Page 18 of Just Friends

He sidestepped the dig. “I’d take you home first.”

She snickered. “I bet you would.”

Yeah, he’d take her home in a heartbeat, but intoxicated chicks were always off limits. He chewed for a minute before responding. “But I wouldn’t touch you if you were drunk.”

“How chivalrous of you,” she quipped.

“I’m serious.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “What’s the line?”

“What line?”

“If I were drunk you wouldn’t touch me.”

“Of course not.”

“What if I had one glass of wine. Then in a buzzed state, I said I wanted you right now. You would say no?”

Well, hell, his dick popped to life with a strong opinion on the matter. Since he hadn’t gotten laid in nine months. After finding out about her breakup, he stopped picking up women; he’d grown bored of the whole bar scene. He’d wanted her for so long, and if she discovered he’d been sleeping around while pursuing her, he’d never stand a chance. She was a nice girl, the type of lady he never thought he deserved. Buzzed wasn’t the same as inebriated, he reasoned. She laughed. “What? I’m thinking.”

“I see that. There’s smoke coming from your ears.”

“All right, fine.” He held up his hands in surrender. “Here’s what I’d do.I’d administer a field sobriety test and, only if you passed it, then we could sleep together.”

Laughing, she covered her face with her hand. When she glanced up the color had returned to her cheeks; Weasel wondered if she’d skipped lunch. “That’s so romantic,” she said sarcastically.

“I’ll order some wine, and we’ll find out.”

She smiled. “I’m not in the mood to win that bet tonight.”

Tonight? Did that mean she wanted to win that bet another night? “I think we’d both win.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but the server sidled up to the table and suggested dessert. Rebecca declined, and he requested the check. Her cell phone sounded, and she stared for a minute.

“Something wrong?”

“Text from Brandon. The caterer for the wedding tomorrow canceled. He wants to hire me to cook for them.” She tapped out a reply. “I need to know what personnel they have, supplies, and is the menu set. I can’t cater an entire event alone and with less than twenty-four-hour notice.”

He handed the waiter his credit card and watched her stress return as she texted.

She gripped the phone and looked at him. “Sorry about that. They have a staff, but he’s sending me the menu. I’m going to have to go shopping and try to create a menu as close as possible to what the couple has picked. Let’s pray I can do this.”

He leaned across the dinner table and rubbed her hand. “You can. When are you going shopping?”

“Tonight,” she replied, picking up her phone. “Gotta go by Huntington and pick up their card; then to the restaurant supply and grocery.”

Not liking where this was heading. “Where’s a restaurant supply store?”

“Chattanooga,” she said, setting the phone down where the screen showed a GPS map.

Oh hell, no. “I’ll drive you,” Weasel said. She shook her head, and he stopped her, reaching for her again. “It’ll be dark and late on the way back. Let me take you; otherwise, I’ll worry.”

She sighed and leveled a look at him those emerald green eyes sparkled in the candlelight. “You’ve had a long day.”

“So have you.”

“This isn’t yours…”

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