Page 21 of Bad Behavior

The rush hits, people streaming in the front door. One of the great things about our location is that there’s a boardwalk just across the street. People strolling see Cure, note how busy we are, and they come in droves.

It gets loud, with people yelling to each other and the music just a little louder than that. I dim the lights, setting the mood for the evening. I like it dark and slutty, which is my preferred light setting at most bars.

Eventually, the rush slows, and I can slow down too. I look up to find Emma sliding into a seat opposite where I’m standing behind the bar.

“Hey,” she says, smiling a little. Her voice is just the right amount of throaty. “How about that drink? I think I’ve been a very good girl tonight.”

She actually winks at me when she says it, too. I can’t help that I immediately get halfway hard; I’m just glad that the heavy leather bartender’s apron I’m wearing hides multitudes of sins.

I play it off, as if her words have no effect on me. “What’ll you have?”

She twists her dark hair around a finger, sucking on her lower lip. “Mmmm… surprise me. Dealer’s choice.”

I don’t really know what that means, but I remember that she likes drinks with a lot of fruit. I decide to make a Moscow Mule, vodka and ginger beer and lime. I pour it into a copper mug, garnishing the drink with lime.

Then I set it before her. “Here. The dealer felt like making you a Moscow Mule.”

Emma’s brows lift a little, but she leans in and takes a sip from the straw. “Mmm! That’s so good.”

“I mean, I do make drinks professionally.” I stand back, wiping my hands on a bar towel.

She laughs. “I know. I just meant… I thought that you might serve me something made with whiskey. I was preparing myself for the worst.”

I grin. “You’ve never tried my Lynchburg Lemonade. It’s bourbon and lemonade, and even the girliest girl sucks them down like there’s no tomorrow.”

A moment passes between us, where I realize that what I just said sounds vaguely sexual. She realizes it too, I can tell by her face. For a second, I’m not sure how or if I want her to respond to that.

Then it passes. She makes it easy, rescuing me.

“Would I want to try it?” she asks, wrinkling her nose.

“The next drink I make you will have whiskey in it,” I warn her. “It’s decided.”

She grins. “If you make it, I will try it.”

Alice rings in a ticket of wines for a table. I grab it, but Gunnar comes up to me. “I’ll take that one. You should get out of here.”

I hand the ticket over, cocking a brow. “Do these glasses of wine happen to be for that table of girls in the corner?”

Gunnar smothers a grin and shrugs. “Maybe.”

I roll my eyes and start untying my apron. “Have fun with that.”

I head into the back room, hanging up the apron and gathering my leather jacket, motorcycle helmet, and cell phone. When I get out to the bar again, Emma is standing in the gaps between the counters, her satchel slung over one shoulder. She looks over at me, looking a little nervous.

“Do you wanna give me a ride?” she asks, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Her face heats. “On your motorcycle, I mean. It’s kinda late to be walking by myself.”

Do I ever,is my first response. But I just cock my head. She’s made the walk home alone dozens of times, but I can’t say that to her. Asher would never forgive me if anything happened to his precious little sister.

I just need to remember that.

“Yeah, alright,” I say, keeping my expression neutral. “It’s less than a mile.”

She smiles. “Yep. I’m just… really tired?”

She turns her statement into a question, which makes me think that she’s full of shit. But I just head out of Cure, expecting her to follow. She’s such a flirt, been teasing me all fucking night.

I’ll be glad to see the back of her when I’m riding away, I tell myself. But it’s not really true, and I know it.

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