Irritated with herself for wondering what Jasper had thought of her appearance, Rita tore her gaze from the mirror. 揌e owns a bar called the Liquor Hole.?When that bit of news only made her sister giggle, Rita shook her head. 揕ook, the car will be repaired in the morning. Let抯 just order some shitty pizza and watch Golden Girls on your laptop.?
Peggy抯 eyes went wide at the mention of the only pastime they抎 had in common as kids. Something they discovered when they抎 both contracted chicken pox and gotten quarantined in the same room. At first they抎 simply been annoyed at the forced proximity, but somewhere around the third episode, they抎 been hooked. 揧ou still watch??
揜ose was in the lead for a while, but Dorothy is back to being my favorite.?
揑抦 still a Blanche girl.?Peggy抯 excitement drained away and she groaned. 揘o. We抣l have plenty of time to watch Golden Girls on the trip. Tonight, we抮e going to the Liquor Hole.?
Rita barked a laugh. 揧ou抮e drunk. That抯 not happening.?
揑t抯 completely happening.?Peggy leaned back on an elbow. 揑抣l be your wing-woman long enough to make sure Jasper抯 not a creepdog, then I抣l leave you to your road booty.?
揜oad booty??
揌ooking up on the road,?Peggy explained with exaggerated patience. 揔nowing Aaron梐nd myself梩his won抰 be the last hookup perpetrated by a Clarkson before we reach New York. You should pride yourself on being the first.?
揊orgive me for not cheering.?Rita tugged on her plain, long-sleeved T-shirt. The urge to ask Peggy for something to borrow was strong, but she staunchly resisted. Going out for a beer and possibly running into a man was one thing; dressing up outside the black zone of safety was quite another. She wouldn抰 even allow for the chance of road booty. Taking her clothes off and getting sweaty with a stranger was something other people engaged in. Not that she judged those who went out looking for one-night stands, but she抎 never understood casual sex. Being naked was about as vulnerable as one could get in Rita抯 book梟othing casual about it.
Unfortunately, as much as she wanted to decline Peggy抯 offer for wing-woman support, she could still feel Jasper抯 breath feathering against her mouth, the outline of his erection where it had brushed her belly. At the time, she抎 told herself it was his belt buckle, but no. For some reason, he抎 desired her. Some undiscovered part of her wanted to see that desire up close, just once more. Feel the gravitational pull she抎 encountered outside the greasy garage, experience the earth tilting in a way that made her stumble blindly in Jasper抯 direction.
It was all too fast. Too risky to her self-esteem if something went wrong, or someone else caught his eye instead. But she抎 left San Diego for a reason. This was her new start. It was silly to officially begin that fresh start by putting herself into a situation where a random hookup might occur梟ot that she was allowing herself to hope梑ut maybe the mere act of going and being available was enough for now.
Rita pursed her lips at Peggy. 揙ne drink.?
Chapter Seven
It just had to be one of those nights, didn抰 it?
Every few weeks, the Liquor Hole regulars tended to get rowdier than usual. Drinking one whiskey shot over their usual limit, dancing more suggestively than they would if their mama was watching. There was no explaining or predicting when one of these witchy evenings would roll around. Jasper had even gotten out a calendar and tried matching up the occasions with the moon cycle, but no damn luck. He reckoned it was down to mob mentality of some sort. One regular acting up gave their friends the excuse to follow suit. The ugly cycle usually continued until either punches were thrown or make-out sessions got out of control at the bar, forcing the bartender to spray the couples down with water from the soda gun.
Wasn抰 it just his fortune in life that a full moon should be looming tonight, when he抎 finally felt interest in a woman and expected her to walk through the entrance any moment? Hell, that was an exaggeration. He didn抰 expect a damn thing. That downright unmasculine tightness in his chest was hope, plain and simple. He hoped she抎 walk through the entrance. Otherwise he抎 have to go knocking on motel-room doors looking for her and that would just be awkward, especially if he located Rita抯 brothers first. Not to mention that leaving the Liquor Hole in the hands of his two bartenders梠ne of whom he suspected was one toke away from a coma梬ould be unwise.
If the gods were smiling down on him, Rita would show up. Then she抎 let him take her out for some goddamn sushi. Jasper had a hunch that eventuality was about as likely as an indoor snowstorm in June, but the only weapon in his arsenal was optimism, so he would use it. Not that it was easy when witchy nights tended to make the female population of Hurley somewhat梩witchy. Up until two years ago, when his personal wake-up call had rung like a four-alarm fire, he would have been the go-to man in Hurley for a good lay. Now that he refused? Well, getting him back into the sack had become something of a challenge for some of his more amorous past conquests. On nights like these he抎 taken to locking himself in the tiny back office, only coming out to restock beer or settle disputes.
If Rita actually showed, the local women who抎 been trying to coax him out of the office and his self-imposed celibacy would only see his showing interest in Rita as a challenge to try harder.
You reap what you sow had never rung more true than it did tonight.
If Rita showed. And that was a mighty big if.
Hell, maybe this bone-deep necessity to have Rita see him as something other than Hurley抯 orgasm machine was useless. Maybe he should have just kissed her that afternoon. Hesitation had never been part of his genetic makeup, but her big, wary golden-brown eyes had made any leftover game at his disposal seem like laughable bush-league bullshit. At least if he抎 just let his mouth drop another inch this afternoon he would know how she tasted. Maybe he wouldn抰 have an incessant itch between his shoulder blades from wondering if she might actually leave town without him finding out. The reality was, she would leave town. Probably tomorrow. Which did nothing to decrease this edginess in his bones. A restlessness that made him think not seeing her before her Suburban vanished into the sunset would be a missed opportunity.
Jasper plowed a hand through his hair. 揘ate, grab me a beer, would you??
揧eah, boss.?
Nate dragged a Budweiser out of the ice, popped the top, and slid it down the bar, right into Jasper抯 waiting hand. 揧ou feel the air in here, Nate? It抯 feeling real close, ain抰 it??
揑 don抰 feel anything.?
Jasper made a sound of disgust and drew on his icy-cold beer. 揧eah, I reckon you don抰。？Wondering if he could find a hidden vantage point to watch for an unlikely Rita appearance, Jasper turned and surveyed the bar. Already Eleanor Nesbit was doing that dance. The one where she lifted her arms, closed her eyes real tight, and ground her hips on some imaginary pommel horse. Things like tempo or beat didn抰 matter to Eleanor梥he just kept on keepin?on with that infamous move. Meanwhile, her friend Gina switched it up constantly. Just trying out a new move every four seconds or so, not committing to a single one. They made quite a pair.
揌ey, Jasper Ellis.?Gina said his name the way most people say cherry pie. 揧ou抮e thinking of joining us. I can tell.?
Eleanor sent him a wink, breaking back into the same dance. Jasper had to admire her loyalty to the technique, but that was about as much admiration as he could muster. They were both attractive women, close to his age, and he felt exactly nothing but hollow when they spoke to him in that overdone cherry-pie manner. Beer bottle tipped to his lips, Jasper turned from the dance floor?