Taking A Shot

Tyler downed his in one shot, then laid the glass on the table in front of him. “Marshmallows don’t go with whiskey.”


She wrinkled her nose at the combination. “You’re right.”

They hadn’t talked about their argument earlier, but he didn’t seem angry anymore. She was glad he wasn’t the type of guy to hold on to his anger, or hold a grudge. She hated guys who pouted. It was much better to say what was on your mind, get it out in the open, and get past it.

Though they hadn’t gotten past it, had they? It still hung in the air between them, unresolved, and that was as much her fault as anyone’s.

“I’m sorry about earlier at my parents’.”

“It’s no big deal. I pushed. You have a right to push back.”

He always made it so easy on her.

“I have been making some notes about a new bar,” she admitted.

“Have you?” He got up and grabbed the bottle of whiskey, poured himself a refill. “Tell me about it.”

“They’re just some preliminary estimates on cost and potential feasibility. I listed what I’d want as far as inventory and desirable space, staffing needs, and things like that.”

“I’d like to hear about it, if you want to share.”

Surprisingly, she did want to share it with him. “I’ll go get my notebook.”

She sprung up and went to her office to grab her notes. When she came back, she paused for a few seconds in the doorway, struck by how utterly sexy Ty looked leaning against her sofa near the fire. The flames outlined the darkness of his hair, the masculinity of his facial features, the long lean lines of his body as he sat there with his arm balanced on one bent knee and swirled the whiskey around in his glass.

She inhaled, let it out, came into the room, and sat down.

Ty smiled at her. “Let me see.”

She flipped open the notebook to where she’d started making her notes. “Some of it is scribble, so it probably won’t make much sense.”

He lifted his gaze to hers. “I can read scribble pretty well since that’s how I write. Let me see.”

Out of excuses, she gave him her book, then downed the contents of her whiskey, hoping she’d find courage in the amber brew.

He flipped through the pages, murmuring to her as he did. “Your numbers look reasonable. I like your thought processes on space requirements. Have you given thought to electrical needs for music?”

“Yeah, that’s here.” She flipped forward a few pages to show him the notes she’d made. “These are preliminary. I figure I’d ask an electrician and someone in the business if it came down to needing cold, hard numbers for outlets and amperage.”

He looked it over. “Good idea, but your estimates look sound. What about staffing, for both, plus insurance and liquor? Would you serve food at the other, or just drinks?”

She poured another whiskey. “You think of everything, don’t you?”

“You have, apparently. You’ve got a good list going here.”

“I told you I was just jotting down notes. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make anything you do seem…unimportant. Don’t devalue yourself that way. This could be a big deal for you and for your family, Jenna. Riley’s is a huge success. If you expanded you could double your family’s income.”

Putting it that way made good business sense. “But wouldn’t it make sense to just open another sports bar in another part of town?”

“Maybe. It’s an option. But is that what you really want to do?”

No.

As soon as the word formed in her head, she realized another sports bar wasn’t at all what she wanted. What she really wanted was what she secretly thought she could never have.

Until she’d met Ty. Now she wanted things she’d never wanted before.

And she was tired of thinking about them, at least for tonight. Those possibilities gave her a massive headache.

She laid her whiskey glass down and reached for his, putting it on the table behind her, then climbed into his lap.

“Conversation over?” he asked.

“Yes. You’re leaving town for a few days and I don’t want to spend our last night together talking about floor plans and electrical.”

“What? That’s not foreplay to you?”

She laughed and brushed his hair away from his face. “Not in the least. I prefer my foreplay a little dirtier.”

He squeezed her hips, his hands traveling down to cup her ass. “Floor plans and electrical can get very dirty.”

“You can get very dirty. That’s why I like you.”

Before she knew it she was on her back on the carpet, Tyler looming over her. “Yeah? How dirty do you want me to get?”

“Very.”

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