Rock Bottom (Dawson Family 6) - Page 26

It’s his business.

And I’m not going to let him be mine.

Though…dammit…I really want to.

“Thanks,” I say after he puts in our order. I look around, glad I got here when I did. The place is filling up fast. “It’s busy for a Tuesday night.”

“Getaway is always busy,” Dean notes, taking the stool next to me when the guy sitting there gets up, beer in hand as he stumbles to a pool table. “Which is good.”

“It is?”

He nods. “Very. My brothers own it.”

“Oh. Well, then, yes, business is good.” And that could be why the bartender knew his usual drink. He’s not a—it doesn’t matter.

“If you’re surprised by Getaway being busy on a Tuesday, I’m guessing you’ve never been here before.”

“You guessed right.” The waitress comes back with our drinks. “Thanks,” I tell her, taking my Moscato. “I just got a job at the new hospital and moved here.”

“It’s brought a lot of newbies into town.”

I take a sip of wine, which is much better than any whiskey would have been. “Unwelcome newbies? This isn’t a town that hates outsiders, is it?”

Dean chuckles. “If they look like you, we’d all be okay with it.”

I blush and take another sip of my wine. And then another. “Well, I’m from a smallish town up north, so if you were to say you don’t welcome outsiders, I’d oddly be okay with it.”

“Up north?”

“In Mich—” I start but quickly cut off. Tonight is all about having fun. “Canada. I’m from Canada.”

“Ah, I see. So this is tropical weather for you then.”

I laugh, take another sip of wine, and nod. “It hit forty-three today. It felt like a heat wave.”

“It’s weird even for us locals.” He brings his glass to his mouth and takes a drink. I have no idea what he’s drinking—an Old Fashioned maybe—but I really want to taste it off his lips right now. “How long have you been here?”

“About a month.”

“And you’re just now getting out?” He raises his eyebrows and I nudge him with my foot.

“Hey, now. Are you judging me?” I swallow another mouthful of wine. Is it too soon to feel it hit me? Since I ditched my date, I also ditched dinner. I’m starving and this wine is tasting too good right now.

“I judged you the moment I saw you,” he admits candidly.

“Oh yeah?” I cock one eyebrow and rest my elbow on the bar, still not knowing who this woman is, being all flirty and not too awkward. Not yet, at least. “Tell me…what did you think when you first saw me?”

That cocky grin is back on his face. “The first thing I thought was how much I wanted to lick that whiskey off your chest.”

Cue more blushing—and oh shit. The big sip of wine I just took went down the wrong pipe. I turn my head, coughing. Still want to lick me, buddy?

“But before that I saw something…something different in your eyes.” The cocky grin fades and for a moment, the confident air he’s putting on disappears. The moment is fugacious, over before it’s really even there.

“Different?”

“You look like you have a story.”

“Don’t we all?” I raise my glass a bit and then take another drink, mentally telling myself to slow down since the glass if halfway gone now.

“Oh, we do. But not all are worth telling. Even fewer are worth listening to.”

“Tell me, Dean,” I say and lean in. “Do you have a story?”

He laughs, casually plowing his hand through his thick brown hair, messing it up perfectly. It should be illegal to be that good-looking.

It’s a distraction and causes severe lack of judgement.

“I have several, and trust me, they are more than worth hearing.” He takes another drink. “But you didn’t come here tonight to listen to me tell you my story, did you?”

“No,” I say and bring the wine to my lips. “I didn’t, and I get the feeling you didn’t come here to talk either.”

I didn’t mean it the way it sounds, but there’s no taking my words back now. And more importantly…I don’t want to take them back. This is fun, and the way Dean is looking at me like he wants to devour me makes my whole body come alive.

“I did not.” His eyes wander over me, not hiding that he’s checking me out yet not being overly obvious about it. It’s like he’s not afraid for me to know he likes what he’s seeing…or more so, he wants me to know he’s liking what he’s seeing.

Holy shit.

I’m squirming in my seat, and suddenly words have left me. The sexy Rory has checked out and now awkward, foot-in-mouth Rory is threatening to stand in for her.

Racking my brain for something to say, I buy myself time by taking another drink of wine. The double doors open as a large group comes in, and a gust of cold air rushes through the bar, making me shiver.

Tags: Emily Goodwin Dawson Family Erotic
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