![]() ![]() “Because I can buy my own drinks,” I said, albeit a bit slurred. “Did you say I couldn’t buy you a drink because Anthony capped you or because you really wouldn’t let me?” he asked. I wouldn’t have to pretend to be sober, and his drink of choice told me he wasn’t fussy or trying to impress me. In half a dozen pulls, the stranger knocked back enough cheap beer to be at least close to my level of intoxication. I frowned when Anthony took my glass instead of refilling it. “The usual?” Anthony asked from the end of the bar. We would flirt, I would forget about any residual guilt, and I would go home. Letting my guard down for a beautiful stranger for an hour was justifiable, especially after a sixth glass. “Whatever I’m buying,” I said, not trying to hide my best flirtatious smile. Although he might be intimidating to the average male, I didn’t get the sense that he was dangerous-at least not to me-even if he was twice my size. ![]() His pear-colored eyes glowed against his beach-bronzed skin. ![]() Even sitting down, I could tell that he was tall-at least six foot three. He was as beautiful as the Southern California weather, and he couldn’t have looked less like Jackson. I rolled my eyes and then decided to look over at him. Something made me want to turn and get a good look at him, but I kept my eyes on the line of liquor bottles on the other side of the bar.Īfter the man realized he wasn’t going to get a better response, he moved to the empty stool next to me. ![]() There was something in his voice-not just ego but more than confidence. ![]()
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