4. Zoe
4
Zoe
“When life throws lemons, catch them and make a cocktail.” – Unknown
T alking myself out of moving here was a whole lot easier before I discovered that the local bar called Love and Peace—or LPs for short—is up and running at ten AM and that is quickly swaying my opinion to the “big, fat yes” side.
I am not even sure why I came here in the first place since I can’t drink, all I knew was that I needed to get away from those happy in love couples.
I’ve spent the whole day yesterday with the lot, learning all about Hope and Alec’s story as he made a bet with her to prove that romance is not dead. And he did, so now, she’s wearing his unconventional ring on her finger. Then learning in great detail how far gone my boss is for the Viking guy with the kind smile and shark slides and their plant babies. Seriously, how did she do it? How did she move on from that bastard Justin so fast? But even as I was asking myself those questions, I already knew the answer. The way Jacob watches Joy, the way he seems to know her needs before she has a chance to say them out loud, speak volumes. They speak, undeniable love. The kind that can heal the worst of cracks. And it warms my heart that my baby has an uncle like that.
That was the real shocker for me.
Yeah, Jacob and Justin are brothers. Half-brothers, but still…my mind is still catching up to this news. And apparently, they are so estranged, Jacob doesn’t even consider him as one, and after a few minutes of colorful curses he said the only good thing the bastard has done was donate his DNA to his future niece or nephew.
Do you think Joy would be okay if we became sister wives? Because I want my own Jacob.
Even Grace and Luke’s story made me envious. To carry their love over years, to hurt and break only to be put back together by fate. Or local crazies—aka their mothers.
It was all too much. And when they invited me to join them at the beach this morning, I already knew I wouldn’t last long.
I am very happy for these three sisters. I truly am. But I can’t be around them right now.
Every time I see their love, my heart aches for that feeling.
Have I ever been in love like that? So all-consuming? So big it spills over the town limits? So fluffy everyone around you wants to puke?
I thought I loved Justin but that wasn’t love. It was a pathetic excuse at affection and sex. No fluff there. No, ma’am.
I open the door and step inside the bar expecting it to be empty, instead it is half full with what seems like half of the female population of LC and the other half is of whole bunch of locals drinking weird looking cocktails, some muddy looking concoctions in to-go cups from Sip of Love coffee shop I saw earlier.
Why are there so many people in the bar at ten AM? And then my lungs register the delicious smelling food they are all eating away, which is a weird thing for me to say by itself because the past month the only thing that has smelled good was water and even then, I managed to puke from the smell of it. And I guess it makes sense it would be a popular place.
Huh, I am really liking this bar already, despite the crowd. I have no idea why Joy was going all crazy in telling me to stay away from here.
Noting the long L-shaped bar on the left side, I make my way over and prop myself up on one of the only free bar stools closer to the corner. Fine by me.
I sit down comfortably and look around. Everything here is in different color and styles. There doesn’t seem to be a single piece of furniture that matches in here and somehow it works out quite nicely. The whole bar gives off major hippy, relaxed vibes and I am here for it.
Relax me away, LPs.
Not a second after I decide to relax, my whole body tenses up as my breath gets caught somewhere in my stomach because it couldn’t even bother to make its way up as soon as I saw the man standing in front of me. Smiling the most dazzling smile. The one that reflects in his dark, warm eyes.
“Well, hello there, Sunshine,” the most beautiful stranger whom I somehow didn’t notice as soon as I walked in says in the sexiest raspy voice I’ve ever heard. I think his appearance coupled with that voice has rendered me speechless and a little bit stupid because I can’t for the life of me produce a sound.
I open and close my mouth a few times and watch as his head tips to the side regarding me with curiosity while that dazzling smile turns downright cocky because he definitely knows what he’s doing to me right now.
Great, I’ve stooped down to gawking at sexy bartenders. The ones who have “flirt and have sex” with your customers written down in their contracts. Because he is definitely that kind of bartender. I mean, look at him. I almost want to take both of my hands and point at the man standing in front of me.
Long dark hair that is gathered in a messy bun at the back. Dark, mesmerizing eyes, that smile. The short, trimmed beard, the thin silver chain peeking from his half-unbuttoned short sleeved shirt, and don’t even get me started on his toned, not-too-buff form. And the damn tattoos. Of course he has a damn tattoo on his arm and one on his chest that is also peeking from beneath his shirt.
And even if I was the kind of girl who was in a position to have a one-night stand, I would sure keep my distance from this one because he has that whole I-will-rock-your-world-and-destroy-you-for-all-future-men look written all over his handsome face.
No, thank you. I am still planning to have satisfying orgasms in my life later on. Way later on. So later on that I don’t even see it on the horizon. But nevertheless, I don’t need anyone messing with my future orgasms.
“Can I get you something or are you just window shopping today?” he asks me with amusement.
“I’ll take a water.” Because I sure need it to cool down my suddenly burning insides.
“Water?” He lowers his chin and arches one eyebrow at me.
“Yep.”
“Okay, one fresh H2O with delicious, crisp ice coming right up.” He smiles again and then proceeds to make a cocktail with just one ingredient. Water.
He even uses the shaker, tossing and turning it as if he is putting on a show here for me and despite myself, I feel the corners of my mouth tip up just as my thighs clench because talk about arm porn.
This guy is ridiculous.
But hell, maybe I'll take some window shopping with my water as well. Looking is not a crime, right? Just no touching, Zoe!
With his tongue poking out in the corner of his mouth, he pours it into a martini glass, propping a lemon twist on top and slides it my way with that same dazzling smile but he doesn’t retract his fingers from the stem of the glass, and I don’t notice it before I go to grab it. Suddenly feeling very parched, my fingers wrap around his, and I swear we must’ve both got electrocuted right that second because our eyes snap up to each other that same moment. And both are filled with the same question. What was that?