6. Caleb
Caleb
“So you mean to tell me that you’ve never played pool before?” I was dumbfounded, genuinely taken aback at her naivety. My nine-year-old was already a master pool player. Having a father as a bar owner had its perks.
She shook her head and looked away, appearing embarrassed. I instantly felt guilty for acting so surprised.
“Hey, CJ,” Nicky greeted as he slapped my back. “Do you know if anyone is looking for a bag? Max found a sparkly, little thing on the other end of the bar,” he explained, gesturing to Max who was holding none other than a glittery small purse.
Grace raised her hand. “Oops, that’s mine. You can verify my ID. It’s in the little cardholder,” she added nervously.
Nicky laughed and looked at Grace bashfully. “Don’t worry, we trust you.”
Grace’s face scrunched in confusion for a moment before shrugging her shoulders.
Max walked over and handed her the bag, and she placed it in her lap before taking a moment to look at her phone.
“Nice bag.” I smirked, unable to hide my amusement.
She was definitely not from around here.
Grace seemed different from any person I’d met before.
She appeared apprehensive, almost scared.
She was effortlessly sexy. I stared at her, this golden girl in all her shiny glory.
But I remembered that she was not here to stay.
The bar didn’t seem like her scene. Yet here she was.
“How’d you get the nickname CJ?” she asked warmly.
“Caleb Jameson.” I pointed to myself with my thumb.
Grace burst out in laughter. “Let me get this straight. You’re a bartender and your last name is Jameson?”
I nodded, not correcting her about ownership because I was a bartender here almost nightly. I also wanted to get her genuine reaction to the place without the bias of her knowing I owned it.
“So how long have you been working here?” Grace asked, peering up at me through her eyelashes.
“I’ve been here in some sense for about twelve years,” I told her.
I couldn’t help but scan the room and ruminate over my hard work. Bar had certainly been a labor of love throughout the years. One that wasn’t without sacrifice and grit. I would say the sacrifices I had made were worth it. Especially now, seeing it’d led me to the beautiful woman in front of me.
She took a sip from her drink, eying me carefully. I was worried for a minute that she caught me in my lie of omission but then she smiled innocently.
“How old are you?” Grace inquired, leaning onto the bar.
Her chest was perfectly positioned for me to ogle, yet I held her gaze instead. I thought maybe she was used to attention for her physical attributes, and while that would be the easy route to take, I wanted to get to know her.
I chuckled at her question. “How old are you ?” I repeated, wiping the condensation from her drink off the counter. I should have given her a coaster. Where were my manners?
“I’m twenty-five,” she answered flippantly, then took another sip from her drink.
“I knew it,” I quipped, my lips turning upward slightly. I popped a peppermint in my mouth from the little dish in front of us. Guessing people’s ages was an occupational hazard.
She sat there quietly and gulped loudly. Grace stared into space, looking at nothing in particular. She appeared deep in thought and as though she had seen a ghost.
“Where did you go?” I whispered. The mood had turned serious all of a sudden, and I found myself curious as to why she seemed so scared. It unsettled me how much I cared.
“Just thinking about how old you could be. I mean, if you don’t want to tell me, I can only assume the worst,” Grace joked, trying to take the attention off herself.
“Old, you say.” I leaned across the bar so our faces were so close I could smell her perfume. Looking at her plump lips, I was tempted to kiss her. “I’ll show you old. How about this old guy teaches you how to play pool?”
She bit her lip anxiously. “I’m not good at things that require hand-eye coordination.
Hence why I am twenty-five without a driver’s license.
Well, that and my mother always insisted on having drivers whenever we needed to go anywhere,” Grace rambled, before widening her eyes and covering her gorgeous face.
“Come on.” I walked around the bar until I stood right next to her stool. Her face was still covered, but she was peeking at me through her fingers. I outstretched my hand, waiting for her to give me hers. “Nick, I’ll be right back,” I muttered over my shoulder.
Nicky shouted, “Okay.”
“I don’t—” Grace started to say but I quickly cut her off.
“Don’t worry. I’m an excellent teacher. You’re in good hands.”
Her eyes dipped down to my hands, and she batted her eyelashes at me. My cock twitched in my jeans. God, I was sex deprived.
Grace frowned and bit the inside of her cheek. “I guess there’s no harm in one pool game.” She downed the rest of her drink, grabbed her almost forgotten purse, and then placed her hand in mine. “Lead the way,” Grace instructed, smiling up at me.
I tightened my grip on her hand, the calluses on my palms a sharp contrast to her smooth, moisturized skin. I pulled her toward the back of the bar. Before we entered the pool room, I turned back and smirked, leaning in to whisper in her ear, “I’m thirty-five, by the way.”
She laughed and hit my shoulder playfully. “So you’re not just old but ancient!”
I chuckled and continued to fight the urge to kiss her.
“You’re holding it wrong,” I drawled, leaning against the pool table, unable to keep the smirk off my face. My sleeves were rolled up, exposing my arms.
Grace narrowed her eyes at me, gripping her shot glass like Noelle grabs her stuffed elephant. As though it was a security blanket. “I’ve held a few sticks in my time.”
I laughed at her innuendo. “Oh, princess, not like this.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically, though I saw the smirk she fought to hide. “You’re awfully cocky for someone wearing my martini all over his shirt.”
“And you’re awfully confident for someone who’s never even played before,” I replied smoothly, stepping closer until she was directly in front of me. I gently took the cue from her hands, letting my fingertips lightly brush her skin. There was an instant jolt of electricity that passed between us.
Carefully, I positioned her hands along the cue stick. Leaning closer, I murmured in Grace’s ear, “Keep your grip firm, but not too tight. Relax your shoulders.”
A soft blush crept into her cheeks and I felt her body warm, causing my pulse to quicken. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I’m relaxed.”
I hummed skeptically, afraid to blurt out other ways I could help her relax. I proceeded to move even closer until my chest lightly brushed her back. “Now, line up with the shot. Act like you’re actually going to win.”
“I am,” she protested as her bottom lip jutted out. Grace took her shot and immediately proved herself wrong as she missed spectacularly, the ball rolling in the complete opposite direction. She huffed dramatically, glancing over her shoulder. “See? Told you I was talented.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking my head, as I pretended to be disappointed. “Clearly. At least you’re consistent.”
She arched an eyebrow, playful but challenging. “Consistently bad?”
“You said it. I didn’t.” I raised my hands, feigning innocence. “It’s cute though. Definitely adds to your charm.”
She tilted her head slightly, her eyes darting from my eyes to my lips. “Are you flirting with me, Caleb?”
I leaned closer, lowering my voice. She was so goddamn alluring. “If you have to ask, I’m not doing it right.”
Her breath hitched and she leaned forward, almost unintentionally. “Maybe you should practice more, then.”
“I’m up for the challenge.”