Cheryl, who had been silent during our conversation, suddenly stood up.
“I’m gonna go visit the powder room. You two talk.” She looked up at Mike and said, “You can take my stool. I’m gonna cruise the room before I get back. Just in case Colt didn’t give you the full brief, she works at the garden center and has two daughters. They’re gorgeous, good kids. And she’s nice so, you fuck her over, you’re on my shit list.” Then she looked at me and said, straight out, “He’s got a son and a daughter and he’s single. His divorce was finalized two months ago, don’t know what’s up with the divorce, I quizzed Colt, he was locked up tight, Feb too. Joint custody. Haven’t met his kids so I can’t vouch for them, they could be hooligans. Beware.” Then, after sharing those tidbits, she clapped me on the shoulder, Mike on the arm and ordered, “Commence flirting.” Then she walked away.
I watched her move and I did it with my mouth hanging open. I knew it was hanging open but I couldn’t find it in me to close it.
Mike took her stool and leaned into me so I swung my eyes to him.
“Relax, Violet,” he put his hand to my knee, gave it a squeeze then took his hand away, “I’m all for flirtin’, if you’re up for that, but we can also just talk.”
“I’ve no clue how to flirt,” I blurted. “I married my high school boyfriend.”
He grinned and I noted he had a nice grin too, more than nice, it was devilish, then he asked, “Wanna learn?”
I laughed at the concept of Lieutenant Mike Haines, one son, one daughter, joint custody, teaching me how to flirt in J&J’s Saloon and said, “Sure, sock it to me, how do you flirt?”
“You want the hard core stuff or the subtle stuff?” he asked.
I picked up my glass and rested the straw on my lip, looking at him the whole time and decided to be adventurous. “Hard core.”
Then I used the tip of my tongue to nab my straw, sucked back some drink and saw his eyes watch my mouth do this.
Then his eyes came back to mine and he muttered, “You’re full of it.”
I swung my drink away and asked, “What?”
“The straw ploy,” he dipped his head to my drink, “advanced flirting,” I looked at my drink then at him when he finished approvingly, “the tongue, nice touch.”
I was feeling suddenly strange and I put my straw back to my lips, mumbling, “Um…” then I covered the fact I didn’t know what to say by sucking up another sip.
Mike went on. “Next thing you’ll do is tie the stem of a cherry in a knot with your tongue.”
I choked on my cranberry juice and vodka.
Mike put a hand to my back, which was easy to do considering I was leaned nearly double trying to take in deep breaths while still choking.
“Hey, you okay?”
I lifted up, placed my glass on the bar and patted my chest. “Just… went down the wrong tube,” I gasped.
“Take another sip, it’ll help,” Mike advised, I took his advice and he was right.
I put the glass back on the bar, looked at him and said hesitantly, “So, um… flirting question.”
“Shoot.”
“Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”
“Nope,” he smiled.
I smiled back when he didn’t answer and asked, “How old are you?”
“Forty.”
“Okay, I’m thirty-five.”
He was still smiling when he said on a prompt, “Right.”
I carried on. “And you’re saying, at our ages, the knotting the cherry stem flirting trick still works?”
“Sweetheart, I’ll be a hundred and two and that’ll work like Viagra.”
Shit!
“Why?” he asked, watching me closely.
“Just that, I thought you boys got over that at, say, nineteen, maybe twenty.”
“Nope.”
I couldn’t believe it. I’d flirted with Joe the entire time we were at J&J’s together. No wonder he thought he could take me home and fuck me.
“Violet, you okay?”
“No,” I told Mike. “Not too long ago, a guy told me he’d pay me fifty bucks to tie a cherry stem with my tongue. I thought he was jokin’ around.”
Mike grinned and said, “Sorry, darlin’, he wasn’t.”
“Shit,” I whispered.
“You do it?”
“Yeah,” I told him. “He didn’t seem impressed.”
“Oh, he was impressed,” Mike assured me.
I guessed he was since he dragged me out of the bar not five minutes after, took me home and fucked me.
God, I was an idiot.
“You get the fifty?”
“Kind of… we had somewhat of a fight the next day and I threw it in his face.”
Mike burst out laughing.
“What?” I asked when I thought he could hear me over his laughter.
He leaned in. “The next day?” He shook his head as I realized what I gave away or what he thought I gave away which was, essentially, what I gave away and then he whispered, “Darlin’.”
“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”
“God’s honest truth?” he asked.
“Hit me,” I told him.