Page 31 of Feels Like the First Time
Bridget squared her shoulders, twisted into her most appealing stance, and plastered on one of those manufactured cool-as-a-cucumber expressions she wore for the world. An expression she’d never worn for him. Until now.
“Oh, Jamie?” She gave an affected laugh. “He had a business meeting in Silicon Valley. He won’t be back until tomorrow.”
“In time for the party?”
“Of course.” Bridget smoothed down her dress. “He wouldn’t miss it, and since he doesn’t really care about color palettes and wine tastings, he said he trusted my judgment.”
“You always were great at throwing a party.”
She smiled. “I like to think I have a touch with creating ambience, but I have to give credit to my dad and sister. They put this together, well, with the help of my friends.” She waved a hand around the bar. “What do you think?”
He held her gaze. “What doyouthink?”
Bridget dropped her hand to her side and gave a small shrug. More than fluent in nonverbal-lady-speak, Hawk understood that she wanted his approval. Which made no sense. She hadn’t given a rat’s ass about his opinions since the divorce, but he could tell she needed it now.
“I think it is very you,” he said honestly. The Martha Stewart decor, the couture wedding, even the starched and sophisticated jet-setting fiancé. It was everything Bridget had always wanted. And nothing that Hawk could relate to.
“You said the same thing when I decorated our house,” she said with a soft laugh. “You hated everything about it.”
Now it was his turn to shrug. “You loved it more than I hated it.”And I loved you more than anything.
Bridget studied him for a long moment, her eyes going soft, reminding him of the woman he’d known when they’d been alone. In love. “You’re one of the good guys, Hawk.” She looked over at Ali, who was sucking down a beer from a goblet, then back to him. “Don’t forget that.”
“And you’re one step from having everything you always wanted, so don’t forget that you need to let it go.”
Let me go.
Hawk gave a parting smile and headed toward the bar. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey, the one he kept stashed for moments like this, and poured himself two fingers.
“You okay?” Ali asked, taking a bite of her burger.
“As okay as a guy would be to watch his man cave turned into a tea room.”
“Your ‘man cave’ is used by the Destiny Bay Ladies Choir forThe Bachelorviewing parties,” she reminded him around bits of fry.
He crossed his arms. “Fine. Maybe it’s because you’re eating in my bar.”
Ali looked over her shoulder and pointed to the sign above the door. “‘Bar and Grill’ means people are welcome to pull up a seat and enjoy a burger and beer.”
“Not when the burger isn’t from my kitchen.”
“I like Burger Barn’s fries better. They’ve got the right crisp to grease ratio.” Ali sopped up some ketchup with her fry and offered it to him. “Taste for yourself.”
Why the hell not, Hawk thought. His ex was ten feet away, his pretend girlfriend was ten inches from his face, and he could use a little taste of sunshine.
Resting his elbows on the counter, he slowly leaned in and took the fry—with his teeth. His lips brushed the tips of Ali’s fingers and she snatched them back and skewered him with a look.
But not before he watched her eyes dilate. Heard her breath catch.
“You’re right,” he said, licking his lips. “Perfect combination.”
She waved a hand at his mouth and whispered, “We agreed, no touching.”
“And I thought we agreed to keep this simple,” he said, looking around his bar at the matchy-matchy theme and realizing the only thing that didn’t match was him. “At no point do I remember agreeing to a wedding magazine spread in my bar.”
“You should be thanking me,” she said. “I saved you from hours of talk about tulle and proper wick management for candles and which fork to use with shrimp.”
“Why hear about tulle when having it draped all over my bar is so much better.”
