I look around the patio. AJ called Joe’s Place a hole but it’s kind of quaint in my opinion. Definitely small, but clean and neat with those big heater things in case the weather turns cold. A cheesy strand of colored Christmas lights around the awning adds a little ambiance. It’s basic, but comfy.
The door swings open again with another person going through to the main restaurant. On the other side, AJ is by the bar, chatting with whomever is mixing drinks. I freeze with a chip halfway to my mouth, when I recognize who he’s talking to.
Jake.
Turns out the bartender at Joe’s also happens to be my sort-of mechanic and grumpy, reluctant savior. It catches me off guard, the way the sight of his face, his strong jaw and full mouth makes my stomach feel funny. Maybe it’s the jalapeño I just bit into. I frown at the plate like maybe it’s got some explaining to do.
Either way, I can’t seem to keep from looking up each time the door swings open to watch Jake chatting with customers and mixing drinks. He looks different up there behind the bar. Relaxed and definitely more attractive out of those stodgy mechanic clothes. Tonight he’s got on jeans and a simple dark muscle shirt that stretches across his chest and shows off his sculpted, tattooed arms. The colors marching up and down make me want to get close, make me curious to go over and touch his skin.
I mean, because of the tattoos. I’ve always thought body art was cool. I have a little one—the Chinese symbol for strength—on my lower back. I got it in Ohio on a whim as I was heading out of town. I figured I could use all the fortifying I could get.
I realize I’m staring at the door, watching for it to open again so I can get another glimpse of Jake. I breathe a little faster, hardly believing the things I’m thinking.
AJ comes through the door with our drinks, and this time I stay focused squarely on him. “Here we are,” he says brightly.
“Holy crap, I could swim in that drink. Thanks.” Okay I try to stay focused. As I grab the margarita and I’m licking the salty, sloshed-over bit from my thumb, Jake and his too-tight shirt head through the door. He drops off a basket of fries a few tables away where a couple of older guys and a younger one with a shaved head are sitting. The younger one looks closer to Jake’s age. Twenty-five? Thirty? Probably somewhere between those numbers.
Jake must know them. He flips the last chair at the table around and sits to talk to the younger guy in short, hushed tones.
He’s facing away from me, and I can see the way his back muscles move under his clothes. The bunching in his forearms stands out, even under the bright color of all those tattoos. A glint of some small, sparkly thing catches the light when he turns his head. I hadn’t noticed that he had an earring before. I bet he doesn’t wear it at the shop. It looks good on him.
Helluva job I’m doing not paying attention. Bang-up. First class.
AJ clinks his glass against mine. “I know, right? Hottie McBartender is hot.”
Busted. I cough and try to come up with something else I could’ve been staring at, but that broad back is directly in my line of sight. I cram a nacho in my mouth, shrugging to buy some time. “He... sort of saved my ass the night I got here,” I explain finally. “My car died. I was stranded by the exit to Evergreen Grove in the middle of a rainstorm. I almost got hit by a truck. He bailed me out.” Never mind that I stupidly put my own ass in the path of the truck. We’re not going there.
AJ’s eyes are wide enough to be comical, like one of those cartoon babies. Except the subject is serious. “Shit. Yeah, I remember he drove you to the motel. You’re okay, right? I guess you must be. But... I mean...”
I take another drink, deciding right then that a) I freaking love margaritas, and b) I better slow my roll because back home we got drunk on whatever cheap wine or watered-down beer we were able to score from the guy at the Quick Mart who didn’t check IDs. This drink is goooood.
“I’m fine,” I reassure him. “All I’m saying is that he pretty much literally saved me, and he’s trying to help me with my car or whatever so, you know...” I try to wave the whole thing away with my hand. If only everything was that easy. “It’s not like I’m hot for him. Just gratitude. That’s all.”
“Really?” AJ grinned. “Cuz you kinda look like you wanna show him exactly how grateful you are. I would if I were you.” He bites his lip and wiggles his eyebrows to make his meaning clear.
I laugh so hard I spit my drink across the table. “You’re terrible.” I see Jake turn toward us from the corner of my eye and try not to let on that I notice.