Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“No chance,” Finn said.
“You haven’t seen? You should check your numbers more often, cowboy.”
Finn had a stupid grin on his face. He leaned down to finish our pool game and took his shot. He was distracted, though, and the shot missed entirely, his last ball bouncing off of the edge.
I leaned over and easily sunk the 8-ball, winning the game.
“Enjoy,” I said, handing off the cue to the woman right away.
“Good game, Ori,” Finn was saying, and I gave him a little wave as I walked off toward the bar.
“Have fun,” I said over my shoulder, not looking behind me. I heard the woman start flattering him some more, and by the time I got to the bar, my heart was pounding for no reason at all.
I sat down and Max and Kane came up to serve me right after.
“Want a mojito?” Max asked.
“Mojito? How come?”
“I’m trying out a new recipe for one,” he said. “It’s got cranberry cinnamon orange syrup in it.”
“Then that’s not a mojito, kid,” Kane told him, giving him a glance.
“How’d you get the idea for it?” I asked.
“The cat ghost knocked over the cinnamon in the back earlier today, so I decided to try making something with it,” Max said.
Kane rolled his eyes. “I knocked that over when I was carrying a box earlier. And I’m telling you, if there’s cinnamon in it, that’s not a mojito.”
“Well, it still has mint and rum in it,” Max protested.
“I’m telling you,” Kane said to me, “since I hired this guy, I’ve had the strangest cocktails that have ever graced the walls of this saloon. What was it last week? A hamburger martini?”
Max snorted. “Kane doesn’t appreciate innovation and creativity,” he said. “It was a ketchup martini.”
“Um, Max,” I said, “I’ve got to tell you, that sounds utterly fucking gross.”
“The weird thing is that it was actually not too bad,” Kane admitted. “But it sure as hell isn’t going on the menu.”
“The mojito tonight is good. Trust me. It has a little rosemary in it, too.”
Kane threw his arms up. “You may as well blend up a whole damn pine tree and pop it in there, too,” he said. “You’ve got every herb and spice and citrus in the kitchen in it.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Max said, already muddling and stirring my mojito. “This’ll be on the house. My own little experiment.”
I pulled in a long breath. “Good. I need another drink.”
I had to admit that even though saloons in general weren’t my vibe, Hard Spot… well, I had a soft spot for it now. Everyone who worked here was friendly or at the very least, entertaining.
And right now, Max and Kane were keeping me distracted, making it easier for me not to look back at Finn and his blonde bombshell over by the pool table.
Honestly, it was as if I’d been in a pressure cooker since the moment I woke up in Finn’s bed this morning.
Don’t get ahead of yourself.
This is all fun and games for Finn. A power dynamic. He’s having fun with the fact that he can get to you, in any way he can.
I had felt unwanted for so many years that it seemed impossible that Finn could want me at all, let alone want to be physically close with me. It was stupid to think anything could change that quickly since I moved back to town.
But… was it quick? Or had there been more under the surface for Finn all along? Had there been more under the surface for me, too?
It made my fucking head spin.
“Here you go,” Max said, putting a final garnish of mint leaves and rosemary on top of the fizzy red drink. He slid it across the wood bar top, a proud smile on his face.
“Cranberry mojito, eh?”
“Cranberry cinnamon orange,” he said. “Ah, with rosemary. And lime and mint, as usual. And a little vanilla.”
I puffed out a laugh, taking the everything-drink and bringing the straw to my lips.
First I was hit with the distinct taste of cranberry and citrus, but soon I felt the back end of cinnamon and vanilla, too. The rosemary was very subtle, and certainly didn’t make the drink taste like a pine tree.
“You know what?” I said. “It’s fucking delicious.”
Kane lifted an eyebrow as Max clapped his hands. “One-two thank you,” he said. “Try it, boss.”
Kane begrudgingly picked up the other one Max had prepared, taking a sip. “Wow. Broken clock is right twice a day, huh? That is really good, Max.”
“This is the happiest night of my life,” Max said, beaming.
Ten minutes later I saw Finn in my peripheral vision. He was walking off down the hallway toward the bathroom, and I slid out of my chair, heading his way.
“Cowboy,” I called out, and he turned back to face me.
“Yes?”
I got up close to him, putting my finger in one of his belt loops.