“Uh huh.” Garrett saunters closer, still looking at me with a careful gaze.
“Rustic,” I add, nervous. “This whole dive bar thing is very in right now. I read about it in the New York Times.”
“That’s what I’m going for.” Garrett cracks a smile. “I glaze the floors with a special mix of beer and sweat, just for that authentic edge.”
I laugh. See? This isn’t hard. Simple, breezy banter.
Just ignore the fact that that gray T-shirt hugs every muscle of his torso, bringing out the blue in his eyes; the stubble on his square jaw…
“What can I get you?” Garrett asks.
You.
“White wine?” I suggest, wondering what’s safe to order in a place like this. “Chardonnay, or a pinot grigio, if you have it.”
“Sure thing.” Garrett nods, turning to the liquor lined up behind him.
I take a breath, relaxing a little more. “So, is it always this quiet?” I ask. “I remember it being busier than this when I came before. I used to sneak in, underage,” I add, remembering summers with the other bored teenage summer kids. “It was the only place to meet boys.”
“That’s summer,” Garrett replies, turning back to me. “Things don’t pick up until June.”
He places a shot glass on the bar in front of me and pours a measure of bourbon.
“But I ordered…” I stop, my protest dying on my lips. What the hell. I take the glass and knock back the shot, setting it down on the bar with a clatter.
Garrett’s lips quirk at the edges. “A party girl, hmm. Who would have guessed?”
I blush. “I’m not, I’m just…celebrating, I guess.”
The end of my relationship with Alex doesn’t feel much like a victory right now, but it’s better than looking at it as a loss.
Garrett looks curious. “Oh yeah?”
I know he’s not interested in my life, not really, but I don’t have anyone else to talk to, so I tell him, “I broke things off, with my fiancé.”
Garrett startles, panic flashing in his blue eyes. “This isn’t because of what happened...” He fumbles his words, looking like he wants the ground to swallow him up. “Because, I was just teasing…”
What?
My mind races. It takes me a split second to realize what he’s talking about. The porch, that morning. When we almost—well, I don’t know what almost happened, save me melting into a breathless pool of desire, but it had nothing to do with this.“No!” I yelp. “No way.” I shake my head fervently. “God, no.”
Garrett exhales in a whoosh. “Oh, OK. Good.”
I pause, watching the discomfort in his expression. He really thought I would go and break off an engagement, just because he whispered a few seductive words in my ear? “Full of yourself, much?” I ask, feeling a surprising bubble of amusement.
“What?” Garrett blinks.
“You must have girls throwing themselves at your feet left and right,” I continue with a grin. “Shoving their boyfriends off a cliff the moment you come around.”
Garrett laughs, relaxing. “Hazard of the job, darlin’” he drawls with a wink. “I can’t be held responsible.”
“I’ll make a note of that,” I say, wry. “Just give me warning if they come storming through, out for blood.”
Garrett pours me another drink and leans against the bar. “They know the rules. Three strikes and I’m out.”
“What?” I splutter, coughing out my drink in disbelief. Garrett hands me a napkin, looking amused. “I’m going to need more than that,” I tell him, shaking my head in amazement. I’ve never heard a guy talk like this. At least, not to my face.
But Garrett seems unconcerned. “I never spend more than three nights with the same girl,” he explains casually, wiping down the bar. “That way, they don’t get ideas in their head.”
“About…?” I prompt him, laughing.
“Relationships. Commitment.” He shrugs, his muscles rippling under his shirt. “It’s never going to happen, so this way, I’m not leading them on.”
“Real decent of you.” I shake my head. I don’t know if this new rule makes him more or less of an operator than I first thought.
“Hey, I’m not lying to anyone,” Garrett argues, and for a moment, I wonder if I detect a melancholy look in his blue eyes. “I make it clear from the start that’s the deal. They have a problem, they’re free to move along to the next guy.”
I pause. It does make a weird kind of sense, if you think about it.
“And these girls, they’re fine with that?” I frown, trying to get my head around it.
“I don’t get any complaints.” Garrett winks again, and I have to laugh at his confidence.
“Whatever works for you,” I say finally, draining the glass. Hell, he seems more functional than me right now, with my third failed engagement under my belt.
Three.
I let out a groan, sliding lower on the stool. “I’m going to die alone.”
Garrett laughs, his face warming with amusement. “That’s the bourbon talking. You’ll be fine.”
“Liar,” I mutter. “You just don’t want me drunk and weeping all over your bar.” A lock of hair falls into my eyes, and I push it behind my ear without thinking.