She leaned up and pressed a kiss into his bearded cheek. “You’re my sloppy drunk.”
He nipped her ear. “This sloppy drunk still managed to make you come your brains out last night.”
She lifted her shoulder with a laugh. “I didn’t hear you complaining either.”
DJ poured a pink concoction into their glasses. Pulverized strawberries floated through the mixture. “No sex talk unless I’m invited into the conversation, dammit.”
“What is that?”
“This is our strawberry lemonade. Perfection on a hot day.”
Harper squinted at her. “What’s the proof?”
“Zero. Virgin. Nada.” DJ waggled her eyebrows. “In fact, I make delicious pregnancy pops with it. A lot of moms wander in from the beach.”
“Oh.” She slid the glass forward and sipped. “Holy lemons.”
Deacon took his glass and gulped down half the contents. “Man, that’s good.”
She glanced at him. “Doesn’t it taste really lemony?”
He laughed. “If a lemon was dipped in sugar, sure.”
Harper scooped a finger into the ice for a strawberry and popped it into her mouth. Frozen strawberries. Smart. It kept the drink cold without having to water it down with too much ice.
“Stop studying it for a menu.”
She looked up at Deacon. “Sorry. Occupational hazard.”
DJ propped her elbows on the bar. “That’s right. You’re a cook, right?”
“Chef.”
DJ waggled her fingers. “Right, right. La-di-da.”
Harper laughed. She took another sip, but man, it tasted like she was sucking on a lemon proper. “Do you have some iced tea to make it an Arnold Palmer?”
“Your sugar buds must be broken,” DJ said as she turned to the cooler behind her. She pulled out another pitcher. “It’s only sun tea.”
“That’s fine.” Harper pushed her glass over to DJ. She pulled it back and took another sip. “Better.”
Deacon tapped the side of his glass. “I’m going with the strawberry lemonade. It’s awesome.” Deacon nudged her. “Must be that crazy chef palate.”
“Must be.” Harper frowned. “I am hungover. Maybe that’s it.”
“Well, let me get you some Rhi Fries.”
“Yes.” Harper slapped the bar. “That would be excellent. A gut full of grease will put me back to rights.” She slid off the stool. “We’re going to go find a booth.”
DJ waved at her. “Anywhere you want. I am the one and only master waitress, bartender, and hot girl.”
Deacon took both their glasses and followed her to one of the booths along the wall. “You all right?”
“Yeah. Just not used to hangovers anymore, I guess.”
“Me neither. We’ll give it a rest tonight.”
“That’s until you’re looking for wine later.”
Deacon gave her a dimpled grin. “It’s your fault. Dragging me to those tastings to fill your stash. Bad idea.”
She dropped into one side and snuggled in when Deacon sat beside her instead of across the table. He hooked his arm around her shoulder, dangling his fingers a little too close to her chest.
“Behave.”
He swiped his pinkie along the side of her breast. “You sure?”
She shivered and crossed her arms to hide the instant response from her nipples. “Evil.”
“I can’t help it. Those little cutouts keep drawing my eye right there.”
She tipped her head up, nuzzling her nose along his furry chin. When his thumb slid over the cutout, she closed her eyes. What was it about the coastal air? She’d never been so revved up so easily in her life. Just a look from Deacon had her aching and crazy.
He made her want to do things in public, for God’s sake.
What, like the kitchen of the Bishop house too? Like that, Harper Lee?
Okay, so that wasn’t on the coast. She was just happy to be around Deacon that was all.
She dropped her hand to Deacon’s lap. When he stiffened under her touch, she flicked her tongue along his neck. “Not so nice, huh?”
He groaned, shifting his foot up on the wooden casing of the booth to block anyone from seeing her fingers curling around his rapidly hardening shaft.
They should be beyond spent, but it seemed the both of them were more than ready for more. She curled her arm around the inside of his on the table as she scooted closer.
“Lawless.”
“It feels good, right?”
He groaned as she tightened on him just as he liked. Deacon liked a firm hand with long, slow strokes. His board shorts were loose fitting enough that she had a little give. She turned her face into his neck. “I wish it was my mouth.”
“Fuck,” he whispered.
She smiled into his neck. “Just a little bit of teeth down the length until I get to the silky soft head. The slit there that tastes so good, just a hint of you on the tip of my tongue.”