Page 14 of Halloween Hottie
He shrugs. “It’s been a long time since I didanythingfor fun. I work at the bar, and I go to bed. It doesn’t sound like much, but when you own a business, there’s always something that needs doing. Something breaks and needs to be repaired, or you have a little extra cash laying around, so you invest it back into the bar by redoing the bathrooms, floors, pool tables, something. I talk and hang out with a lot of the people who come into the bar, so while I’m working, it doesn’t really feel like work. It’s more like hanging out with a buddy.” He shrugs. “What do you do?”
I laugh. “I’m not the girl to talk to about fun. My idea of a good night is good food, an awesome book, and a warm blanket.”
“My wife was a reader, too. What kind of books do you like to read?”
“Umm,” I mumble as I think. “I like a lot of different stuff. Anything with that romance element. I like dystopian-type reads where the world is ending, and the main character is trying to survive and fighting against whatever force is out there. I like good old-fashioned murder mysteries. I really like books about zombies. My heart gets to hammering away in my chest, and I’ll get goosebumps and it feels like I’m really there, like a zombie is about to round the corner and snatch me up.” I laugh. “Really, anything that can pull me in and hold me captive until that last page.”
He laughs and nods. “What about movies. Are you a film buff?”
I shrug. “Not really. I mean, I watch TV, but I don’t ever go to a theater. I’m patient, so I just wait until I can watch it in the comfort of my own home.”
“What’s your favorite show right now?”
“There are so many. How can I pick just one?”
“If someone said, you have to pick one show to watch for the rest of your life, what would it be?”
I think over the shows I’ve been watching lately and try to narrow them down. I loveThe Vampire Diaries, but Elina and her whininess gets annoying. I don’t think I could deal with that for the rest of my life. I watchFriendsreruns a lot—I can quote the entire series so that might get boring after a whole lifetime of it.
“Oh, I know!” I finally say, playfully slapping his arm. “Peaky Blinders. It’s sooo good. Have you seen it?”
He shakes his head.
“It has excitement, danger, romance, drama. And everyone in it has that sexy accent. I swear, I could listen to Tommy talk to me all day and never get tired of it.”
“I guess I’ll have to check it out.”
I nod. “Oh, you have to now. It’s mandatory for our friendship.”
He laughs. “Okay, I promise I’ll watch it.”
“Give it a few episodes. It takes a minute to get into. But once you do, you’re invested. You hear a gunshot, and you pray it’s not one of your favorite characters. I have cried long and hard because of that show.”
Jake laughs and takes a drink of his beer.
“What have you been watching?” I ask.
“I don’t watch a lot of TV. Usually, I just put something on for background noise while I’m working or cooking or whatever. It’s usually YouTube. I like standup comedy. All the greats—Robin Williams, Eddie Murphy, Chris Farley, and Adam Sandler.”
“I’ve seen a few of them. I’ll have to watch some more though.”
He laughs. “You’ll enjoy it.”
I take a drink of my beer and notice when his eyes flash to the doorway. It looks like the dance floor has expanded out into the hallway.
I look back at him, and Jake smiles. “Want to dance?”
I nod.
He stands up and takes my hand in his, pulling me out of the room and into the big entryway. The lights are turned off and multicolored lights have been hung from the big chandelier in the center of the room. It’s dark, and colors are dancing around the room like we’re in a nightclub. He pulls me into the center and his hands move to my hips.
I step into his chest and wrap my arms around his neck, while my hips begin to move on their own to the beat of the music. His blue eyes are hooded as they look down between us. He wets his lips and cocks his jaw. “You’re a good dancer,” he says.
“So are you,” I reply, already feeling a little breathless. I spin around and press my back to his chest while my hips wiggle from side to side. I feel him harden against me—but he doesn’t shy away. His hand on my hips squeezes and he whispers low in my ear. “Sorry about that,” he says quietly, his hot breath blowing against my neck.
I spin back around and press my chest to his. “Sorry about what?” I ask, feeling his length pressing against my leg.
Jake lets out a nervous laugh but keeps dancing. “You’re the first girl I’ve been pressed against in a while.”
