CHAPTER ONE
“Face it, Eric. You’re a fuckboy.”
I turned away from the shapely ass I’d been checking out, and frowned. “Jesus, Nell. That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”
“No, not really,” she said, smoothing a loving hand over her small baby belly.
I fixed my gaze on her face, ignoring everything and anything to do with her midsection. I did not want to know anything about her pregnancy. Not that I wasn’t happy for her and her husband. We’d all gone to school together and been friends a long time, after all. But for lots of really good reasons, me and babies didn’t mix. Every time I saw Nell’s bump, it worried me. I said a little prayer to please let her and the baby be okay this time, and then did my best not to think about it again. Not to remember the baby we’d lost last year. There were things much more happiness-inducing going on in the bar area than falling into grief and regrets again.
“… I don’t even need to look to see. That’s how predictable you are. I can tell when a hot woman walks into the bar just by seeing your eyes light up like a cat that’s spied a mouse.” She paused, then ranted, “Eric? Eric!”
“Yeah?”
She cocked her head. “You’re not even listening to me, are you?”
“Of course I am.” Mostly. I was sort of torn between outrage at Nell’s insinuation, and an itching desire to follow the perfect behind. Didn’t make Nell right, however.
“This is what I’m talking about,” she said. “Your attention span makes a gnat look gargantuan.”
“Calm down. I said I was listening to you.”
“So what did I just say?”
“Well, basically you said that I’m a douche,” I said. “Which hurts.”
Nell crossed her arms. “Oh, really? Now you’re pretending you have feelings?”
“Of course I have feelings.”
“Sure you do. And why do I think you’re a douche?”
“Ah…” I stared off over her shoulder, catching sight once more of the back of the particularly lovely looking female being shown to her table by Lydia. Lydia was the third owner of the Dive Bar, along with me and Nell. But back to the far more important babe: long brown hair hung down to her shoulder blades and a shapely ass swayed with every step. Goddamn. Summertime with all the skin on display was pretty great. But then again, winter with its tight jeans and sweaters, like my new about-to-be-best-female-friend-with-benefits had on, was also pretty fucking awesome. Too bad I could only spy on her from behind. I wonder what her rack was like. Not that I was fussy. Full, generous, slim, pert, soft, firm; it was all good. It’s like I always say: life is like taking off a girl’s bra. You never know exactly what you’re gonna get, but however it turns out, it’s basically awesome.
“Eric?” Nell picked up a knife, immediately dragging me out of my daydreams. She started tapping it against a cutting board all impatient like. “I’m waiting.”
“Women and stuff,” I said, the obvious answer. Generally, it was always one or the other. “You think I’m a douche because of women and stuff.”
Her eyes narrowed. “‘And stuff’?”
“Am I wrong?”
“No.”
Phew. “Okay then.”
“Seriously, Eric. One day you’re going to wish there was more to your life than the next piece of ass.” She stopped cutting to gesticulate with her hands, one of which was still alarmingly wielding the knife. “I mean, the closest you’ve ever come to a long-term relationship was with Alex, and that was only because Joe stole your online identity to woo her!”
“Ha. Ha.” I bet Nell had planned that line a week ago, and was just waiting for a chance to wheel it out. “Can I get back to work now?”
“Whatever.” She slapped the knife down. “You’re a lost cause. I give up on you.”
Thank God for that.
Baby hormones made Nell even scarier than usual. Just the other day, she’d ripped me a new one for breathing too loudly. Now she was calling me a manwhore. Talk about unfair. Sure, I’d slept with a number of women. I liked women—a lot. But there was more to me than just my sex life. It kind of did hurt that one of my oldest friends, who I’d been through some serious shit with, didn’t share that opinion.
Anyway, forget Nell and her bad mood. There were more pleasant duties to attend to on the restaurant floor. Being that it was midafternoon, things were pretty quiet. No one was waiting for me to fix them a drink at the bar. Taka, the waiter on duty, stood behind the counter, busy folding napkins and cleaning cutlery and shit. I was good to go.
“I’ve got this, Lydia. You should take a break,” I said. “Get off your feet for a while.”
She gave me a knowing smile before smacking me hard in the chest with the menu. All that stuff about women being soft and sweet was such bullshit.
“Sure, Eric,” she said. “Just don’t scare her away.”
“When have I ever scared a customer away? Hell, my personal magnetism is the only thing that keeps this bar afloat.”
No answer. Instead, after a long look, Lydia turn on her heel and headed out back. Probably off to discuss my inadequacies with Nell. Where to bury my body in the woods and things like that. This was the problem with co-owning a business with two women. Being the only one with a dick, I got blamed for everything. A stock delivery arrived late—my fault. The register acted up—also my fault. Someone broke a nail or some shit—me again. All this attitude thrown my way, despite me faithfully keeping my word and not sleeping with any more of our waitresses. Yes, employees were off-limits. Fine with me. Things tended to get awkward when it was time to move on. Didn’t matter that I was always up front with things being about a good time, not a long time.
So no messing around with the staff. Female customers, however, were another matter entirely.
“Hey there,” I said to the curvy brunette.
The woman gave a slight smile, not even meeting my eyes. Her features were strong yet stunning, a long straight nose and a heavy jaw. Not pretty, exactly. But striking, despite the shadows under her hazel eyes. Probably midtwenties.
“I’m Eric.” I handed over the menu with an easy smile. “Welcome to the Dive Bar.”
“Hi,” she murmured, immediately checking out the menu while I continued to check out her. No wedding ring. Lots of curves. A blue sweater stretched beautifully across her tits. Definitely more than a handful there, thank you God.
“Let me guess.” I braced my hands on the back of the empty seat opposite her.
“Let you guess what?” she asked without looking up, disinterested.
“Your drink.”
“What makes you think I’m drinking?”
“Why else would you be in a bar?” I countered, waiting for her, pleading with her to look at me. It was hard to dazzle her with my winning smile if she wouldn’t even face me.
“Well, you also serve food and I happen to be hungry.”
“Good point. So you’d just like some ice water or something?”
Finally, her gaze shifted from the menu to me and stuck. Blue eyes took me in, looking over every inch with interest. The faintest trace of color lit her cheeks. Excellent.