3. Izzy
Izzy
I was thinking we’d get our drinks and then bring them to one of the little tables tucked into a corner, but we did not.
Zach pulls out one of the high stools right at the bar, offering me a seat.
It takes a bit of wiggling to scoot myself up, but luckily he’s pulling out his own stool next to mine, so I have a moment of privacy to get situated.
The seat is quite comfortable. It doesn’t have arm rests, but it does have a tall back. And it swivels.
The bartender approaches us, giving me another respite to compose myself before I have to face Zach one-on-one, as he asks -. “What can I get you two to drink?”
This bartender has Hipster written across his forehead.
I mean - not literally, but the pointy beard, flannel buttoned all the way to the top, and horn-rimmed glasses say it for him.
He’s nice looking, if you’re into that sort of thing.
And normally I would be. But I have to admit I’m entirely on board with the sexy Bad Boy look of Zach at the moment.
“Ladies first -” Zach says, placing one of his big hands on my forearm resting atop the bar.
Ack, I can’t think when he’s touching me!
I try to think of a drink name, any name, but I draw a blank. “Oh, um, do you have a house special?”
The bar tender smiles. “I do. I think you’ll like it," he turns to Zach.
“Vodka tonic, please.”
Vodka. Interesting. I’d have taken him more for a dark liquor kind of guy.
The bartender steps away to make our drinks.
I bite my lip. Now I’m nervous.
My chair starts to slowly turn towards Zach. He’s moved to face me, and is using a hand on the back of my stool to turn me until I’m facing him.
Oh boy. This is really happening.
There’s a gleam in his eyes when he looks to where my teeth sink into my lower lip. I quickly release my bite and unconsciously dart my tongue out to wet the sting I created. I swear I hear him groan.
When his gaze leaves my mouth to meet mine, he smirks. “ Hi. ”
“ Hi, ” I say back, knowing I’m blushing furiously.
“So, my sweet little Izzy, what brings you out tonight?”
I feel like I have a turtledove flapping around inside my ribcage. Zach’s close presence, combined with the fact that he called me little , has me swooning. Honestly though, even with my extra curviness, I do feel little next to this man. And I like it. So I decide to answer him truthfully.
“Well, my big burly Zach, I came here hoping to have fun.”
“Fun?” He cocks a brow. “I’d say that’s a goal we can manage. Shall we set some ground rules?”
“Ground rules?” I’m sure I look as confused as I feel.
“Yeah. If we want to stick to fun , let’s say no talking about work. ”
“That means we don’t even tell each other what we do?”
“Correct.”
I wonder if this means he doesn’t have a job.
I dismiss the thought almost as quickly as it comes.
His dark wash jeans and black long-sleeve cotton shirt are plain, but expensive-looking.
He must make money somehow. This also means I don’t need to talk about my job.
Which is good, because the last thing I want is for him to be a hockey fan who starts asking me all about the players I work with. That would be a mood killer.
“Agreed.” I nod. “No discussions about work. And no family.” I don’t have much family, so it’s not that it’d be a big topic for me, but if I’m going to have sex with this guy later I don’t want to talk about his mom or sisters tonight. That’s just weird.
“No family.” He nods. “Agreed. Anything else you want to keep off the table?”
I think for a moment. “Nope, that sounds good.” Feeling brave, I ask, “Why did you call me Sugar ?” Zach tilts his head at my question, so I elaborate.
“Back there,” I motion to where we were admiring the art, “when you first spoke, you called me "Sugar." That’s a common Southern term, but you don’t sound Southern.”
“Indeed I am not. I like the cold too much to live below the Mason-Dixon line. I called you Sugar because you look sweet as candy.” He reaches out and twirls one of my long blond curls around his finger, gently sliding the hair through his grasp.
“Add on the fact that you’ve draped yourself in the color of raspberry ice-cream, which happens to be my favorite flavor.
.. Sugar seems like the perfect name for you. ”
The bartender sets down our drinks. Looking over, I see he’s given me a martini glass filled with a purplish-blue liquid and garnished with a stick of rock candy. A very unflattering snort escapes me. Of course this would be the drink he makes for me.
“See?” Zach says with a grin. “Sugar suits you.”
“Guess I can’t argue,” I say, lifting my glass towards Zach. “ Cheers. ”
Zach clinks his glass with mine, and we both take a sip, never breaking eye contact. The taste of my drink hits me unexpectedly. I was so focused on Zach that I forgot I was drinking something new. I can’t help the delighted “Mmmm!” sound that pops out of me before I can stop it.
I bring a hand up to cover my mouth, embarrassed. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting this drink to be so good.”
“Don’t you dare apologize, Sugar. I enjoyed that.”
I swear I’m going to be in a constant state of blushing all night. Everything he says makes me think of sex. His voice makes me think of sex. His big I-want-them-on-my-body hands make me think of sex.
“Can I have a taste?” Zach murmurs.
Crap. See? Everything he says makes me think of sex. I wonder if he can hear my swallow like they do in cartoons - the big audible gulp that often accompanies a finger pulling on a shirt collar to get more air.
From his expression, I think he knows just how much he’s affecting me. Well, two can play at that game. I channel my inner vixen, the one that Meghan promises I have, and smile sweetly.
“ Absolutely. ”
I pull the stick of rock candy out of the glass and tap it against the rim a few times before handing the drink to Zach.
There are still a few drops of the colored liquid sticking to the hard sugar, so - before they can drip onto my dress - I tip my head back, part my lips, and lower the rock candy into my mouth.
I close my lips around the wet rocks and slowly pull the stick back out.
I am DYING on the inside, mortified with my behavior, but also giving myself a mental pat on the back for pulling this off without accidently making myself gag.
Once the stick is free of my lips, I tip my head back down. Zach is staring at me, mouth slightly open, drink still held out exactly where it was when I passed it to him. I lick my lips, because - yum - rock candy.
I’m able to hold my composure for about three seconds before I lose myself to a fit of giggles.
This snaps Zach back to life, and his lips curl up in the most adorable smile. “I think I may have misspoken when I named you Sugar. Siren is more likely.”
Getting a hold of my giggles, I reply, “Well you won’t have to worry about drowning on my accord - I’m a terrible singer.”
Zach seems surprised at my answer. “You know your witches.”
“Oh, come now. We aren’t all bad ...” I tease, followed with a little wink.
Zach shakes his head, then lifts my drink to his mouth. I watch his lips as they press against the martini glass. He’s a big guy, so I’m not surprised that he takes a big taste. I’ve spent enough time around large men to know that they don’t daintily sip drinks like I do.
It’s a strong drink, but not overly sweet. I sense Zach’s approval before he speaks.
“I like it.” The words are simple, but his look is heated. He sets the drink down in front of me and then plucks the stick of rock candy out of my hand, placing it back in the glass.
I feel my shyness creeping back in around me. My moment of bravery was fun, but I’m so out of my element right now. I haven’t been on a date like this… ever. I’ve never been on a date with a guy like Zach before. Sure, my exes were good looking, but Zach is a whole different level of Man .
I don’t realize that I’m staring down at my lap until Zach places his big hand over my clasped ones.
“Izzy.”
My name on his lips pulls me to look up at him, and the way he’s looking at me says he knows how freaked out I just got.
I think he’s going to question me about it, but he asks me something else instead. “If you could be one animal for a day, what would it be?”
My tension evaporates at his ridiculous question. “What?!”
“Don’t overthink it, Sweets. What animal would you be? For one day. And it can’t be an extinct or made-up creature.”
I don’t hesitate. “A Peregrine Falcon.”
This brings a genuine smile out of Zach. “Why?”
“They are the world’s fastest bird. They can go 200 miles per hour when they’re in a dive. I can’t imagine being in control of that sort of speed. And they’re predators, while also being beautiful. A perfect combination.”
“I like your reasoning.”
“Thanks.” I preen a little under Zach’s compliment. “Your turn. What animal would you be for a day?”
“I’d go with the Siberian Tiger.”
“Because…” I prompt.
“They’re solitary beasts, and they have no natural predators.”
“Iiinteresting...” I drag the word out.
Zach reaches out and bops me on the nose. “Don’t go reading into these answers too much, pretty lady.”
“If you say so.” I grab my drink while I think. “What was your favorite toy when you were a kid?”
Zach smirks. “Do rollerblades count?”
“I don’t see why not.” I shrug.
“Then that’s my answer: rollerblades. Yours? ”
“Polly Pocket.”
Zach scrunches up his face. “Who’s Pocket ?”
Good lord, his confused face is adorable.
“Uh, Polly Pocket?” Now I sound like I’m asking it. “I take it you didn’t have a sister. Wait,” I hold up a hand. “Don’t answer that, no family. Polly Pocket is a tiny little… thing. With these miniature people. Sometimes animals. And it fits in your hand.”
“Yeah, sounds great...” Zach deadpans.
“I’m not explaining it right. It’s like a little plastic clam shell, or box, but it’s a room, or a scene, or something like that inside.”
Zach’s laughing at me now. “Clear as mud, Sugar.”