Page 2 of Surrendered to the Mountain Man

“I’m sorry about your town,” the woman said. “I assume you live here?”

“All my life,” I said.

“It’s a beautiful place,” she said. “We were helping out in that neighborhood over by the courthouse earlier today. There was a missing cat. This guy found it while we were there.”

“So that’s why you need a drink,” I commented. Suddenly, I felt very bartender-like. “My buddy’s nephew is the regular bartender here, and he lives over in that neighborhood. He lost everything. Sounds like maybe I need a drink too.” I glanced down at the instructions, finished off the drink, and set it in front of her. “Does that look right?”

She shrugged. “Can’t tell. It just sounded like the appropriate drink, considering the day I had. Do you have a straw?”

Oh, yeah. Bar patrons usually liked those. I hunted around a bit, found them, handed her one, and scanned the restaurant. The entire place was still empty. I hoped it stayed that way.

“Are you ordering dinner too?” I asked.

Her eyes widened as she slid the straw into the drink. “Is the kitchen open?”

“Yep. It’s a smaller staff than usual, but as you can see, I think they can handle an order or two.”

“Then make it two,” she said. “I don’t like to eat alone.”

She took a generous sip of her Hurricane and immediately made a face. Oh crap, I’d messed it up. My first chance to impress this woman, and I blew it.

“I work construction,” I said. “I’ve never even tasted a Hurricane, and I definitely don’t know how to make one.”

“No, it’s fine,” she said. “I’m not really used to drinking. I get those hard lemonades in different flavors. That’s pretty much been my signature drink since college.”

I turned, grabbed a menu, and handed it to her. Then I thought for a second and grabbed one for myself. I had no idea how to use the computer, so my job was to gather the orders, make the drinks, and have someone in the kitchen ring it all in.

“I’ll take the shrimp tacos,” she said, slapping the menu shut. “But only if you’ll eat with me. And drink.”

I lifted my gaze from the menu. “Am I allowed to drink on the job?” I asked.

She’d taken another long sip from her drink, and I couldn’t help but notice the glass was less than half full. Yes, the ice took up a good bit of space, but that was still a hell of a lot of alcohol.

“Are you being paid for this?” she asked.

“Nope.”

“Then yes, you can drink. I give you permission.”

I laughed. “Seems like you want to get me drunk to take advantage of me.”

It was a risky comment. My goal was to sound flirtatious. But if she said that was exactly what she planned to do, I wouldn’t argue. In fact, give me the strongest liquor we had.

“Would that be a bad thing?” she asked.

Those words sprung my cock to life. In this case, she wouldn’t be taking advantage at all. In fact, I’d strip off my clothes, put my hands behind my back, and let her do whatever she wanted. But the thing that would suck about that was I wouldn’t get to show her what I could do for her first.

A slow smile broke out over my face, and I took several backward steps toward the back bar, where the liquor was kept. I reached back and snatched up the first bottle my fingers touched—vodka. That would do.

I poured some into a glass, noting how much I’d taken for later so I could pay for it, and downed it in one go, never taking my eyes off her. When her face lit up, I did it again. I’d switch to beer for dinner, but this would do the job of convincing her to take advantage of me. And that was what I was all about tonight.

2

TORI

Holy shit. This guy was drinking vodka straight.

I had friends in college who did that. They were low on funds, so they’d buy alcohol and drink it with no mixer, calling it pre-gaming, to get drunk on the cheap before going out.

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