Page 29 of Vodka And Virtue

When I exited the store room and passed by the kitchen again, Rory was gone. He was probably seated in the lounge, enjoying his dinner break. I carried the case of napkins to the bar and stocked them under the counter. My mind was in a maelstrom of emotions and thoughts.

Part of me wanted to do something that would light the spark between us, something flirty that would show him I wanted more of his attention. Yet another part of me wanted to remain stagnant, to continue to feel safe inside my comfort zone. From experience, I knew that would get me nowhere, so I decided to pour him a drink and deliver it to his table to complement his meal.

According to him, he liked strong shots; rum, whiskey, vodka. It fit his character. Deciding to challenge him, I poured him a Devil’s Shot; one part sambuca, one part vodka, and three splashes of Tabasco sauce. Let’s see if he could finish it off without making his eyes water and his tongue burn. According to bar legend, if you chased it with another drink, you weren’t as tough as you thought you were. Of course, the fact that I used Devil’s Springs vodka gave me a leg up. It was a hundred and sixty proof alcohol and was sure to kick him in the pants.

I mixed the drink and carried it into the lounge with a sly smile on my face, eagerly anticipating his reaction. Would he realize I was flirting with him? Or would it backfire horribly when I melted the taste buds from his tongue?

When I approached his table, I realized he was seated with another man. A shot of jealousy spiked through me, and it felt foreign and uncomfortable. I have never beenthatguy—jealous or petty. He could be anyone. A friend of Rory’s that he rode with. An employee of his security firm. I tried not to jump to conclusions, but then the man leaned closer, trailing his finger down Rory’s forearm.

I schooled the expression on my face and placed the drink on the table in front of him, glad that he was unknowingly about to consume the fiery shot. He deserved nothing less, the two-timing rat bastard. This was the problem I foresaw when it came to dating men. That I would always feel so far out of my league with them. They were playing a game that I didn’t understand the rules to, and quite frankly, it scared me.

Despite our differences, I could easily fall for a man like Rory—mature, smart, driven—just to have him turn around and crush my heart under his boot. To be that vulnerable terrified me.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Just a drink to wet your whistle. I thought it might complement your dinner. You’ve been working such long hours.”

My face was the picture of concern and humbleness. Hopefully, he suspected nothing. Nor did he introduce me to his friend.

“Go ahead, drink up.” I smiled sweetly, giving nothing away.

Rory picked up the drink and sniffed it before downing the entire thing in one gulp. I watched with satisfaction as his eyes watered.

He shot me a knowing look, his lips quirking. “Delicious. Bold and spicy, just how I like it.”

I caught his double meaning but didn’t say more. He had accepted my challenge and conquered it, which would’ve been so hot if I wasn’t thinking terrible things about him. But as I turned and walked away, I caught a piece of their conversation that intrigued me, and I slowed my steps in order to listen.

“Is that what you like? Bold and spicy men? I can be that for you again.”

Rory’s unmistakable gravelly baritone answered, “You were never that, Alec. I’m not sure why you’re here, but I’d prefer if you left. I’m working.”

“Maybe I should come back when you get off.”

“Maybe you should set your sights elsewhere and leave me alone. I’m not the man for you. I never was, and I never will be. Do you understand? Never again, Alec.”

I felt like a jackass as I retreated. I had doubted him, and I was wrong. My insecurities got the best of me. Again. I continued to spy on them from the bar area. Alec remained at the table another twenty minutes until Rory finished his meal. When he returned to his post by the door, Alec followed, practically hanging on him as he danced to the faint echo of music that carried in from the lounge. The way he slithered against his side, like a snake, made my blood boil.

Couldn’t the man take a hint?

He trailed his slimy fingers down Rory’s chest, stopping to tweak his nipple, and Rory caught his hand and pushed him away. Jealousy burned through my gut, igniting a fire in me. I’d had enough. I slung my rag down on the bar top, ignoring my cousin’s warning.

“Carly, don’t interfere,” Shannon advised.

His words fell on deaf ears as I stalked across the room toward them. I really didn’t know what I would do when I reached them, I was acting on pure instinct and anger. When I was standing before Rory, I grabbed his shirt in my fist and pulled him toward me, planting my lips on his. There was no tongue involved, no finesse. Just a rough possessive claim on his mouth to make my point.

Somewhere in the distance, I heard the brass bell ringing above the bar. My cousin was an idiot to celebrate my first kiss with a man under these circumstances. The kiss wasn’t romantic. It was my futile attempt to hang onto something that was beginning to feel really good. And it was my selfish pride. Everyone clapped and whistled. Rory‘s surprise gave way to passion as I felt his lips part.

Hell, no. This was not going any further. Not with this audience. When I lifted my head, Alec was gone. Good riddance. I hoped to never see him again. But the heat in Rory’s gaze was clearly evident.

Fuck. I lit a match that had started a bonfire. And now I was standing here without a fire extinguisher or a bucket of water to put it out.

Without another word, I smoothed out his shirt and walked away, back to the safety of the bar, but the many curious looks I received from customers soon drove me to hide in the store room. What was I thinking? What in the hell had possessed me to do that? But I couldn’t deny how good it felt to be daring and bold, like Rory. Like my brother. The spike of adrenaline could be as addicting as alcohol.

Without warning, the door was yanked open, and Rory slipped inside, shutting us in together. There was no way this closet was big enough for the both of us. The shelves that lined the walls with liquor and products, and the stacked boxes that covered the floor, took up all the space in here.

I hadn’t even turned on the light because I didn’t want to give away that I was in here. Rory closed the short distance that separated us, backing me up against the shelf. His big solid body dwarfed mine, not that I was a small guy, but he was just…huge. I felt surrounded by him, his scent, the heat from his body, but not smothered. Just enveloped. He was all I could see, all I could smell. And all that I could think of.

Gently, he tilted my chin up to meet his face. “My mouth is still burning from that drink. Help me put the fire out, Carly.”

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