Shaken Not Stirred (Mixology #1)(22)
Author: Alyssa Rose Ivy

“A bartender who doesn’t like to drink?”

“Stranger things have happened.” I looked back out at the water.

“Do you like action movies too?”

“That’s a random conversation change.”

“You just don’t seem like most girls I’ve dated. I was wondering if that’s different too.”

“I like romantic comedies.”

“Oh. Not different in every way.”

“I guess not. Although, not all girls love romantic comedies.”

“A lot do.”

“True enough. What about you?”

“What kind of movies do I like?” He leaned his back against the railing. It gave me a nice view of his lean body that fit perfectly in his khakis and Lacoste shirt.

“Yeah.”

“Anything historical. I love war movies. Stuff like that.”

“Oh.”

He laughed. “But I’m more than willing to watch your movies with you.”

“I might be willing to watch yours.”

“Might be?”

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

“Oh, if I’m good?” he teased. Teasing fit him in a weird way. He seemed so serious, but I knew there was more underneath.

I could play along with the teasing. “Good? Were you planning to be bad?”

He laughed. “This is starting to sound a lot dirtier than it actually is.”

“As long as you don’t start asking if I’m a good girl, I think we’re okay.”

He grinned. “Any chance you want to help me make a salad?”

“Nice conversation save.”

“Wasn’t it?” He smiled again, this time it was bigger and brighter. He had nice teeth. I didn’t usually notice that sort of thing, but his were bright white and perfectly straight. Braces must have worked for him. My two rounds left a few of my bottom teeth out of line.

“Bring on the salad.” I followed him back inside and waited as he pulled out a bunch of veggies from his stainless steel fridge.

“Is your schedule pretty set now?” He rinsed off a head of lettuce before doing the same with a tomato.

“I have two weeknights off a week right now. The weekends are the only remotely busy times, so those shifts should last.”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s not bad for a job. I don’t plan to do it forever, but there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing right now.” I got to work cutting a cucumber. “Do you like your job?”

“Yes and no.” He didn’t hesitate with his answer.

“Meaning?”

“I enjoy it to a certain extent, but it’s constant. It’s like if I take a break for a day I’m going to pay for it for weeks.”

“That sucks.” I tried to sound supportive. He wasn’t kidding. He was into his job.

“Kind of. If I get this next promotion I’m up for, it should be better.”

“I hope it works out.”

“Thanks. I have a good feeling about it, but you never know.”

“Yeah. I get that.” I knew what it felt like when things didn’t turn out the way you expected.

We finished the salad, and Colin brought in the steaks. We made plates that also included baked potatoes and took a seat at his long rustic wood table. It seemed slightly out of place with the otherwise modern furnishings.

I took a bite. He made them medium rare. My favorite. “This is delicious.”

“Good, I’m glad you like it.” He smiled, proud of himself.

“I’m glad you asked me out again.”

“Me too. And I’m even more glad you said yes.” He set aside his fork. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”

I sipped my water. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re a hard girl to get out of your head.”

“You’re not that easy to forget either.” I remembered one of the dreams I’d had about him recently and willed myself not to blush.

“Oh? Glad I left an impression.”

I smiled. “You left an impression.”

“So did you.”

“Enough of an impression that you didn’t call…”

“I’m sorry about that. I plan to make it up to you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s a long-term plan, so get ready for it.”

“Oh? It’s the kind of thing I need to prepare for?” I took another bite, hungrier than I’d realized.

“Not prepare for…just wait in expectation.”

I laughed. “I have high expectations.”

We cleared the table together, and I dried while he washed the dishes.

“Thanks for dinner. This was fun.” I waited while he put the last of the dishes into the dishwasher.

“You’re welcome, but you don’t have to leave yet, do you?”

“I don’t know. I was kind of counting on you to drive me home.”

He dried off his hands on a dish towel. “I plan on driving you home. The question is whether you have time for a movie first.”

“That depends on the movie.”

“I figured we’d order one.”

“Wow, big spender.” We could barely pay the cable bill.

He reached over and took my hand. “We could go out to a movie instead, but I have a nice setup here.”

“Wait. Do you have a home theater?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. We’re staying in.” I was a bit of a home theater enthusiast. I blame my cousin Tim for this particular interest. He owned a theater installation company, and he was my favorite cousin. I admit to spending more than a few Saturdays leaning about subwoofers and impedance.

He led me down a hallway and a flight of stairs. He pushed open the door to a room with a giant screen and nine extra comfy-looking seats.

“Wow. This is nice.”

“I’ve never used it. I double-checked that everything worked right before you got here.”

“You’ve never used it? How long have you lived here?”

“A year now.”

I finished surveying the room. Framed movie posters from the sixties lined the walls. “You really do work too much.”

“To be fair, I’ve watched movies on the TV upstairs. This room is excessive if it’s just me.”

My eyes zeroed in on an old Dr. No poster. My dad had gotten me into the classic Bond movies when I was a kid, and admittedly, Sean Connery was hot when he was younger. “Well, I’m glad I can be part of your inaugural use.”