He waved it off. “Gave it up. Drinking, that is.” He held up his glass. “Non-alcoholic is all I’m having these days.”
“Drinking problem?”
“Not anymore.” He smiled widely and leaned back with one arm across the back of the booth and so very close to her. “No more overindulging for me. Drinks or otherwise.”
The way his shirt parted at the top, she could see a little of his chest. She took another sip and allowed her gaze to linger there and then dip her stare to his rock hard abs. Hot. Hot. Hot.
“What’s your name anyway?” she asked, feeling a slow warmth spread in her body. From him or the drink—she couldn’t decide which one was causing the sensation. Either way, she liked it.
“Austin,” he said easily enough, but there was something in the way he said it that made her think caution lurked around the corner. As an executive assistant, she’d dealt with people at King’s Department Store long enough to read them.
Peg stuck out her hand. “Well, Austin, I’m Peg Newbury. And hell’s bells, I gotta say you saved my behind back there. Thanks, buddy.”
When he shook her hand, she nearly yanked it back. Warm, strong, slightly callused, it engulfed hers. But the tingling from his touch whooshed right through her and to her toes in her size ten flats.
He sucked in a sharp breath. “Peg,” he said in a low voice that turned her to mush. “What’s a hottie like you doing picking up guys at a bar?”
Tugging her hand out of his, she dragged it through her hair, thinking it must be standing up on end right about now. “Funny, real funny, buster. No one’s ever mistaken me for a hot chick before and never will.”
“You’re wrong.”
Was he serious?
“You’ve got such great lines. You don’t need them, you know. Believe you me, you can cut the baloney with me.”
He chuckled. “No—what did you say?—baloney, Peg. Not my style. Just the truth.”
She snorted, and then went back to her drink. She smacked her lips when she was done. “Yummy. I’ve got to tell Rico about this.”
“Who’s Rico?”
“My former best friend.” She huffed, crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned back. “He pushed me to do this thing. Online catching, fishing, whatever you want to call it. Dating, ha!”
“Blind dates?”
Holding up her index finger, she poked him in his rock solid chest. “One date. That’s all. One measly date to show off in front of my family next week.” She threw up her hands. “He brings me here and tosses me to the wolves.”
“Show off?” he asked. She swore he cringed.
“Not like that. Not some spectacle or anything. Just to quiet down the restless natives, or relatives, is more like it. You know—take the scent off of my track so they stop harping about me not being married yet, ever, whatever.”
“Don’t you want to get married? Someday? Someway?”
“Me? Are you kidding? I’m the beanstalk all the kids made fun of. Why, I haven’t had a serious date in,” she counted on her fingers, “three years. Nah, I got my work. Love it. Not giving it up, either. And babies, no way—my friends have more than enough for me to spoil. Sister-in-law’s gonna have a little bambino in a couple of months. Nah, I’m good. Plus I wouldn’t want to inflict this on any offspring.” She waved a hand over her body.
Silence stretched. She grew uncomfortable. Why had she said so much? And to a stranger? Could she crawl under the table and right out the door now?
“You’re serious?” Skepticism clouded his words.
“Honest-to-goodness, cross my heart, serious as a heart attack,” she said.
“You’re wrong.” There was a stubborn edge to his tone that had her jerking to stare into his eyes.
Gulping hard, she shook her head.
He nodded. “Oh, yes you are. Believe you me, you are.” He’d used her saying back at her.
She brushed it off. “Thanks, pal, but I know the—”
“The hell you do,” he muttered, and then downed his drink. “Another round.” He plucked up her empty glass and his, and then made his way to the bar.
Peg stared at his wide shoulders and stiff back. Now, what had she said to get him ticked off like that?
Fiddling with her pencil, she tapped it on her clipboard. But she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. His hair, what was left of it, was a sandy brown, she guessed. She didn’t usually like the look, but on him, it was hot. And the scruff on his jaw made him look even hotter, if that were possible.
Standing at the bar waiting on the drinks, he turned, catching her.