He headed back to the kitchen and I focused on my meal and talking with my friends until Belinda had to head out to relieve her sitter.
“You coming?” she asked.
“No, I think I’ll have another drink.”
“Sounds good. Just call an Uber or me if you need a ride home, ’kay?”
“I will, promise.”
We said our goodnights and Miranda dropped off another vodka soda before heading back down the bar to fill other orders.I sipped my drink and took in a breath to relax my shoulders. I probably needed to do a yoga class or something this weekend to get rid of this tension.
But for now, I was going to enjoy my dinner and grab a slice of Randy’s Death by Chocolate cake. It was sinfully delicious and exactly what I needed tonight.
Men were overrated. Cake was not.
***
“You need anything else?” Miranda asked an hour later as she cleared away the dessert plate I’d practically licked clean.
“Um, maybe just a club soda with lime.” I’d had two drinks and wasn’t in the mood for more, but plain water was too boring. And I wasn’t ready to leave.
“Coming right up. Let me just get this guy’s order first.” She moved a few steps down the bar. “Welcome. What would you like to drink and can I get you a menu?”
“A menu would be great, thanks,” a deep voice said. His tone made my spine tingle, like one of the guys on social media who was always growling and reading smutty book quotes.
I bit back a snort at how ridiculous that sounded in my head. Real men don’t make spines tingle by just saying thanks. Maybe I was just sitting weird and my butt fell asleep or something.
“Here you go,” Miranda said, putting my club soda in front of me. I caught her gaze as she did a slight head tilt toward the deep voice.
“Yeah, no,” I muttered.
“Hot,” she mouthed.
Not that I was interested in anyone right now, but Miranda had piqued my curiosity and I couldn’t help but glance over at him.Damn. She was not wrong. He was looking at the menu so I could only see his profile, but that was enough. Strong, squarejaw covered by a decent amount of dark brown scruff. Full lips, broad shoulders, eyelashes I could see from here, which was just unfair as fuck. Why did men always have great eyelashes? What a waste.
Then he pulled out a pair of glasses and put them on.
Fuuuuuck.
I was taking another sip of my drink, my eyes still cataloging that profile, when he turned and caught me full-on staring at him.
I sputtered and coughed.
Real smooth, Dani.
Not that I was trying to be smooth or anything. Nope.
His eyes widened. They were blue, like tropical ocean blue, all clear and warm.
Maybe I needed a vacation.
“Are you okay?” He rose from his seat two barstools down from mine.
I waved my hand and tried to cover another cough. “Yeah, I’m good. Totally fine. Wrong pipe.”
A small smile played at his lips. “Those pipes are the worst.” He had that nice-guy look going for him and a shallow dimple in one cheek.
He held my gaze like he was waiting for me to talk. “What?”
