“I’ll take him home,” Dean offered as he looked at me.
I would almost bet money he had a thing for O’Fallon. From the way she’d spoken about him, I knew they were close. And, as I watched him look her up and down, noticing that she looked different than usual, I was territorial.
Funny, she never seemed to pick up on it. Or at least she never acted like she did.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
Dean shook his head. “Nah, I’ll get him in the house. He’s done it for me I don’t know how many times.”
O’Fallon looked like she wasn’t sure what to do, but since Dean really was holding her dad up and her dad was a big guy, it actually was better if Dean took him. She would have been hard pressed to get him home alone. Selfishly, I was glad that maybe we still had more time.
“All right. There’s ibuprofen in the cabinet in the downstairs bathroom. Can you give him a few and a Sprite or something? He’s going to feel like shit tomorrow.”
“Consider it done.”
“Thanks, Dean. Dad, go home and go to bed.”
“I’m going to bed,” he slurred. “All by myself. Night, Astro.”
“Goodnight, Mr. O’Fallon,” I replied.
Dean walked him across the street to his truck, and we watched until they were both in and he was pulling out.
“Well, we’re here. Want to get a beer?” I asked. Might as well take advantage.
She rolled her eyes, embarrassed at the situation, then said, “Yeah. Maybe two.” Some of that spark she had was back.
What a weird night.
It all seemed like a dream. One of those really strange dreams you wake up from thinking what the hell?
From what I was wearing.
To who I was with.
Sitting passenger.
My dad drunk at the bar.
Dean showing up.
It was one peculiar night.
And to top it off, he still hadn’t guessed my name. Even with all of those other things to think about, him kissing me was at the front of my mind, overshadowing everything.
I was happy he didn’t dress up a lot. He wore nice jeans and a heather grey, V-neck T-shirt. He sure did like those kinds of shirts, and I wasn’t complaining about them either. I liked that I could see more of his chest. He wasn’t a muscle-bound hunk of a man, but the way the sleeves of his shirt fit snugly against his arms … it was almost torture riding with him.
We walked into the bar and I saw Sally first.
“Hey, Mutt. Did you see Dean outside? He’s taking your dad home. I didn’t see him come in until after we hung up.”
“Yeah, I saw them. What was my dad drinking?”
“I think he was just having beer. I didn’t realize he’d been here that long. I got here about eight.”
I walked up to the bar and Vaughn followed. He did that thing with his hand on my back that made me feel like I was short of breath.
It was uncanny how my body responded to him.
“Who’s your friend?” she asked.
I looked behind me and Vaughn was already stretching his other hand out to shake hers.
“I’m Vaughn. I’m taking over for Dr. Carver when he retires at the end of the year.”
“Oh, the new, hot dentist everyone is creaming over. Nice to meet ‘cha.” She was a bartender and didn’t even pretend to give a shit what anyone thought.
I heard him chuckle a little before he said, “Well, I’m the new dentist anyway.”
“What are you drinking?”
“Two Newcastles,” I said and reached for the money I’d shoved into my back pocket earlier.
When Vaughn saw what I was doing he tried to push my hand away.
“No, you’re not buying my drink. Let me.” He looked serious, but hell if I cared. He was about to help me get my drunk dad home, he’d made an awesome steak, and suffered through me talking about fishing for what could have been thirty miles.
“Shut up,” I told him quietly, hoping to convey my gratitude. “You can get the next round.”
I placed my hand on his chest, just briefly. I wasn’t sure why, it just went there on its own.
Then as I turned back around to hand Sally the money, he said low in my ear, “Tammy? Wendy?” He was close enough to me that the rumble of his chest vibrated against my back as he spoke.
Come hell or high water, I was kissing him by the end of the night.
Before too long, he’d bought the next round—and the next and the next—and we’d found two stools at the bar when a few people cleared out. It was kind of slow for a Friday night. The other bar around the corner probably had a band or something going on, must be why there were so many cars in town.
In Wynne, there were enough people to fill a bar, but it was a much better place for having two. If you didn’t want to see someone, just head for the other. I wasn’t much of a barfly, Sunny could be at times, but I did like going out every now and then. It was nice being at—what I was guessing was—the quieter watering hole that night.
It allowed Vaughn and me to keep talking, which let me look at him all I wanted. Had it been louder in there, preventing conversation, I would have defaulted to staring and looked more desperate than I probably did anyway.