Page 65 of Whisking It All

Tessa arched an eyebrow in question but took the seat. “What’s going on?”

“Congratulations. You are taking your father’s place with his trivia team. Now these boys won’t be able to complain that the numbers aren’t fair when the girls and I win—again,” Helen said with a smile. As she turned to go, she winked at Jamie before sing-songing, “Good luck.”

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Jamie said.

“But maybe you could stick around long enough for the ‘viral videos’ category?” Gavin asked.

Tessa laughed. “You buy me another drink and I’d be happy to.”

“Done!” Gavin said with a smile.

“I’ll get it,” Jamie said, getting to his feet.

All the relief from his conversation with Whisky was rapidly dissipating the longer he sat next to Tessa, his calm replaced by a restlessness that demanded he do something with his hands. Getting her a drink seemed like a better option than hauling her outside and kissing the hell out of her like he’d wanted to do since he’d left her in her kitchen two days ago. Truth be told, he’d thought of nothing else since. Pressing her up against the wall and tasting her lips, wrapping her legs around his waist and carrying her to his bed, settling between her thighs…

“What’re you drinking?” he asked, forcing his mind away from the thoughts that threatened to give him a hard-on right there in the middle of his favorite bar.

“French 75. Thanks.” Her smile turned shy as Jamie nodded and headed towards the bar.

While he waited for the bartender to get her drink, he glanced at Whisky’s latest messages.

WhiskyBusiness: I can’t just buy a bottle of WD-40. What if Bob feels unwelcome?

WhiskyBusiness: I know I was trying to get rid of him before, but now it’s kind of comforting to have him around.

WhiskyBusiness: He’s my emotional support ghost.

WhiskyBusiness: Sometimes when I need to clear my head, I blast some music and talk to Bob while I bake. By the time the oven timer goes off, I usually feel better. Even if Bob never talks back.

DiceDiceBaby: Do you want him to talk back?

WhiskyBusiness: God, no! Can you imagine?

DiceDiceBaby: Maybe if you talked to someone who wasn’t incorporeal you could clear your head and let poor Bob be at rest at the same time.

WhiskyBusiness: I’m talking to you right now, aren’t I?

WhiskyBusiness: Unless you’re a ghost, too, and just haven’t told me.

DiceDiceBaby: I think you’ve been watching too many Halloween movies.

DiceDiceBaby: Maybe you should talk to your guy. The one you’re hung up on.

WhiskyBusiness: He doesn’t want to be my guy.

DiceDiceBaby: I find that hard to believe.

WhiskyBusiness: And your brilliant, impossible woman? Are you talking to her?

DiceDiceBaby: Trying pretty hard to avoid it actually.

WhiskyBusiness: You should talk to her. Tell her how you feel.

DiceDiceBaby: Yeah? You taking your own advice on that one?

WhiskyBusiness: Maybe I will.

Jamie accepted the frothy drink from the bartender and made his way back to the table, where Tessa was blushing furiously and shoving her phone in her back pocket.

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