Chapter 3
CHICKEN COCK
Dean glanced up at the sexy redhead who had just sat at his bar. Looked like she was all alone and not in a good mood either.
Since he was stuck working tonight being down staff, maybe he could get some eye candy out of it and try not to think about the fact that he should be home with Jonah and not having Carly putting his son to bed tonight.
“What can I get you?” he asked her after he nodded his head to Sheila, one of the two other bartenders working tonight. With any luck, he could sneak out in a few hours but the place was just jamming like always.
Nothing wrong with that from a business standpoint.
“A shot of something. I don’t care what.”
He lifted an eyebrow at her. “That kind of night, huh?” He reached behind the bar for a bottle and poured a shot, handing it over.
She lifted it to her lips, downed it, and then started to cough and gag until water ran out of her eyes. “What the hell was that?”
“Chicken Cock,” he said with a grin on his face.
She shoved the glass away, almost sending it over the edge of the bar. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
He pulled the bottle out from behind the bar and showed her Chicken Cock Cinnamon Whiskey. “You said you didn’t care. I saw the red hair, and cinnamon came to mind.”
“Jesus H Christ,” she said. “Can I get a glass of water? My throat is still burning.”
He was already filling the glass with ice before she asked. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Maybe a wine. White?” she said. “Do I have to be specific or will you give me one that will go down smoothly?”
“I’ve got you covered.”
He filled her a wineglass and set it down in front of her, looked around the bar and though it was early yet and only midweek, it was crazy busy because he had a special mixer tonight and wanted three bartenders on.
The restaurant in the back was packed, but the front where people mingled, would fade away by ten, most having to get up for work the next day. He’d like to get his ass out of here by nine.
Shit, when had he become such a dud?
When he became a dad.
And he wouldn’t trade it for a thing.
She picked up the wineglass, put the rim to her lips and sipped.
Nice full lips that had a hint of gloss to them that maybe was remaining from earlier as if she’d been eating and left, or kissed someone.
Either way, it wasn’t off completely and his eyes were waging a war between them and her cleavage.
“This is much better. And greatly appreciated.”
“I haven’t seen you here before,” he said. “First time?”
“Yeah. I was on my way home and saw the sign and just pulled over.”
He eyed her again and asked, “You look like you’re dressed up for a date, but you’re sitting here all alone.”
He was trying to get a feel for if she was some kind of fancy escort. That shit didn’t go on in his place.
“A blind date gone horribly wrong,” she said. “Can I get some food here too? I actually didn’t even eat dinner. I had three bites and excused myself to go to the bathroom and never returned.”
He laughed. He’d never had a woman do that to him before and always found it hilarious when it happened to someone else. How bad could it be for someone to sneak out like that?
“It must have been horrible then.” He grabbed a menu and put it in front of her. “I can take your order here once you’re ready.”
The waitress came over with an order so he took it and pulled drafts and mixed drinks. He returned to the foxy redhead and asked, “Ready to order?”
“Yeah. I’ll take the nachos.”
“Nice and messy,” he said. “I can appreciate a girl who can throw back a Chicken Cock and chase it with ground beef and jalapenos.”
Her face blushed adorably, almost matching the color of her hair. Long, shiny, and wavy on the ends. She didn’t have a lot of makeup on, but she looked pretty sexy. The dress more than sealed the deal for him. Obviously did for some other men too, as he noticed she was being watched.
“I’m in the mood for something greasy and spicy and I have to do it where no one knows me.”
“Why’s that?” he asked, finding that statement curious for someone as thin as her. “Are you a model and can’t be seen eating?”
“Aren’t you just a sweet thing,” she said. “I know you’re joking about the model part. I’m a food researcher. Or food scientist to many.”
He had a good idea of what that meant. He was a smart dude with a background in science even though none of his employees had any clue. Hell, they didn’t even know he owned the place; they just thought he was a manager, and he preferred to keep it that way.
“So you modify food? Feed it to animals for reactions? What?”
She smiled, her eyes almost flirting with him.
“Nothing quite like that. I work right out of Albany for a private company that has a lot of big name clients. We test food and packaging for them and send the results. I modify recipes in an attempt to make things healthier. We also figure out nutritional information to put on packaging. Lots of things and it’s probably boring to you. ”
“Not really. We serve food here, and people are always asking questions like that.”
“Some people want to know. Others know eating out means there are a lot of calories and not always a lot of nutrients. Like those nachos I ordered.”
“There’s protein with the beef, a veggie with the peppers, and dairy with the cheese. We use all natural ingredients here.”
“Then I stand corrected.”
She smiled bright, her quick wit and responses entertaining him and taking his mind off being here.
He got called over for another order and left her to take care of it. When he turned around there was a regular next to her, flirting, and he could see the annoyance on her face a mile away.
“Steve, I don’t think she’s interested in an unemployed driver.”
“Ah, Dean, you just blew my cover. I was going to introduce myself as a business owner.”
“Uber doesn’t count,” he said. “And if you’re looking to earn some fares, you better not be taking them tonight since that’s your third beer.”
“I’m off tonight,” Steve said, picking up his beer and moving away.
“Thanks,” she said.
“You’re welcome. I figured anyone who had to sneak out on one blind date wasn’t in the mood to be hit on somewhere else.”
“You’re a hundred percent correct,” she said.
A few hours later, she was still sitting at his bar having moved on to seltzer after her wine. If she was waiting to see if she was sober enough to drive home, he could have assured her she was.
“No work tomorrow?” he asked, as the bar thinned out. Might as well chat her up since he found her more interesting than most who sat at his bar and flirted with him. Not that she was flirting. At least from what he could tell.
He could have snuck out an hour ago and been home and relieved Carly, but something was keeping him here. And since Carly only had to walk through the garage to get home and was probably watching TV, she wouldn’t care.
He paid her well enough not to.
“I’ve got to work,” she said. “I wish I didn’t, but I’m trying to figure out what to say to my friend who set me up. We work together. By staying here I can ignore her texts asking me how it’s going and she’ll think I’m still out. Technically, I am.”
So she didn’t want to be dishonest to someone. Interesting. “Must not be that good of a friend to set you up with someone you had to ditch that early into the date. Mind if I ask what he did?”
“I’m not sure where to start,” she said.
“I heard all about his childhood. Then he moved on to how great his life was. He bragged or talked up everything in his life. At one point, after he’d said how wonderful his life was for the fourth time, I was going to ask if his therapist told him he had to say it to himself a certain number of times a day to actually believe it. ”
His lips lifted in a smirk. “Sounds like a dick.”
“And speaking of that. He kept mentioning how the ladies commented on his size,” she said, holding her fingers up and making little quote signs.
“Did you ask him if the comments were about how big or small he was?”
“I wish I’d thought to. At that point I just wanted out of there.”
“So you left to use the bathroom?” he asked.
“Not yet. It wasn’t until he told me he’d stopped at the drugstore before he got to the restaurant. I thought for sure he was going to mention getting a box of condoms. That might have been better than telling me he’d grabbed a few little blue pills.”
He shook his head. “I bet the ladies commented on his limp dick, which he couldn’t very well say to you.”
“I’m willing to bet it. Anyway, he didn’t seem to even notice I wasn’t all that into him. He’s probably still sitting at the table waiting for me. I wonder if he thinks I ate something rotten.” She rolled her eyes. “Sorry, that was uncalled for. Must be the wine.”
“The wine you drank three hours ago,” he said.
“What?” She pulled her phone out and looked. “I didn’t realize how late it was. What do I owe you? You haven’t given me a tab yet.”
He moved to the computer and printed it out, then handed it over. She reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet, then credit card, and passed it to him. He returned it with a pen. “Molly Clarke,” he said, “it was nice to spend the night chatting with you.”
She scribbled her name and pushed the receipt over, then slipped her card into her purse. “You too. And your name?”
“Dean Easton. And maybe I’ll see you around here again.”
“Maybe you will,” she said, smiling back, then got up and walked out of his bar, her body all smooth and flowy, his eyes going to her ass and admiring it as much as he did her chest.
The minute she was out the door, he turned to Sheila, his night manager. “I’m out of here.”
“I knew it,” Sheila said.
“Knew what?”
“That you only stuck around for the redhead. Been a while since you’ve done that.”
He snorted. “I don’t even want to think about that. I’ve got other things to spend my time and energy on.”
“Go relieve Carly,” Sheila said. “And give that little man a kiss for me when you check in on him before you climb into bed.”
“Will do.”
Sad that is what his night consisted of.
Though most times he didn’t think it was sad at all. Even thinking of the single life he’d once had where he would have asked the sexy Molly back to his place.
Nope, not again.