Chapter 24 #2
I didn’t think of myself as old. At least not before now.
I was one of the youngest tenure-track professors in my department in Boston, and Fallon kept me feeling young with her music and friends in my car.
We always got her the latest fashion and kept up with trends to make sure her Christmas gifts were as good as the rest of the kids in her bougie school.
As did the number of times I spent in the seats of a college hockey arena to support Ethan and his team.
But now, in the faded neon light, faced with a set of what I can only assume are maybe, maybe on the high side of my guesstimate, twenty-five-year-old abs glistening in front of me, I’m not sure I’m as young as I think I am.
“I’ve been with women leagues older than you and younger women not nearly as hot as you are, darlin’. I’m not worried if you aren’t,” he answers me before Dakota can, adjusting his cowboy hat with a smirk as he checks me out.
“See?” Dakota grins. “Besides, they both work at Madam’s. Anything I do here is tame in comparison.”
“Madam’s?” I ask, desperate for context with a name like that.
“Duke’s daughters. They own it.” Dakota offers me a clue and searches to see if I can put it together. I know who Duke is. One of the last of his kind, and a friend of my father’s. He put on a hell of a rodeo back in his day, if my father’s stories were to be believed.
“I know who Duke is, but I don’t know him well, or his daughters.”
“Oh, you need to see Madam’s in person. Have Charlotte take you up there. She has a membership.”
“Doesn’t Charlotte live in Cincinnati?” I puzzle at the idea of her having a membership to a place in Colorado when she lives so far away. Although Hudson and Grant did have her flying all over.
“She does. It’s that good. Right, boys?” Dakota asks as she slides shots and ingredients in front of each man. I glance over at Marlowe, and she looks as skeptical as I feel. I’m not sure what we got ourselves into. But that seems to be the theme of my life.
“Hell yes,” the two guys answer Dakota in unison.
“They’re just down here on loan for a few weeks. Training some of my staff.”
“So if you acquire a taste for it, you know where to come find me.” Mr. Cherry Popper smirks at me.
“Watch yourself. She’s about to be a taken woman,” Dakota jokingly warns him.
“In that case, we’ll have to make the most of tonight.” He flirts with me shamelessly. “Unless your future husband likes to watch?”
“I think I see why Madam’s is so successful.” I laugh and then watch as the other guy climbs up onto the bar in front of Marlowe and sheds his shirt.
“Sit,” Dakota instructs both of us.
“Her first. I need to prepare myself.” I nudge Marlowe’s shoulder, and she flashes me a look of worry before her eyes are snatched back to the glimmering, muscled chest in front of her.
I see her cheeks heat as the guy spreads his legs to either side of her and cants his hips back as he scoots into place.
He leans back, reaching for a napkin from behind the bar, dousing it with some well tequila, and swipes it over his chest. A liberal shake of a cowboy-boot-shaped saltshaker follows, and he holds out the shot of tequila Dakota already poured for Marlowe.
“You want the shot off the slopes or out of the shot glass?” He points to his abs.
“Uh. The glass.” Marlowe’s cheeks are bright pink, and her eyes dart up and down like she doesn’t know where to put them.
“All right. Lick the snow.” He points to the salt. “Shoot the shot. And then bite the lime.” He slips a lime, rind-side first, into his mouth and holds it between his teeth for her.
“Oh my god! Dakota. I am gonna kill you.” Marlowe closes her eyes but leans forward, timidly licking salt off the man’s chest before she throws back the shot.
She stares at the lime, slowly leaning forward and tentatively bracing her hand on his thigh as she reaches up for it before his fingers slip into her hair and tilt her head back gently to deliver the lime to her lips.
She takes it from him, brows knitted together, and the flush of color races down her neck.
“Suck it.” The bartender urges her on, and she does as she’s told.
“Oh yeah. Just like that,” he continues his encouragement, and she bites down harder.
He lets go of her hair to gently take the depleted lime from her mouth.
“Good girl.” He tenderly brushes her chin, grinning brightly at her, before he gets up as our whole group howls in approval.
Marlowe’s face is lit up bright red, but she’s grinning wide as she presses her face into her hands when Hazel lets out another whoop of approval.
“What the hell are you doing to this poor, innocent woman?” Boden Briggs, Hazel’s brother, better known as Bo, appears out of nowhere.
“Just having some shots to get the night started. You want one?” Hazel points to the bottles behind the bar.
“Depends. Do I have to take it like she did?” Bo looks between his sister and Dakota and then back at Marlowe.
“Only if you want to.” Dakota shrugs.
“You got any other options you can turn into human salt licks? A cowgirl, maybe? As nice as his abs are, I prefer mine a little softer. Intimidates me when they’re better than mine, you know,” Bo muses.
“You’re insufferable.” Hazel rolls her eyes at her brother.
“I bet I can find a woman willing to spit some whiskey into your face,” Dakota offers with her own cheerful brand of sarcasm.
“Let’s save that for later in the evening.
But I will take a tall beer. Whatever lager you’ve got on tap.
” Bo leans on the bar next to Marlowe’s chair, brushing up against her arm as he lays down his card, and glances back at her.
“Doing all right there? Your cheeks are the color of those famous red velvets of yours.” Bo unintentionally reminds me I need to take Fallon to the bakery because she would absolutely love Marlowe’s red velvet cookies.
“I’m fine. We’re just testing some things for Dakota,” Marlowe answers as she looks past him to me. “Your turn!” She grins.
“Testing what exactly?” Bo asks Dakota without taking his eyes off Marlowe. “Whether or not you can give your friend a heart attack? I think we need to get some ice water to cool her down before she overheats.”
“I’m fine,” Marlowe repeats, nodding to me in encouragement as I glance down at the whiskey that’s prepped in front of me.
“He’s right. You should stay hydrated.” The bartender, who Marlowe licked clean, appears with a glass of ice water, sliding it across the counter until it stops in front of her. “You need anything else, you come find me.” He winks at her.
“Thank you.” I hear Marlowe answer him sweetly as my eyes drift up to the man in front of me.
“Hotcakes, you got a thing for younger men we don’t know about?” I hear Bo teasing her.
“Maybe. Speaking of, where’s Cade?” she asks after Hazel’s younger brother.
“Rodeo. Up north.” Bo’s answer is curt before he takes a chug of the beer Dakota sets down in front of him.
“That’s too bad.” I glance over, and she’s off the barstool and stepped around him. “All right, Aspen. I need to see this and decide if I want to try this too.”
“You sure you don’t want to take my place?”
“No, this one’s all you.”
“Ready?” The shirtless bartender leans over the bar with a smirk on his face, his shot and cherry at the ready.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“You got this. I promise I’ll be gentle with you.
” He winks at me before he knocks the shot back, and his hand slips under my chin, tilting my head back and gently wrapping around my throat just like he promised.
I open my mouth as his brow lifts, and he spits the whiskey into my mouth, the cherry appearing as soon as I swallow, and I snatch it as he drops it off his tongue, our lips almost brushing in the handoff.
“Can I get a whiskey?” I hear Bishop’s voice, and it sends a prickling wave of awareness down my spine.
“Gentle enough? Or you want it rougher next time?” the bartender asks as he hands me the tied cherry stem just like he did before.
“Make that a double.” Bishop’s voice is low but loud enough that Dakota hears him and nods. I feel the heat of his body close to mine as he moves up to the bar, and my skin lights with the proximity.
“You were perfect.” I grin at the bartender, hoping to give him a little encouragement because I can only imagine Dakota makes for an intimidating boss, if only a temporary one.
“What are you doing?” I can tell Bishop’s question is meant for me.
“We’re working out the kinks.” I flash him a look.
“I can see that.” He makes sure I can hear the implication in his tone.
“Shouldn’t you be up with the boys in Grant’s office playing poker or whatever you all do up there?”
“I’m headed there, but then I saw the commotion over here. I see why now.” Bishop gives the bartender a once-over that I imagine approximates the look he gives anyone who gets in his way when he’s working.
“Is this man bothering you?” The bartender steps back toward us, and his eyes shift back and forth before landing on me.
“That’s her husband. Or rather, he will be tomorrow.” Dakota sneaks between and slides Bishop’s whiskey to him. He pulls out his card, but she shakes her head, pushing it back.
“Lucky bastard.” The bartender winks at me one last time. “Let me know if you need your cherry popped again.” And he disappears down the bar.
“Drinks are on me for the new couple.” Dakota taps his card before letting it go.
“You’re fixing to break up a lot of couples with whatever that was.” Bishop raises a brow at Dakota.
“Then it wasn’t meant to be in the first place. Can’t quit true love.” Dakota grins at Bishop with the wisdom only a bartender has right before she launches a grenade. “Besides, jealousy looks good on you. You want to give her a shot? I can bring you one if she asks.”
“I’m not sure how many more I can handle.” Or if I can handle one from Bishop at all in my current state. The bartender might have the ability to make me flush but Bishop would melt every bit of reserve I have left with a shot like that.
“You sure I’m not just too old for you?” Bishop smiles despite Dakota’s ribbing.
“That’s what I’m fucking saying,” Bo murmurs under his breath. “Apparently, my favorite bar is aging me out.”
“Don’t get all excited. I got a group of grannies that comes in on Tuesday nights to play pinochle. They’d eat you right up.” Dakota laughs as she wipes down the bar.
“He’d probably enjoy that,” Marlowe adds as she and Dakota exchange amused looks at Bo’s expense. Hazel doesn’t come to her brother’s defense and knocks back her shot, grimacing with the burn.
“Christ,” Bo curses under his breath. “I’m going upstairs where it’s safe. You coming, Bishop?”
He nods but turns his attention back on me first.
“You take another shot like that, you better let me watch start to finish so I can take notes on how you like it these days.” Bishop leans in so he can speak softly enough that only I can hear, and the sound of his rich, deep voice against the shell of my ear sends a shiver over my skin.
“I want to be sure I can please my wife.”
“Bishop.” I breathe out his name like a warning and watch as he smirks in response to the look I give him.
“Jones,” he whispers back as he pats his hand on my thigh. “Don’t get too wild without me.”
I am so very, totally, and completely screwed with that man as my husband.