Page 10 of Spring Surprise
“Oh, you’d be surprised.”
“I wanna do shots!” Jorie states. Ezra shakes his head, but Aaron grins mischievously and eggs her on.
“Are you in need of some Buttery Nipples?” he teases.
“That is so not fair. There should be something us girls can order that’s equally as lewd as Buttery Nipples.” She rolls her eyes and then looks at me, expecting backup.
Now, I’m not one to back down from a challenge. Being part owner of a bar and strip club, I’ve done my time behind the bar, and yes, we hold ladies’ night once a month. I shrug and give her what she’s asking for. “Let’s order Cum Shots.”
Except when I say it, Tobias is in the middle of taking a swig, and he chokes on his drink. Beer shoots out his nose. Aaron and Jorie begin braying like jackasses, and Manny chuckles. Even the stoic Ezra cracks a smile.
“No way, I’m not ordering or drinking anything with a name like that,” Aaron protests, and the other guys agree. Jorie and I dissolve into giggles.
“No worries.” I wave a hand in the air at the waitress heading our way. It only takes a few seconds for her to sidle up to our table. “We’d like two Cum Shots, please.”
Jorie erupts into another gale of laughter.
“Uh… I’m not sure our bartender will know what that is.” The waitress hesitates.
I nod. “Some places call it a Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Tell him it’s half a shot of Fireball and half a shot of RumChata poured together, and don’t rim the glass with cinnamon and sugar. Easy peasy. Bachelorette parties love them.”
“How do you know that?” Toby looks intrigued.
“Oh, you know…” I wave the question away. I’m not embarrassed of my jobs or business interests; what I do is important. I’m private when it comes to my club and our mission. The less people know, the more effective we can be. It’s not something I want to discuss in public, but I’m going to have to talk to Toby about what I do soon. Luckily, Jorie rescues me without even realizing it.
“Come to the bathroom with me, Neely.” Once again, she grabs my hand and tows me through the crowd. When we return to the table, the conversation has changed to the camera crew and what they’ll be filming, and our shots are on the table. Jorie and I make quick work of tossing them back.
My nose stings and my eyes water, but at least I don’t choke on it. Jorie isn’t as lucky. After some good-natured ribbing, we head back to the dance floor.
When we call it a night, Toby helps me climb into the Wrangler. The ride home is quiet, especially after the noise of the bar and live band. My ears feel muffled, and my head is still a bit muzzy, but overall, I’m more relaxed than I’ve been since Janessa called needing my help.
“You were right. I needed a break,” I whisper my confession after Toby pulls up to the house and turns off the SUV.
It was nice. Toby even made sure I didn’t have to worry about TJ because Connie sent him hourly updates and a picture here and there right up until she’d gone to bed.
“Stay put, I’ll get your door,” Toby orders as I reach for the handle. I really like this bossy alpha thing he has going on. It reminds me of how my dad treated my mom. Not bossy to be a controlling asshole, but assertive for her wellbeing.
As he pulls open my door, I shift around so both feet are aiming out the door and my knees are spread. He holds out his hand and I take it, but instead of climbing out, I pull him between my legs. Of course, he lets me. There is no way I could move him if he didn’t want to be moved.
“Hi.” I sigh when he smiles down at me. He’s just so damned appealing.
“What are you doing, Sugar?”
“Mm, maybe showing you how much I like you?” I peep up at him through my lashes, biting my lip to keep from grinning too big. It gives me a secret thrill every time he calls meSugar. I’m going to have to tell him about my alter persona, Sugar Cookie, soon.
“Is that so? You still feeling those shots, babe?”
I hold up my thumb and forefinger about an inch apart in between our faces before snaking my hands up his chest and looping my arms around his neck. God, I’m smooth. “I know what I’m doing, Tobias.”
“Yeah? And what’s that?”
“I’m… seducing you. Is it working?” I lift my legs, wrapping them around his waist, locking my ankles at the small of his back.
“This isn’t a good idea. We haven’t known each other that long, and tomorrow, you may regret this. Besides, I don’t do relationships.”
I’m not drunk. I know I won’t regret this. I never said a word about a relationship, but we’ve spent most of the last twenty-three days in each other’s company. “How many days have I been, for lack of a better description, living with you?”
“Counting Missoula?” he asks, and I nod. I’m counting it all. “Twenty-five days.”
