Page 42 of Unhitched

Meanwhile, I’ve completely forgotten my craving for a burger in favor of watching Kace tie his shoes.

What has gotten into me? I blame the candy cane scene I read in my book earlier.

Do I have the urge to mix candy and sex?

Not particularly. But everything about the way the guy took care of his girl has left me turned on for the past four hours.

That’s it. That has to be. It’s not just Kace. It’s my book. But I didn’t feel that way about the guy who kissed me earlier.

“Ready?” Kace’s furrowing brows come into focus. How long was I zoning out?

“Uh huh.” I open the door, and he follows me out.

We walk down the hallway and the three flights of stairs to the door leading outside. It’s a short walk to the lodge bar, but now that the sun has set, it’s freezing.

“Brr! It’s cold out here.” I wrap my arms around my waist .

“Should I keep my eye out for Toros?” Kace asks next to me, completely deadpan.

I stop in my tracks and laugh. “What?”

He shrugs. “You said referencing movies is the way to your heart.”

Way to my heart. He could have said ‘the way to make things up to you,’ or I don’t know. Anything else. I’m so confused right now. “I guess you have me all figured out.”

“Not yet.” The tone in his voice makes me think he wants to know more. What are these mixed signals he’s sending me?

He opens the door to the bar for me, and I survey the room.

Every booth is full. The couches too. There’s two seats in the middle of the bar though, so I lead us there.

We each take a seat on a barstool in front of the beer taps.

The busy bartender slides a menu onto the bar and lets us know she’ll be right back.

I glance at the menu to make sure the burger I want is still there, then wait patiently with my hands trapped between my thighs as Kace looks over the options.

When he leans back, I’m about to ask him what he’s having, but the waitress returns.

“What can I get for you two?”

Kace nods toward me.

“I’ll have the house burger,” I say. “No tomatoes. And a side salad with vinaigrette please.”

She looks at Kace. “And for you?”

“Same. I’ll keep the tomatoes though. Thank you.”

“Olive theory,” I mumble before I registered what I’m saying.

Kace’s gaze snaps to mine. “Huh?” he asks, but as soon as the word slips from his mouth, recognition hits, and my face heats in embarrassment. His brow quirks for only a moment before he smirks and gives a sly shake of his head as the waitress takes the menus from us.

“And to drink?” she asks, completely oblivious to the fact that I insinuated that Kace could complete me.

He scans the row of beer taps in front of us. “I’ll have the Elk Frost please.”

Both of their gazes turn to me. “What would you like?”

I take a breath, willing this stupid crush to go away. I’ve never been much into beer, but if Kace likes it so much, maybe I should try it. I face him. “Can you pick one for me?”

“A beer?” he clarifies, and I nod. “Are there any you’ve liked?”

“I haven’t tried many.”

He scans the line of taps again. “She’ll try the pilsner.”

The waitress nods and moves to pour both of our beers.

“Beer words are a foreign language to me.”

“You’d learn if you liked it. I’m sure all your craft words wouldn’t make sense to me.”

“Good point. So what’s a pilsner?” I ask, forcing myself to focus on his response and not the way his tattoos start at his wrists and disappear under where his Henley is pushed up his forearms.

“Do you want the science of it or…”

I grin, appreciating that he knows I don’t care about that at all. “Just the basics.”

“Well, then all you need to know is a pilsner is a lager. There’s two main types of beers. Ales and lagers–the biggest difference is the type of yeast and the temperature they’re brewed at.”

I scrunch my brows. This is already a lot of information.

He chuckles. “A pilsner is a type of lager. Think light. Baseball game beers. The Pacific Northwest is known for its IPAs–Indian Pale Ales, but a higher percentage of people drink lagers.” He pauses. “You don’t care about any of this do you?”

I shake my head, my grin widening. “No, but I like how much you care about it.”

His tongue runs across his lip, and then he smirks. I steal an extra second of staring as he reaches for the beers the waitress holds out. He hands the lighter colored one to me. “ Without anything to go on, I’m taking a guess here. This is one of the most popular lagers.”

I hold the glass in front of my face, peering through the liquid to see a distorted Kace on the other side.

Pulling it to my lips, I take a sip, feeling Kace’s eyes on me.

The cold beer hits my tastebuds, and I immediately swallow, not wanting it to sit in my mouth.

I shake my head, setting the cup on the bar. “Nope. This tastes like college.”

He chuckles. “Did you go to college?”

I shake my head. “No, but I imagine this is what it tastes like.”

His smile is amused. “It’s okay. I’ll drink it.”

“But you already have a drink.”

“A strong one too,” he says. “Usually it only takes two of these to get people drunk.”

My eyes widen.

“The locals call it ‘getting frosted.’”

“I love that. It’s like How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. ”

His brows scrunch.

“Never mind. I can drink that. I don’t want you to have to drink two.”

“I’ll be okay. Get something you like.” He nods to the bartender when she looks our way.

Appearing in front of us, she folds a cleaning towel and sets it on the bartop. “What’s up?”

“Could we get a different drink over here?”

“Of course.” She reaches for my glass.

“No, it’s okay,” Kace tells her. “I’ll pay for this one.” He turns to me. “What would you like?”

I glance from Kace to the bartender. “Something fruity please.”

“Coming right up.” She winks.

I twist in my seat to face Kace. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He leans against the back of his seat and pulls his beer to his lips. I track the movement, caught when he eyes me over the rim of his glass. But he doesn’t say anything. He just takes a long sip of the amber liquid, keeping his eyes on me.

“Here you go.” The bartender’s voice pulls my attention to the orange drink with a purple crazy straw.

My eyes light up. “Thank you.” I take the glass from her hand, and she walks away, leaving Kace and I alone. Well, alone with the hundred other people in here. But all I see is him. And this pretty drink.

I take a sip, letting the sweet liquid sit on my tongue before swallowing. Mmmm. This is more like it.

“Are you more happy about the drink or the straw?” Kace asks, amused.

I take one more sip before setting the glass on the bar. “Both.”

“You’re easy to please.”

“Rule number thirty-two.”

He grins, and knowing he gets the reference is a little thing I definitely enjoy.