Page 8 of Challenged by the Single Dad

Wyatt was already out of his seat. “Of course I do.”

Chloe ignored Dom and went to work on the complex drink. She got out the limes, the tomato juice, the celery salt, the Worcestershire sauce, the tabasco, the vodka, and the lime juice. Wyatt came back through the kitchen door and plunked a mason jar on the counter for her.

“Thanks. But can I trouble you for some horseradish too, please?”

“You got it.” Then he disappeared again.

She mixed everything in the shaker with ice, then she did celery salt around the rim before scooping ice into the glass as well. Wyatt returned with a jar of horseradish. “Anything else?”

Nibbling on her lips, Chloe took a quick inventory of the garnishes, didn’t see what she wanted and nodded. “Either pickled beans or pickled asparagus?”

He was all grins. “I’ll see what I can find.”

Jagger chuckled. “Don’t hold back on the spice for me. I like it hot.”

Smiling, she tipped her gaze to his. “Noted.”

Just as she was putting the lid on the shaker Wyatt returned and plopped a jar of pickled beans on the counter. “They’re on the spicier side.”

“Not a problem.” She shook the shaker well, then strained the cocktail out over the ice in the glass, careful not to muck up the perfectly salted rim. The final touch was a wedge of lime on the side—after she washed her hands again—and four pickled beans shoved down into the drink. She offered it up to Dom first.

He lifted one brow, his blue-hazel gaze—the same shade as Wyatt’s—leveled on her, not the drink. “So you’re one ofthosepeople then?”

“Someone who likes the Canadian Caesar more than a Bloody Mary? Yes. Yes, I am.”

He made a noise in his throat. “I mean, one of those people who needs to fix something that’s not broken. Celery as a garnish is perfectly fine.”

“I like beans or asparagus. Celery, if it’s old, is bitter. If you serve something that is pickled, it’s preserved and will taste great no matter what.”

“Clam juice?”

“Canadians use Clamato juice—tomato and clam juice—in their Caesars, as opposed to straight up tomato juice. It’s better. Plain and simple.”

“You have an answer for everything, hmm?”

“You have a lot of questions for someone who hasn’t even tried it yet.”

They were in a staring contest now. She could just barely see the amusement on Wyatt and Jagger’s face in her peripheral vision. But Dom’s growing irritation with her was plain as the nose on his very handsome face.

Slowly, he lifted the drink to his mouth and took a sip.

He didn’t have to say a word for her to know he liked it. The way his pupils dilated and his eyes widened, was enough of a tell.

“Well, don’t hog it all,” Jagger said, grabbing it from Dom’s hand and taking a sip. “Damn, that’s good.” He took another sip. “Itisway better than a Bloody Mary. And that’s from clam juice?”

“You can get Clamato here in the states,” Wyatt added.

Chloe nodded. “Yes. The micheladas—or cheladas—are Clamato, hot sauce, lime, and beer. You can get them here and in Mexico. Though, I personally prefer Caesars. However, since you also run a brewery, picking a good beer to make the cheladas with might be a fun idea. You could even run a poll with customers.”

Wyatt reached across Dom for the Caesar from Jagger and took a sip. “Mmm. We definitely need to switch up and start serving these instead of Bloody Mary’s.”

Dom’s nostrils flared. “I asked for a Bloody Mary. That’s not what this is.”

Wyatt and Jagger exchanged looks, then Wyatt smiled at her after taking another sip. “Ignore this grumpy fuck. Jagger’s going to call your references, but as far as we’re concerned, you’re hired. Just need to verify a few things.”

Dom looked about ready to explode. The men on either side of him almost seemed to be enjoying his growing ire.

“I … I don’t want to create problems. Your … your coworker here, doesn’t seem as eager to employ me as you do.”

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