Page 13 of Sweet Pea

“Whiskey. Bourbon please. The older the better.”

I let out a surprised chuckle. “Unexpected.”

“What were you expecting?”

“Not sure, really. I guess vodka and passionfruit or something like that.”

Callie raised an eyebrow. “Some sort of fruity ‘chick’ drink?”

“Well, yeah. I guess.”

“Interesting.”

“What’s that?”

“You seemed like such a gentleman earlier, I hadn’t pegged you as a sexist.”

“I’m not sexist. It’s just that most women I meet these days drink shit that looks like it belongs in a hummingbird feeder.”

“Fair enough,” Callie said with a smirk.

She’d just walked in and already she was busting my balls. Goddamn, she was hot.

I cleared my throat. “So, bourbon it is. Ice?”

“Neat please. Something old,” she repeated.

“And by old, you mean expensive.”

“Hey, you asked me to meet you here, remember?” Callie asked.

“After you asked me to coffee.” I corrected.

“Which would have been much cheaper for you. You’ve now learned the first lesson about negotiating with me.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Always accept my first offer. It’s the best one you’re gonna get.” Callie flashed another sly grin and my dick responded. Aggressively. This woman was going to be a fucking problem.

“Be right back,” I said and headed for the bar. As much as I wanted to find out what the fuck Callie Ames wanted with me, I needed to step away and get my bearings. I was off balance and that was not normal for me. Not on my bike, not in a fight, and not with women. Ever. I had to get my shit together, pronto.

“What’s with the look? Your date stand you up?” Sally Anne asked as she wiped down the bar.

“What? No, she just got here. She’s back at the table.”

Sally Anne craned her neck in order to get a look at Callie.

“She’s a pretty one,” Sally Anne said. “Ya know, you could’ve called me over to your table to order. I wouldn’t really have tried to scare her away.”

“It’s okay. To be honest with you, I’m not even sure what I’m doing here.”

“In my experience, when one bellies up to the bar, it’s usually to order a drink,” Sally Anne teased.

“No, I mean why the fuck I’m here at all.”

“Sorry, hun. I’m no good in the existential crisis department, but I can pour while you ponder.”

“Uh, yeah. Bourbon. Something old.”

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