Chapter Six
Roxanne swiveled on the stool, scanning the bar.
Mainly the front entrance. She’d give her best friend, Emory, ten more minutes.
If she didn’t show, Roxanne was leaving.
They’d made plans to meet for dinner weeks ago.
The busier their lives had become, the harder it was to get one-on-one time.
Sure, Roxanne saw her at every family function, but something had shifted in their friendship.
A natural progression since Emory and Ethan married.
Her best friend had officially become her sister.
In fact, in the last few years, she’d gone from the only girl in the family to one of five.
This was what she’d always wanted for her brothers.
Finding the loves of their lives, settling down, marriage and eventually children.
For a long time, she’d lost hope that it’d ever happen.
To say the Garrison brothers were a wild bunch would’ve been an understatement.
But they’d all successfully done it with a few hiccups along the way.
Everyone in her family was living their very own happily ever after.
Except me. Hell, even her father had found love again.
Though he was tight-lipped about it. They’d all had their suspicions, but any time the subject was broached, her father quickly shifted the conversation to something else.
That man will go to his grave forever protecting his children.
She assumed that was what her father was trying to do, anyway, for their sake.
They’d always been a close family, and losing their matriarch had been a devastating blow.
It was impossible to imagine her father with someone other than her mom.
But she was definitely open to it and supported anything that made him happy.
She lifted her glass to her lips, taking a mouthful. Was there anything better than a salt-rimmed margarita? Roxanne checked her phone. Still nothing from Emory. She’d been waiting for over twenty minutes. Where the hell is she?
“Another?”
Roxanne looked up at the bartender, Jase.
He’d introduced himself seconds after she’d taken a seat at the bar.
Was that standard? It is if you’re trying to hook up with a customer.
Her fuckboy-radar was activated the minute he started toward her.
He was good-looking in a stereotypical frat-boy way.
Tussled brown hair, dark eyes and a smile, she was sure charmed the panties off many women.
“Why not?” She shrugged and then lifted her glass, finishing off the rest of her drink. She’d taken a car service to the restaurant. Emory had insisted on being the designated driver and taking her home.
He eyed her, giving an appreciative perusal of her body.
It wasn’t the first time she’d been flirted with, though it wasn’t having the same effect as it had in the past. She watched as he prepped her glass with salt.
She leaned her elbows on the bar, giving him the once-over.
Great body, fit and tan from what she could tell.
Four years ago, she would’ve taken the bait and flirted back.
He glanced up, and his gaze heated. Not happening, Jase.
“Hey, Roxanne.” The stool next to her shifted. Roxanne momentarily froze with the exception of her heart rate, which instantly spiked. It wasn’t from the presence of another person but from the familiar tone of his voice. The hair on her neck stood on end, and goosebumps spread over her arms.
What were the chances?
She slowly angled her head, gazing from his chest up to his neck and landing on his face. The chances are good. Nervous energy raced through her veins. Was it normal to get butterflies in her stomach at twenty-six?
He was the last person she expected to run into at the bar.
But Roxanne wasn’t complaining. He looked amazing.
His collared shirt had the top two buttons open, showing off his chest and, more noticeably, his tattoos.
His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, giving an unobstructed view.
The green shirt accentuated his emerald eyes.
Playing it cool had been her immediate plan, but this man had a way of throwing her off her game.
She clasped her hands in her lap, trying to bite back her smile. Epic fail.
“Hey Jonah.” Her voice hitched when she said his name. Hopefully, he didn’t catch it.
Oh, the irony. And timing. She’d been fully prepared to spend the night giving Emory every detail of what had happened at his place.
Roxanne had given her best friend an abbreviated version of the night she stormed his house.
But she’d intended to fully dissect the whole scene and Emory was on board.
He smiled back. Ahh … great smile. His legs were spread, putting his knee and her thigh only inches apart. With one slight shift, they’d be touching. Relax, girl. Jonah rested his arms on the bar and lifted his hand, gaining Jase’s attention.
“I’ll take a beer when you get a chance.”
Jase nodded, darting his gaze between her and Jonah.
He seemed to be contemplating his chances with her since the arrival of her new companion.
If those were her options, Jase wouldn’t stand a chance.
She tapped her foot against the rail. This was odd for her, and she found herself nervous.
In most situations, she could talk to anyone with complete ease. With Jonah, it was different.
“How are the boys?”
He blinked, seemingly surprised that she’d asked.
Was her question too invasive? He licked his bottom lip and completely mesmerized her with the sliver of his tongue.
She’d never spent much time inspecting a man’s lips, but she’d taken a vested interest in Jonah’s.
Thick and a shade darker than her own. Last time she saw him, he had a few days’ worth of a beard.
Tonight? Clean shaven. She wasn’t sure which she preferred.
Get a grip, girl. Thankfully, Jase was a welcome distraction when he placed her margarita in front of her and delivered Jonah’s beer. She grabbed the glass, taking a hearty sip. Liquid courage always backfires. Pace yourself. She licked her lips, brushing the back of her hand over her mouth.
“They’re good.” Jonah said, and she peeked over to find him staring at her. Had he been watching her the whole time?
She traced her finger over the base of her glass. “Am I still on Cord’s shit list?”
The corner of his mouth curled, and he nodded.
“I guess that’s fair considering he’s still on mine.” She playfully shrugged. “What about Holden?”
Jonah chuckled, resting against the back of the stool. “I think you won him over.”
“I can accept one out of three.”
There was a small stretch of silence, and he scanned her face. She shifted slightly in her seat under his stare. Gah, who the hell am I? Why was she so anxious? He’s just a man she kind of knew at a bar. She’d been in this same scenario dozens of times. But again, Jonah was different.
He arched his brow. “Who’s the third?”
The third? It took her a second to replay their conversation. One out of three. Oh shit.
She laughed and cringed at the awkward hitch. What the hell was this man doing to her? She needed a quick recovery.
“Well, you do have to give up a Saturday to fix my car. I expect to be on your shit list as well.”
Jonah didn’t answer, but his lips twitched.
Her gaze drifted to his hands wrapped around his beer bottle.
His knuckles had small scabs, some older and others fresh, with scrapes along the fingers.
For some odd reason, that did something to her.
A man who works with his hands. She snickered at her inner voice and grabbed her glass, taking a big sip, immediately experiencing brain freeze.
She squeezed her eyes shut and felt warmth invade her space.
“Tongue to the roof of your mouth, sweetheart.”
She jerked her gaze to Jonah, who was only inches away. Obviously, he was reading the distress on her face. She stared back while following his instructions. Well, damn.
“It worked.”
“Every time.” He turned his head toward the hallway leading to the bathrooms and then back to her. “You meeting someone?”
“Emory, Ethan’s wife.” She sighed. “She either stood me up or she’ll rush in any minute. You never know with her. She’s unpredictable.”
She was babbling and sounded extremely awkward speaking to him. She was like a nervous freshman talking to a senior on the first day of school.
“But lucky for me, I have you to keep me company.”
Maybe it was the margarita talking, but why shouldn’t she make the first move?
This wasn’t decades ago, where women were expected to wait for the man to ask them out.
Jonah was the one who sat next to her. Obviously, there was an ounce of interest, right?
They were both alone at the bar, so why not grab dinner together?
Roxanne could excuse herself to the bathroom and send a text to Emory.
She’d debrief her on the situation and tell her not to show up.
As the plan formed in her mind, her sister-in-law’s voices replayed with their advice.
“That’s a man I would chase.”
“You should go for it, pursue him.”
“Yeah, I uh …” Jonah raked his hand over his jaw, looking uncomfortable, which sent a heat through her body. And not the good heat.
Out of nowhere, a woman appeared behind Jonah wrapping her hand around his waist, gripping his stomach.
She laid her chin on his shoulder, curling into him.
There was no mistaking the familiarity between these two.
“Sorry, I took so long.” She kissed his cheek and settled into his side.
“The line at the bathroom was three people deep.”
It only took seconds for Roxanne to realize, this was Jonah’s date for the night. Or his girlfriend of a few years. Hell, for all she knew, this woman was his fiancée. Roxanne had been ten seconds away from asking this man out while he was waiting for his date.