I felt heat creep into my cheeks. Was I blushing?
Nah, it was the tea. Gotta be the tea.
"Way to change the subject, handsome." A warm flutter appeared in my belly. Damn, I was flirting.
Jude doesn't want you. No harm, no foul.
My stomach knotted and I looked at my empty glass, fretting whether I should lie my ass off and brush over my situation, or just be honest with him. Dylan mimicked me and took a swig of his beer, then stole the choice out of my hands.
“The guy at the shop? He an ex or something?” he asked, picking at the label of his beer absentmindedly.
“Oh, no. that big brute was my brother, Trip. He’s not so keen on my seeing people, the protective brother thing. I’m really sorry he tried to intimidate you,” I apologized, leaning over and placing my hand on his arm.
Dylan smiled and pressed for more information. “The other one who was looking at you like you were his. He wasn’t your brother.”
“Umm, well. No. I… it’s hard to explain.” I stumbled over my words unsure how to tell him about Jude.
“I got time, sugar. I’m not in a hurry to be going anywhere. “Dylan looked over my shoulder and brought his head closer to my ear. As he spoke quietly, his hot breath brushed over my neck and sent a pleasant warmth though me. “There’s a table over there. Care to sit?”
We made our way to the vacant seat, and without a thought, Dylan pulled my chair out, waited until I was sitting, and pushed it in. A sweet gesture I’d never encountered before. The boys I knew were rough and possessive, hot and heavy. Dylan was sweet, thoughtful and quite gentlemanly. I had to admit, it was different, and not in a bad way.
He signaled the waitress for another round. "Are you hungry?" He winked, insinuating it could've been more than just food on his mind.
"Actually, yes. They have some great small plates here. And their burgers aren't half bad either."
Damn, he’d distracted me again.
I didn't know if I should be put off by the fact that we'd been sitting together just bullshitting for almost twenty minutes, and he had yet to even tell me the name of the town he was from.
Pushing my insecurities that all men were scum aside, I tried a different approach. "Okay, let's play a game." I held up my hand this time, letting the bartender know I wanted a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses.
"For every question asked, you have to answer truthfully. No matter how simple or complex. If you don't answer, you take a shot." I flashed him my sweetest smile and sat back in my chair.
A shadowed look passed over Dylan's features before his eyes crinkled and his lips widened into a devilish grin. "All right, honey, game on. But know this, I can hold my liquor and I have nothing to hide."
My expression matched his.
"You have no idea what you just signed on for, cowboy."
The waitress set everything on the table, pausing to check out the sexy man sitting across from me.
"Hey, can we get two cheeseburgers, medium rare with fries?" I interrupted her stare-fest and shot a wink back at Dylan. "Hope you're not a vegetarian."
The laughter that burst from his chest was deep. Like a warm blanket wrapped around me in the dead of winter, I leaned into the sound.
"Oh, darlin', you don't live in Texas and survive without eating meat." His voice full of humor, his eyes danced with amusement at my half-assed attempt to keep the attention off him from Miss Doe-Eyes.
He may be a rebound, but I still didn't share.
Dylan poured two shots after the waitress disappeared and pushed one closer to me. "Ladies first."
I looked into his hazel eyes, my mind turning over what to ask first. Simple. Start small. He may not have anything to hide, but I did. "Okay, how old are you?"
"29. That was too easy. Maybe I should be worried." He still hadn't lost that gleam in his eyes. It made me… I paused on the thought. I had no idea what it made me.
"How old are you?" he mimicked, teasingly.
"Old enough" I smirked at him. “Didn’t your mamma ever tell you it’s rude to ask a woman’s age?” I smiled and leaned forward a little, giving him a teasing view of my cleavage. Shit. That Long Island Iced Tea was a little stronger than I thought. Too much, Haven, too fucking much.
I grabbed my shot and threw it back. I hoped it would get the point across that I wasn't planning to elaborate.
"Next question. What do you do?" I poured more tequila into my glass, filling it to the brim.
"Well, I’m in construction. I build fences, pools and patios. It's nothing crazy but it's honest work and the pay is good." He almost seemed bashful when he told me about his job, his hair sticking up where he had just ran his fingers through it.
Was he nervous?
"I guess I need to think of something better to ask you. I already know where you work." His smile was back, like he had just thought of the million-dollar question. My eyes scanned his features. My mind raced as I skittered through possible answers I was willing to give.
Damn. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.
"Do you have any other siblings? I mean, I met the one guy. Trip? Any others?"
My hand rested around the base of the shot glass, prepared to shoot the liquor swirling around inside.
Easy one, yes.
I leaned back and looked at his curious expression.
"I have two big brothers, Trip, whom you've met, and Mace. His wife, Scarlett, owns the tattoo parlor you were in today. I also have an older sister Milla. She moved away a little while ago.” I thought about elaborating a little more. Family was a safe subject… mostly. "Mace is the oldest, then Trip, then Milla, and I’m the youngest. It's difficult for them to let go when it comes to me." I grinned. "I think they forget I'm not seven anymore."