Page 79 of Lavender Lake
A customer bumped into me from behind, sending me face first into Bowman’s chest. “Oof,” I muttered, as my Manhattan sloshed onto his shirt. I placed a hand on his pec to steady myself.
He took my drink and set it on the bar before grabbing a stack of bar napkins.
“Sorry!” the man said behind me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.”
I took the napkins from Bowman and blotted the spot on his shirt.
“Did I get you wet?” the man asked in contrition. “Can I buy you a drink to make up for it?”
“No, I’m fine, but you did get my friend wet.”
“Sorry, man,” the guy said.
Bowman raised his eyes. “What, no drink for me?”
“I’m not trying to sleep with you,” the guy announced with a drunken smile.
Bowman’s muscles bunched beneath my hand. I curled my fingertips into his shirt. “Hey, let it be.”
I looked over my shoulder at the guy who’d bumped into me. His cheeks were ruddy and his eyes were glassy. “Did you drive here?” I purred.
His gaze widened and he nodded.
I dropped the soiled napkins on the bar and turned toward the man to give him my full attention. “Can I have your keys?” I asked, holding out my hand.
He fumbled in his pants pocket and extracted a key ring and plopped the set of keys into my palm.
“You gonna drive us, sweetheart?” he asked.
I flashed him a grin. “Wade!”
A moment later, Wade appeared behind the bar. “What’s up?”
I handed him the keys and pointed to the drunk man. “He’s not allowed to drive home.”
“Hey!” the drunk man whined.
Bowman sidled up next to me and draped an arm across my shoulder. “Be thankful she’s taking care of the problem and I’m not.”
The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed as his gaze darted from Bowman back to me. “So, you’re not going home with me?”
“Nope,” I said.
“Take my number.”
Bowman’s arm tightened around me.
“No,” I said. “But thanks for the offer. Wade?”
“I’ll take care of it.”
I turned in Bowman’s embrace. “Come on. I need some air.”
Bowman and I trailed our way through the throng of people until we got to the door. We went outside and I breathed in the warm night.
“The fucking audacity,” Bowman grumbled.
