Page 33 of Whiskey Neat

“What’s your position here?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe.

I’ve seen that stance a million times. He’s making small talk, or about to, anyway.

“Inventory specialist. I’m not in charge of any of the building decisions.”

Jack nods, his eyes lingering on me. “A gay bar in Willow Bay, huh?”

“Yep. Wild, right?”

“It is. I grew up nearby. My mom loves to come here for antique shopping, so I’ve seen it change over the years, but I never thought something like this would show up.”

“I agree. I grew up here and attitudes towards queer people were not very open for a long time. I think the bar will do well with the college crowd.”

“Definitely, and hell, times have changed, right?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s cool because it’s hard to know if someone’s interested when you’re in a mixed bar.”

“Agreed.”

Jack smiles, shifting his weight. Ah, adorable. He’s working up the nerve to ask me out. “Maybe you’d be open to grabbing a drink or something sometime?”

Nailed it. Now that I’m really looking at him, he’s pretty good-looking in a rugged way. His hair is jet black, sticking out wildly from under his hard hat, and he’s definitely muscular. I think his eyes are brown, and as he scratches his beard, I see his appeal.

“Yeah, maybe. Kind of got a lot going on right now, but I’m always open to making new friends.”

“Okay, cool. I’ll check back.”

I hear the clomp of heavy shoes on the floor before I see the man, his booming voice nearly shaking the walls. “What is this?”

Indy. God, this man. His voice alone makes my insides tingle.

Jack puffs his chest out. “Who are you?”

Indy levels a devastatingly sexy glare at Jack. “I’m the fucking owner. You?”

Jack backs down fast after hearing that. “Foreman. Sorry, man. I was asking Salem a question, but he told me he wasn’t the right person to ask.”

Indy’s eyes shoot to me, then back to Jack. “What do you need to know?”

Jack tells Indy about the beam issue while I just stare at Indy’s ass. His jeans wrap around his ass cheeks like they were custom designed for his body, and my mouth practically waters when I remember what he looks like after he comes. Fuck.

His head turns sharply in my direction, and I realize I made a sound from the dirty memories replaying in my mind. I dart my eyes down to my notebook, pretending to be focused on anything but the delicious man.

“I’ll be out to look at it in a second,” Indy says, his tone making it real clear that Jack should leave. He does, and Indy turns his attention to me, shutting the door. His jaw is set and his expression borders on angry. “Could you do me a huge favor and not fuck any of the guys who work here right in front of me?”

I pull my head back and scoff. “I beg your pardon? I don’t see anyone fucking, least of all me.”

“I heard you guys arranging a date, okay? I don’t need my nose rubbed in it.”

“Whoa. I’m sorry, Indy, but you’re way out of line right now.”

He stomps toward me, stopping only because of the desk between us. “I’m out of line? You’re the one working on your social life at work.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re making a shit ton of assumptions, which is not a good look on you. Are you jealous?”

“No.” He scoffs. “Please.”

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