“Oh.” He paused. “What’s wrong with it? Besides being basic and unimaginative.”
“That’s about it.” She shrugged. “There’s nothing unique or inspiring. Maybe if there had been I would’ve ordered a drink other than beer.” Jack served her the beer and she picked it up and sipped it. “What is this?”
“Moens India Pale Ale.”
“Huh. It’s not bad. Dry body, fruit hoppy aroma.”
Who the hell was she? A beer aficionado? Yet criticizing his drinks menu? “Uh-huh,” he said with his own dose of skepticism. “You sound like you know what you’re talking about.”
“What? A woman can’t know anything about beer?”
This time she turned and met his eyes and he leaned in a little closer, maintaining eye contact. “No.” He kept a straight face. “Beer is a man’s drink.”
Her lips twitched as if she knew he was bullshitting. “Do I look like a man?”
“No.” He lowered his voice. His gaze moved over her deliberately, then returned to meet hers. “You definitely do not.”
A little heat built as they looked at each other. Yeah, that was good.
“You can tell a lot about a man by what he drinks.” She lifted her glass and took another sip. “But I have to say, your choice in beer doesn’t fit with the rest of you.”
“Yeah?” He too drank, keeping his attention on her face. “Why not?”
“You seem like a guy who likes designer clothes, fast cars, and fine dining.”
He blinked.
“I bet you have all the latest technology.” She lifted her chin. “Show me your phone.”
“What?”
A smile played on those sexy red lips. “Show me your phone.”
He lifted one eyebrow. “That’s not usually what women ask me to show them.”
“Ha-ha. Whip it out, dude.”
Christ, she was killing him, turning him on and making him want to laugh at the same time. He pulled out the new Gresso Android phone he’d just gotten a few weeks ago. The sleek black titanium felt sweet in his hand, and with a one-point-two gigahertz quad-core processor and thirty-six gigabytes of storage, it wasn’t just a pretty toy.
“Uh-huh.” She smirked. “Very nice. And at home you probably have all kinds of tech toys, right?”
“Uh…” No point in denying it. “And you know all that how?”
“Well.” Her sexy lips pursed. “The designer clothes part is from what you’re wearing.”
Now his lips twitched. He glanced down at his Rag & Bone sweater, Hugo Boss sport jacket, and Prada shoes.
“Okay, I’ll admit it, I do like nice things.” He gave her a wicked grin and a small up-and-down look to imply that she was one of those “nice things.”
“Also, you’re a player.”
“You can tell that from the kind of beer I drink?”
“No.” She held his gaze, a smile playing on her lips. “I can tell that by the way you’re flirting with me.”
“A player.” He shook his head sadly. “That has such a pejorative connotation.”
She lifted one of those perfectly arched eyebrows at him. “Big words, Beer Drinker.”
“So drinking beer also means less intelligent?”
Now she laughed. “Of course not.” She held up her own glass and winked at him.
Fuck, that was sexy.
“Tell me why you know so much about beer.”
“I may or may not have worked as a bartender for a few years.”
Now his eyebrows rose. “A bartender. No shit.”
“No shit.”
“So that’s why you were so critical of the drinks menu.”
Her red lips curved.
Christ, he’d give anything to see those red lips wrapped around his dick.
At which thought, his dick thickened. Heat buzzed through his veins at imagining being in bed with her—that pale hair, those red lips and big eyes, her sexy little body naked…
She shrugged.
“Why’d you come in here? Checking out the competition?”
“Nah. I don’t work as a bartender anymore.”
“What do you do?”
“I started my own business. Consulting.”
“Consulting on what?”
“I’m a mixology consultant.”
He blinked at her. “Ah…”
She smiled. “I work with bars and restaurants and some liquor brands, developing their cocktail list, brand development, sales analysis…training staff.”
“Really.” Now he was even more intrigued with her. “How did you get into that?”
She shrugged and her gaze dropped to her beer. “I wanted to take the knowledge I’ve gained while working behind the bar the last few years and share it. Be my own boss.”