I jerk the door open and walk in. Em’s still sitting at the bar, sipping on a beer and talking with Rusty. Now that the fight has started, the front bar has cleared out; just a few customers linger at a table in the far corner of the room.
“I was just telling your friend, Emmie here,” Rusty says with an easy-to-read smile, “that your groupies are such a pain in the ass.”
I grin at Rusty. I haven’t told her about Em, but that girl doesn’t miss a thing. She must’ve seen me talking with Em the other night, and considering I don’t philander with the ladies at JZS’s, she put two and two together.
“Hey, Em,” I say, walking behind the bar, my eyes not leaving hers.
“Jax,” she offers me a tight smile. I sense she’s not buying Rusty’s excuse for Lisa. But, hell, she’s still here.
“Well,” Rusty drops the towel draped over her shoulder onto the bar, “think I’m gonna check to see if the ladies need anything in the back room before you head out. Nice meeting you, Em.”
“You, too,” Em’s eyes shift from me to Rusty and her smile softens. “I like her,” she says when Rusty clears the room.
“So do I. Hired her two years ago, and I’m not sure what we’d do without her.” I gaze at her. “I’m glad you came.”
“Yeah, but I’m not sure your groupie’s too happy about it.”
“She means nothing—”
“I told you before I’m not really the jealous type.”
“You shouldn’t be.” I reach out and take her small stubborn chin between my fingers. “You know what you are, don’t you?”
“No, Jax.” Her eyes sparkle like an envious blue moon. “What am I?”
“You’re my beautiful Em.”
“Yours. Really? And what makes you think that?”
“Hey,” I hear to the right of my ear.
“Yeah?” I shoot my eyes to a patron across the bar, wanting nothing more than to tell him to fuck off.
“Can I get a Guinness?”
“Sure. I’ll bring it on over to your table.”
“Thanks, dude.”
I nod. “Guess I better get his beer.”
“Yeah,” her pretty lips quirk, “we can finish our conversation a little later.”
“Sure, this Guinness is gonna take a few to pour anyway.” I grab a glass from under the counter.
“Why? Is there some kind of technique to pouring beer now?”
“With a Guinness, yeah, it takes a patient hand.” I place the glass beneath the spout.
“How so?”
“First, you have to tilt the glass at a 45 degree level, fill it halfway, and then,” I set the glass of dark beer and foam on the counter, “you wait for it to settle.”
“How long do you have to wait?”
“Until it relaxes.” I rest my hands on the bar, “but I’m a patient man, Em,” I look into her eyes, “and I know how to wait for things, especially when it comes to the things that I want.”
“And,” she sets her chin into the palm of her hand, “just what do you want?”
I smile and glance at the glass. “Time for the next step.” I pick the glass up. “Now, you place the tap directly over the middle of the foam and slowly fill it to the top.” I watch the beer but feel Em’s eyes on me. “There,” I set it again on the bar.
“It’s ready?”
“It looks like it, but no,” I grin at her, “and no matter how thirsty you are for it, if you want to really enjoy it, you have to wait just a little longer.”
“I can’t wait any longer, Jax,” she says, and I get the notion that she’s not talking about the Guinness.
“What are you sayin’? You relaxed and settled, Em?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’re not ready? Like this beer, even after all its preparation, there’s more to come.” I pick up the glass and walk around the bar.
She places her hand on my arm. “What’s left besides drinking it?”
“You don’t merely drink it.” I lean down. “You wrap your hand around it, slide your thumb along all its wetness, pick it up, and then you take your time, sipping, tasting, swallowing, and absorbing every fucking delicious bit of it. And even after it’s gone from the glass, it’s not finished with you yet. It’s gonna run all through your veins, making your body tingle all over, and leaving you wanting more.”
“Stop fucking with me, Jax.” She lets go of my arm.
“Oh, princess, I haven’t begun to fuck with you yet,” I smile and walk over to the guy to give him his Guinness.