Page 17 of Not Part of the Plan
And she was making a huge mistake.
“You can follow me over to Shorty’s.”
CHAPTER SIX
The parking lot of Blue Moon’s only bar still had a dozen vehicles—including a handful of hybrids, rugged pickups, and one tractor—in it when they arrived.
Neon signs proudly promising ice-cold beer brands glowed in the windows. On the inside, it could have passed for any normal bar in any normal part of the country, except for the Jimi Hendrix and Woodstock art adorning the walls. Touches of tie-dye and wheat grass vodka shots listed on the menu reminded Niko that Blue Moon was closer to Oz than New York.
He followed Emma on shaky legs as she maneuvered her way through the tight tables to the L-shaped bar. Even after her shift of chaos management at the brewery and a workout for super heroes, she still moved with purpose. He, on the other hand, could barely stand.
The sound she’d heard at the gym was indeed a body hitting the floor. His after his knees gave out. Niko had always thought of himself as fit. He was a New Yorker, and as such, walked everywhere. He frequented a gym and often worked up a sweat. A brisk jog on the treadmill followed by crunches and weights was an enjoyable way to maintain his physique and keep up with any woman’s demands in bed.
But what Emma had unintentionally goaded him into had been a holy terror of a workout. He’d just decided on claiming a fake hamstring pull or an emergency phone call when she’d finally declared the torture over.
Niko wondered if Emmaline Merill would be the first woman he’d fail to keep up with in bed. Not that they were lovers, of course. But if their friendship happened to evolve…
With great relief, he slid his aching body onto the barstool next to Emma’s, stifling a whimper.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the competition,” said the point guard-sized bartender, winking at Emma as he doled out drink napkins.
“Gotta update my corporate espionage files.” Emma wriggled her eyebrows, playing along. “Ed, this is Niko. Niko, Ed—or Shorty as he’s affectionately known in his family.”
“Runt of the litter,” Ed explained and offered a dinner plate-sized hand over the bar. “Welcome to Shorty’s.”
“Thanks,” Niko said, shaking his hand.
“What brings you two out so late?” Ed asked, handing over menus.
“We ran into each other at the gym,” Emma said, perusing the menu. “Niko is staying with Summer and Carter who’ve been in bed for hours.”
“Ah,” Ed nodded in understanding. “New Yorker?”
“Born and raised.”
“You must be enjoying the nightlife that Blue Moon has to offer,” Ed joked.
“Ed here is a real comedian,” Emma said dryly.
“So what post-workout beverages can I interest you two in?”
“Dirty martini, please,” Emma decided.
“I feel like it would be culturally inappropriate of me to drink in Blue Moon without trying a wheat grass shot,” Niko mused.
“You could be run out of town,” Ed agreed. “Chaser?”
“Beer.”
Ed headed off to make their drinks, and Emma raised a speculative eyebrow at Niko.
“What?” he shrugged. “I’m embracing the local culture.”
“You know, there’s something to be said for tried and true.” She pointed at Ed pouring organic vodka into a cocktail shaker.
“But if you stick with tried and true, how will you know what you’re missing out on?” Niko countered.
“I thought I was the one asking the questions?” Emma reminded him.
