Page 15 of First Comes Marriage

Don’t look at her chest.

He ground his back teeth together.

She poked him in the arm, her whole body swaying with the movement. “Have a drink with me.”

“No.”

“You’re no fun. But my friend here—” She pointed at the bartender. “He’s fun. What was your name? Billy? Willy?”

The bartender chuckled and held out a hand to Baz. “Philip. What can I get you?”

“Mr. Grumpy Pants isn’t drinking.” She batted the bartender’s hand away before Baz could shake it. “Told you he hates me.”

Baz scraped his hand over his face and fought for patience. The last thing he wanted to do was have a drink with Sabrina but he couldn’t very well leave her like this. Aunt Lucy and the Granny Squad would string him up by his balls if anything happened to her while they were away.

“Scotch, neat. And keep ‘em coming.”

Sabrina leveled the bartender with a serious look. “He’sgot catching up to do.” She drained the last of her margarita and slid the empty glass across the bar towards the bartender. “Keep ‘em coming for me too.”

“How many have you had?” Baz asked her as Philip rimmed a fresh glass with salt.

Sabrina shrugged and plucked a pretzel stick from the bowl on the table. “More than one, less than five.” She shot him a mischievous grin as she slipped the pretzel between her lips, sucking on the end of it like it was a lollipop.

Baz forced his eyes away from her to accept his drink from the bartender. “Do you usually get drunk in the middle of the afternoon?”

“Pssh, it’s practically dinner time, which means it’s practically nighttime.”

“You’re chugging tequila like a college freshman on spring break.” He slid her glass away from her.

“You don’t know what I was like as a college freshman,” she scoffed. “You didn’t meet me until I was asenior, Grumpy Pants McGee.” He arched an eyebrow at her and she waved her hand in the general direction of his lower half. “Those are grumpy pants.”

“They’re regular pants.”

“Nope. They are the grumpiest pants that ever grumped.” She sighed heavily, the force of it pushing out her lower lip into a pout that would have been adorable on someone he didn’t thoroughly despise. “You used to befun.Remember fun? Like when we used to dance to Wham! in the back room of the food pantry?”

He fought back a smile at the memory. “I didn’t dance.”

“You did. You absolutely did. Moved your hips and everything.” She’d pulled her drink back towards herself and took another sip. “Remember that time you tried to dip the mop and you knocked over the bucket?” She snorted with laughter.

“At least I didn’t knock over a whole shelf of pasta.”

She gasped. “Because there was a spider!”

“I remember.”

He scraped his hand over his jaw, tamping down the urge to laugh with her. He had no interest in taking a walk down memory lane. “What are you even doing here?”

“Same thing as you, Mr. Grumpasaurus Rex.” She threw her arms out to indicate their surroundings, wobbling precariously again. He gripped the bottom of the stool to steady her.

“Nothere.In Aster Bay. Why the hell did you come back?”

She bit off the end of the pretzel and chewed it thoughtfully, the corners of her lips turning down as her eyes grew misty.

“Sabrina.”

She waved him away with what was left of the pretzel. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” She took an overlarge sip of her margarita.

“Did something happen?”

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