy to move into a tight-knit small town, the outsider. Sure, people were friendly, but he didn’t hang out with anyone on a regular basis. And it had been fifteen months, three weeks, and one day since he’d had a girlfriend. He really had to stop counting. The numbers racking up were doing a number on his ego.
She took his hand and stared into his eyes. He felt like they were connecting on a deep, deep level. It felt so good to hold hands. He could do this all night.
“You are my friend, Barry…” She paused. “What’s your last name?”
“Furnukle.”
She wrinkled her cute little button nose. “Really?”
“Why would I make that up?” One side of his mouth quirked up. “My real first name is Barrett, if you like that better.”
“Barrett,” she repeated. “Barrett Furnukle.” She made a face. “Okay if I call you Bare?”
He flexed his fingers like claws and growled. “Like bear?”
“Sure, okay. Bare, youaremy friend. From this day forward”—she lifted her shot glass dramatically—“oh. It’s empty.” She poured them both another shot. “Raise your glass, Bare.” She waited until he did. Then she touched her glass to his. “From this day forward, you are my friend. Deal?”
He smiled, a smile that didn’t feel altogether genuine because he already knew he wanted her as much more than a friend. Yes, she was way out of his league, but he had needs, dammit.
