I glance up from the glass in my hand, my heart skipping a beat. And sure enough, my eyes lock onto a man I definitely would have remembered if he were a regular.
Tall, broad-shouldered, with a dark, gruff along his jawline and a smirk that says he knows exactly the kind of trouble he’s stirring up. His burgundy flannel clings to thick, muscled arms, the sleeves stretched tight across his biceps, and those dark-wash jeans? Not doing him any disservice either.
“Well, well,” he drawls, voice smooth like Tennessee whiskey. “I think I just found my new favorite bar. I’m Jake, Jake Steele.”
I don’t care who the fuck you are, Jake from state farm.
I raise a brow, fighting back a laugh at how fucking cringe this is. God, if Carter were here, I’d have so much fun pissing him off with this. I sigh inwardly and put on my best unimpressed face.
“Is that right?” I say coolly, setting the rum and Coke down. “And why’s that?”
His lips curve into a cocky smile as he gives me a slow once-over like he’s deciding whether he wants to worship me or ruin me.
Yuck.
“I didn’t know an angel was working here.”
I stifle a laugh, shaking my head. Poor bastard. He has no idea what he just stepped into.
“I’m actually Satan reincarnated,” I say sweetly. “Now, are you going to tell me what the fuck you want to drink, or are you just here to waste my time?”
His laugh is a little strained now, the confidence slipping. “Old-fashioned, please.”
I turn without another word, grabbing the bourbon and pouring it over ice, adding a splash of bitters and a hint of honey, stirring it slowly. I slide the glass across the bar to him, leaning forward just enough to meet his gaze dead-on.
“Here’s your old-fashioned,” I purr, voice dripping with false sweetness. “As old as your fucking pick-up lines.”
His face flushes deep red. Without saying another word, he throws a crumpled twenty on the bar and slinks off into the crowd.
Good. Serves him right, that line was absolutely atrocious.
Buzz.Buzz.Buzz.
I wipe my hands on a bar towel, pulling my phone from the back pocket of my jeans, the bright screen blinding me as I check the notifications lighting up.
Carter
Who the fuck was that?
He’s fucking bluffing. I glance around the bar, scanning the crowd for the familiar sight of Carter’s broad frame, but come up empty. Liar.
I chuckle under my breath and start typing, fully intending to piss him off.
Catalina
That was Jake, he’s new in town. He said I was an angel and asked me out.
I barely have time to set my phone down before it buzzes again.
Carter
Catalina..
Carter
I wanted to rip his fucking eyeballs out of his skull for even looking at you.
A sharp, breathless laugh escapes me.
