It was just the reverse pickup line to shrivel his tail. He bailed without a word.
What, no good-bye? She turned back toward the bar and watched through the mirror as he encouraged contender number two, who was now looking her way.
Contestant number two, come on down!
Strolling up, what this guy lacked in a buff bod he more than made up for in a suffocating cloud of Axe body spray.
Curse that company for making an aerosol.
He plopped on the seat next to her. “Excuse me. I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room. I mean, that outfit really looks hot on you.” He leaned in. “How about I buy you a drink? What can I get you?”
What do you know? He’s a closer.
Well, two could play at that game.
Jaclyn settled on a more direct approach. Despite his best attempt at bravado, his bouncing leg and inability to hold eye contact revealed his nervousness. She swiveled her bar stool toward him, crossing her legs and giving him a front-row view. Her shapely calves and lower thighs poured from beneath the hem of her skirt.
“Well, maybe.” Leaning in and letting her breasts test the buttons of her blouse, she pitched her voice in a breathy and demanding tone. “The last guy I dated could hold an erection for two and a half hours, cock ring and Cialis free. God, what I wouldn’t give for a long, steady pony ride.”
She put her hand on his tapping leg, stopping the bouncing dead in its tracks. “I’m game if you are, stud, but you will be judged. And bound.”
He stumbled off his stool and scurried back to the pack.
What about my drink? Oh well.
Next!
As bachelor number three casually strolled her way, he did something unexpected. He connected with her in the mirror, his bright blue gaze locked and loaded on hers.
Men were usually too busy gawking at her assets to make real eye contact. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with him, a rare breed of classic guy-next-door that she thought didn’t exist outside of sitcom reruns and Hallmark movies.
There was something about him. Magnetic despite his demeanor. She just couldn’t put her finger on it.
The way he looked at her. Carried himself. Brimming with casual comfort. Like she could drop by and ask him to mow her lawn, and he’d do it. And whether “mow her lawn” was code for taking her in a hot hour of ecstasy or actually trimming the grass outside her house, she could oddly see him diving into either scenario.
Please don’t reek of cheap cologne.
At the bar, he barely tapped the seat next to her, asking politely, “May I?”
Jaclyn took the opportunity to get a better look. The glasses were a poor disguise for an obviously gorgeous man. He reminded her of a blond Clark Kent. How the hell Lois Lane never saw the sizzling hottie behind the thick-framed spectacles was beyond her. She also noticed his suit was nice, but hardly a Tom Ford fit or expense. It hung on the body of a well-built but not overly made-up man.
“Why not? Everyone else has.”
Playing this one a little cooler wasn’t exactly planned. More like a desperate measure to cover for how hot she was getting. Like gazing into the sun. She tore open a straw to sip her water, hoping to quell the blush rising up her face.
He sat on the stool and leaned closer, keeping his back to the two men watching. “Listen, I’m sorry about this, but those guys and I sort of made a bet on who could buy you a drink.”
“Oh. I was wondering about all the action I was getting tonight. I figured the billboard I took out in the men’s room was finally paying off.” She trained her eyes forward, pretending interest in the bar’s bourbon selection.
“I’ll go. Again, I’m really sorry.”
He swiveled to leave, but stopped as she softly said, “Hang on.” Perusing the shelf of enticing glass bottles, she asked, “What’s the wager?”
He loosened his collar a bit before answering and slowly blew out a breath. “Five hundred dollars.”
“Each?” Jaclyn’s lip curled up in amusement. “So, I assume if you buy me a drink, I get half, right?”
A glimmer of hope rose in his tone. “Um, yes. Of course.”
She tapped her fingernails against the cool wall of the water glass, drawing a fingertip through a few drops of condensation. “I have an idea. Why not go back to them, say you thought about it, and I seemed ready to accept, but you got cold feet. Nervous.”
“Nervous? To buy a woman a drink?”
“I don’t know. Worried I might expect more. And you’re misleading me. Wing it.” She bit her bottom lip. “See if they’ll take the bait.”
“Bait for what?” he asked softly, questioning her reflection.
She spoke to the mirror, keeping her voice low. “The bait to up the ante.” She slipped the straw to her lips, sucking another sip through her confident smile.
He leaned in, shoulder to shoulder, speaking in dramatically hushed tones. “So, you want me to hustle them?”
“Mm-hmm.” Her coy look caught his.
“Before I dive headfirst into the short con of a mastermind, can I at least know your name?”
Can you at least tear off your tie? “Jaclyn.”
“Richard,” he said, then headed back to the huddled men who’d just become his marks.
Jaclyn watched, impressed as he really seemed to be milking it. She was nearly giddy, inwardly cheering him on as his animated chatter continued. Between their insistent nods and his “oh no, I couldn’t possibly” posture, her anticipation flipped to elation at the sight of them shoving cash into his hands.
She faintly heard, “Yeah, if you get this, you’ve earned it.”
He quickly tucked the cash in his wallet and walked back to Jaclyn in a decidedly cocky, almost pimp-walk manner.
“Well, Mr. DiCaprio, what are you up to?” she asked as he reclaimed his seat.
He again leaned in, a bit closer than the last time. The man smelled wonderful. A blend of subtle cologne, a freshness that must be his laundry, and an undertone of something that could only be described as him.
“Feel free to call me Leo, and we’re up to two grand. I’m really hoping I can buy you a drink now, because I’m on a double-or-nothing deal with these guys. I’d really hate to be out four grand for the short pleasure of your company.”
The blue of his softly pleading eyes sent her thoughts straight south, making her wonder if he tasted as good as he smelled. She looked over to see the bartender watching, wide-eyed and curious for her answer.
“I guess you can buy a girl a drink.”
The bartender breathed a loud sigh of relief, causing both her and Richard to laugh.
“I’ll take my usual, Jim.”
The bartender nodded. “And for you, sir?”
“I’ll have what she’s having.”
The bartender handed them two tumblers of Kentucky’s best bourbon, and they clinked a toast.
Jaclyn sipped hers, thoroughly enjoying the aroma before letting a “mmm” escape on the exhale. Her coconspirator, on the other hand, took a sip, then desperately tried to muffle the choking that jerked to a cough.
“You okay?” she asked as she patted his back. Her patting turned to petting before she yanked her hand back. Damn, he’s built.
“Yeah, fine,” he said in a gruff voice, clearing his throat.