Part 4 (2/2)
c.r.a.p. ”Sure.”
A wine drinker. Fussy and a.n.a.l retentive. How could she not have noticed that his jeans had that crease down the center? He probably dry cleaned them.
It would never work.
One down, many more to go, she busied herself serving some of her regulars and scoping out a few more potential single candidates, when another new guy walked in.
Dark blond hair, leather jacket, relaxed jeans and boots, motorcycle helmet in his hand. Must be tough to be riding in February, because it was d.a.m.n cold outside. His goatee and lazy grin were s.e.xy as h.e.l.l. He caught sight of her right away and headed in her direction.
She liked that.
”What can I get for you?”
He leaned against the bar. ”I'll have a Chivas on the rocks.”
Dammit. ”Sure.”
She'd been so hoping he was a beer guy. Instead, she'd gotten a rich boy playing biker. And he'd had so much potential. He probably rode a Ducati Superbike.
She refused to give up hope and went back to serving her customers and filling orders.
”Busy night.”
s.h.i.+vers skittered down her spine at the dark, s.e.xy tone of the man's voice. She closed her eyes for a second and let the sound of Ty's voice fill her senses.
She really didn't need this tonight. Not when she was man shopping.
She turned around. ”Why are you here?”
”Uh, to play pool?”
She looked to the left, and sure enough, two of the other members of the Ice hockey team were already setting up at one of the pool tables.
So maybe he wasn't here to see her after all. Maybe Tyler and his friends liked the atmosphere and pool tables at Riley's.
And now she felt like an a.s.s. An egotistical one. ”What can I get for you?”
”Three beers. One light, two regular. Bottled.”
She grabbed the bottles and slid them across the bar. ”Want to start a tab?”
”That'd be great, Jenna. Thanks.”
Mortified, she rang up the tab and decided she was going to ignore Ty the remainder of the night. She signaled Amber to work his table and to keep him and his friends in drinks so he wouldn't feel the need to wander over to the bar.
Then maybe she could get back to finding herself a date.
The rush slowed for the next couple hours, so she had time to survey the crowd.
Maybe she was being too picky. d.a.m.n her liquor as predictor theory. This was why she didn't date much. It was an accurate theory and weeded out the losers.
”Can I get a beer?”
She looked up and saw her savior in front of her. Nice looking, dark hair, a little long, just the way she liked it. He had on a tight-fitting s.h.i.+rt and worn jeans, a day's worth of stubble on his jaw, and spectacularly s.e.xy brown eyes.
Yum.
”Bottle or draft?”
”Draft. Regular.”
Bingo. A beer drinker.
She poured his beer into a mug and he paid her in cash. No fancy credit card. So far, so good. He walked away and she watched to see if he met up with a girlfriend. He didn't. He also wasn't watching sports. He sat at the other end of the bar with a group of friends-all guys-talking.
Okay, this dude worked for her. Which didn't mean anything. He could still have a girlfriend or even a wife, and this could be guys' night out.
She gave him his s.p.a.ce, waited on her customers, washed gla.s.ses, and when the time was right, moseyed down the bar.
”Ready for refills?”
He graced her with a thousand-watt smile, one that showed interest.
”Sure.” He looked at his friends. ”You guys ready?”
”I have an early call tomorrow, so I'm headed out,” one of them said.
”Me, too. You're on your own, Joe.”
”See you, guys.”
His friends grabbed their coats and left. He stood and followed her to the bar.
”Still want that beer?” she asked, figuring he'd take off now that his friends had.
Instead, he nodded. ”Yeah. I'll take one more before I head out. It's been a long day.”
”Coming right up.” She filled his mug and handed it to him.
He paid her and tipped her well. She liked that part, too.
”Thanks.”
”You're welcome.” He took a long swallow, but held her gaze. ”This is my first time in here. Nice bar.”
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