Chapter Fourteen
The door to her bar opened and Jaime sauntered in, though for some reason he seemed less cocky than usual. Alma’s heart beat rapidly when he stood in front of her. His eyes raked over her body, and she shuddered under his gaze. She felt so exposed, as if she was naked in front of him.
Or maybe she just wanted to be naked. Desperately. Being near him was always so intoxicating, like the finest tequila. He was strong, spicy, delectable.
Damn, that man was fine. His strong jawline, his adorable dimples, those lips! And he was wearing a goddamn tuxedo, for Christ’s sake. The black fabric stretched over his broad shoulders, his defined chest puffing out of his vest as if it were made for him.
What was he doing? Trying to kill her?
Alma took a deep breath, trying to be cool. “Wow, Jaime. You clean up nice. I haven’t seen you in a tux since that Young Hispanic Leaders Gala you dragged me to in college.”
He smirked. That sexy stupid smirk she hated and loved at the same time. “I remember that night. Every man had his eyes on you. But you were all mine.”
Were was the operative word. Were, was—all in the past.
But she no longer wanted to live in the past. She wanted to be present.
Be Here Now like the guru Ram Dass said.
She had clearly grown up in Marin, a former hot tub–hippy enclave in the Bay Area that had esoteric spiritual leaders.
Many of her non-Mexican friends in grade school had parents who’d raised them in his commune, which had horrified her Catholic mother.
“They did. But the only one I wanted was you.” Was that too strong? Dial it down woman.
She changed the subject. “How was prom?” She poured a shot of tequila for an anxious patron at the bar and slid it to him.
Jaime whipped out his phone and showed her some pictures of him, Santi, Leti, and her friends. “It was wonderful. Leti is so sweet, and she had such a great time. I’m glad I could take her.”
Leti looked lovely in the pictures. This simple act of kindness Jaime displayed toward Leti made Alma soften toward him. He couldn’t be a complete jerk if he was willing to escort her to prom with no ulterior motive.
“She looks beautiful. That was nice of you to escort her and her date.”
“Honestly, I had fun. It feels good making others happy.”
Nothing he said sounded like a line that he was trying to use to impress her.
He seemed, well…genuine. She reminded herself that this wasn’t some guy who was trying to pick her up at the bar.
This was Jaime. The only man she had ever loved.
She had always thought deep down he was a good guy, just a bit of a mess, but who wasn’t?
He sat down on a stool in front of her.
“Do you want a drink?”
A guy yelled at her. “Hey lady, can I get another shot?”
Alma was reminded that they were not alone. “Coming right up.”
She was still running a bar full of people.
And unlike the first night that he had come in, she wasn’t going to bring her personal life into her business life.
She winced, remembering how she’d yelled at him in the crowded room, dramatically tossing out his business card.
She still hadn’t heard from that critic, but either way, she never knew who was in her bar, and with everyone having cell phones, she was most certainly not going to make another scene.
And she had finally accepted the fact that it wasn’t Jaime’s fault that the critic left.
She had screwed herself and might never get that opportunity again.
Yes, Jaime had surprised her, but she should’ve been able to control her temper.
It wasn’t professional of her. Alma planned to make an appointment with her therapist to deal with her anger.
She served the man a drink, and then turned back to Jaime. “Drink?”
A patron pointed a camera toward her. Maybe the girl was just filming the bar, but maybe she was filming Alma. Her luck, she would go viral on TikTok for drooling over her ex.
She instinctively wiped her mouth just in case she was actually drooling. Her red lipstick stained the cloth. She imagined that red tint marking up Jaime’s shirt, his chest, his abs.
Stop!
Jaime glanced at the back wall behind her, giving an impressed nod. “I’d love one. What do you recommend?”
“Our special is our blackberry margarita.”
“I’ll take that.”
“Coming right up.” She muddled the fresh blackberries, the dark juice tinting the glass. Then she added the rest of the ingredients and finished making his drink, placing it in front of him. “Anything else? Are you hungry?”
He bit his lip. “Actually, I see something I’d like to snack on.”
She tilted her head to the side. “What did you have in mind?”
“You.”
She laughed. He was just flirting, clearly not serious. “I’m not on the menu, but nice try.” She grabbed a laminated menu from behind the bar, wiped it down, and shoved it in front of him.
He perused the menu. “Actually, I’d like to do an official tasting tonight. Tequila tasting, I mean.”
She glanced at her watch. Quarter until midnight. Two more hours on the clock. “Maybe after hours. I can serve the flight, no problem, but I won’t have time to explain everything to you about the tequilas. Not with all these other people to serve. We’re understaffed tonight.”
“No worries, then. I’m good for now.”
A man in a white collared shirt flagged her down from the other end of the bar. She motioned toward Jaime. He took a sip of the margarita and licked the salt from the rim. Ay, she was jealous of the salt.
“I need to get back to work. I hope you like your drink.”
“It’s delicious, thank you.”
She escaped from the bar, and from the sexual tension, and walked over to the customer.
After attending to that party’s needs, she checked in on a few other groups, went back to the kitchen to order some more appetizers, and then returned to Jaime.
A few beautiful girls at the bar were staring at him, tossing their hair and batting their eyelashes in his direction. She honestly couldn’t blame them.
Alma tossed her own hair. Jaime winked.
She was doomed.
“About that tasting.” He licked his lips. “How about we do it when everyone else goes home tonight? You and I, alone. Then you have all the time to teach me about tequila.”
Her hands shook. She’d be alone with him.
Truly alone. For the first time since they’d broken up.
Sure, she had been alone with him making margaritas at her parents’ house, but in her restaurant, a block away from her king-sized bed in her condo seemed different.
Like there was no going back. This was the point of no return, and for once, she was being honest with herself about what and who she wanted.
She wanted Jaime.
Tonight. She craved the way he’d once made her feel, the pleasure he’d given her, a joy that she had not experienced since and wasn’t sure she ever would with that intensity again.
“I’ll think about it.” She paused. If he was going to sit here all night and wait for her to get off—er, get off work, then he could help out. He grew up in the restaurant business; he had to be useful.
She threw him an apron that was tucked behind the bar.
He scratched his jaw. “What’s this for?”
“If you want that tasting tonight, you’re going to have to work for it. It’s only midnight. We don’t close for a couple more hours.”
Jaime hopped off the stool, grabbed the apron, and tied it around his muscular body.
He walked behind the bar and whispered in her ear, “What would you like me to do?” His hot breath blew on her neck, and she melted.
Me? Here? In front of all these people?
Ah, the thought of him taking her, going down on her on the bar, everyone watching, excited her. What had gotten into her? She’d never had an exhibitionism kink before.
Her mind was wild. Time to focus. What had he asked her?
Oh, right, how to help. She scanned the bar. Little green orbs beckoned.
Limes! Limes are good. She knew from the previous night that his knife skills, like all his skills, were impeccable. She handed him a sharp knife. “Okay, please slice some limes and these jalapenos.”
“Sí, Senorita.” He washed his hands in the sink and then stood behind the counter.
She placed a chopping board in front of him and he went to work.
She tried not to hover over him and watch him, but he fascinated her.
His slicing skills were on point. Hell, she’d hire him.
Not that he needed a job. Or lived here.
Or that them spending any more time together was remotely a good idea.
Two weeks ago, she’d been completely focused on her job and on hopefully getting a great review from that critic.
And now, her mind was all over the place and she was fantasizing about her ex fucking her in her bar in front of her customers.
She forced herself to pretend he wasn’t there and went back to making cocktails and chatting with patrons.
On this spring pre–Cinco de Mayo day, the bar was busier than usual, for which she was grateful.
Another party of gorgeous women walked over to the bar and beelined straight for Jaime.
Alma greeted them and asked for their orders, but they ignored her. Alrighty then.
One of them pointed at Jaime. “He can make my drink.”
Alas. A flash of her getting so jealous when they were younger after girls would hit on him in front of her. But this time, she just smiled. “He’s not a bartender. I am. But I’ll make sure he personally slices your garnishes. Now what can I get you ladies?”
The girls ordered a variety of fruity margaritas. One stared at Jaime, but he didn’t even meet her gaze. Alma served the ladies the drinks and they went to their table.
One of her other barbacks, José, pointed to Jaime. “Who is that? Did you hire someone new?”
“No. His name is Jaime. He’s just…helping me tonight.”
José cackled like a hyena. “Helping you with what?”
“José. Do you have something to say?”
“Nada, mi jefa.”
But she knew José could see right through her.