Chapter 27Hennessy
Chapter Twenty-Seven
HENNESSY
One minute everyone is cheering for Bryan and his team, and the next, Old Terry Trudeau is pushing his way through the mob to get to their table. I knew we should’ve cut him off after his fifth drink. This is the third fight those damn Aquatinis have caused since Walker rolled them out. Too much booze. And sugar. And blue. Especially for an octogenarian.
“I cannot believe I got my clock cleaned by an old man,” Bryan grumbles petulantly.
“Well, in all fairness, Terry is a Korean War vet, and he’s still in great shape.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” he mutters and rubs his jaw. “But how on earth was I supposed to know they used to call him Skunk back in school? Jeez, you’d think the guy would’ve gotten over it by now.”
I chuckle as I dab some hydrogen peroxide onto his split lip with a Q-Tip. He hisses when it starts to foam around his cut.
“Oh, don’t be a baby now.” I laugh, leaning closer so I can blow on the wound, and notice that there’s something in the way he’s looking at me.
“What?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t…I mean… Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”
I straighten up and stare down at him staring up at me.
Who does this guy think he’s trying to fool?
“Oh, come on,” I say with some impatience. “You live in a place where beautiful is the rock-bottom standard. If you think you’re going to win me over with a little sweet talk?—”
“What? No! I mean, yes, there are a lot of beautiful people where I live. But not like you, Hennessy. Not one of them is like you…”
“Please.” I roll my eyes and start to turn away, but he grabs my forearm, forcing me to face him again. This time, he’s the one who’s looking impatient.
“You’re not hearing me,” he asserts. “I think that you are stunning. And sexy. And so damn smart I can’t stand it. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about kissing you since the day I came to town.”
Before I can tell him I think he’s full of it, he grabs me around the waist and pulls me into his lap on the kitchen chair.
“Hey!” I object and laugh at the same time. And then his mouth is on mine. He winces a little, and I can taste the peroxide I just put on his lip. Still, that doesn’t stop him from devouring me, his tongue working its way between my lips to caress mine. I feel his hands on my back and my shoulders, and despite the thousand and one reservations I have, I find myself drawing in closer to him, wrapping my arms around his broad chest.
After a few moments, he pulls his mouth from mine, and then his lips are placing gentle, sweet kisses in a line from behind my ear down to my neck. He pushes the collar of my sweat shirt aside so he can kiss my shoulder, and I groan from the sensation.
“Bryan,” I murmur, “what are you doing?”
“What does it feel like I’m doing?”
“It feels like you’re asking for trouble…”
“Exactly,” he says, standing up and taking me with him. “I screwed this up the last time by doing nothing. I’m damn sure not going to make that mistake again.”
He carries me through the kitchen and down the hall, kicking the bedroom door open with his foot just as Foreigner filters up through the floorboards singing “I want to know what love is.”
Yeah, me too.