Tara laughed. “That’s what I just told you.”
The initial nonchalance in Amanda’s gaze dissipated as she assessed Jackson through a new, unfiltered perspective—slowly and appreciatively. “Jesus, and I thought Clay was hot,” she murmured flirtatiously.
He didn’t miss the subtle come-on in her words, but he wasn’t the least bit tempted. Now, if it had been Tara issuing the invitation, he would have seriously considered his options.
As if sensing the suddenly awkward vibe in the air, Tara stepped in front of Amanda and changed the subject. “Why don’t you take a seat at the far end of the bar while you wait for the guys to get here?” she suggested to him.
“Where I’ll be less distracting?” he asked with a half grin as he walked in that direction, away from the main traffic area and the other employees arriving for their shifts.
She gave him a sassy little smirk. “Yeah, that, too.”
He slid onto the last cushioned stool at the bar, and she followed him from the other side of the counter. The lighting at this end was more muted, which made it feel more private. At least for now.
She set a cocktail napkin in front of him. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
He glanced at the selection of premium liquor on the top shelf behind the bar and was surprised that he found the high-end brand he was searching for. “I’ll take the Bushmills 21 neat.”
She tipped her head inquisitively, bringing his attention once again to the small, sexy diamond stud winking at him from her upper lip. “We don’t get many requests for the Bushmills, considering most of our clientele in this area tend to order the cheap and dirty drinks, but I should have guessed a sophisticated guy like you would go right for the most expensive brand of liquor we’ve got in the place.”
Standing on the tips of her toes, she reached up to grab the distinctive bottle of alcohol, and his gaze automatically gravitated to the enticing swells of her ass once again. Fuck, she was hot. He lingered longer than he’d intended on what was quickly becoming his favorite view, and when she turned back around, he knew he’d been caught in the act. And he was now looking at that sweet spot at the juncture of her slender thighs—an equally captivating sight that had his body humming with heated awareness.
There was no denying what he’d been staring at, and without an ounce of remorse, he lifted his eyes back up to hers. Yep, he’d been busted, but the glimpse of amusement he saw dancing in those stunning blue irises and the arousing-as-hell flush on her cheeks told him that she hadn’t been the least bit offended by his perusal of her ass.
No, she certainly wasn’t shying away from the attraction simmering between them, nor was she playing hard to get like other women he’d dated—female games that bored him or made him suspicious of their motives. He liked flirting with Tara. Liked that there were no contrived pretenses in their interactions, and he in turn could just be himself, as well.
“If you don’t sell a lot of this particular brand, why carry it?” he asked casually as she poured his drink with a quick, deft hand. From a business perspective, it seemed like a waste of space and money to him.
“Because every so often, Clay or Mason will indulge in their favorite whiskey, and that would be the Bushmills 21.” She placed the lowball glass filled with the amber liquid on the napkin in front of him. “That’s the only reason it’s on the shelf. Just goes to show that you really are Clay’s twin.”
He chuckled lightly. “Just in case my looks didn’t convince you?”
That sweet, addictive laugh escaped her lips once again. “You’re the spitting image of your brother, but I’m pretty sure the two of you couldn’t be more different in most other ways.”
“Such as?” he wanted to know.
“Well, for one thing, the only time I’ve ever seen Clay in a suit was when he got married, and you look like you wear one on a daily basis.” Her gaze took in his facial features, then his hair. “I’m guessing you live in the city and have some kind of corporate career, while Clay hates downtown Chicago and is definitely not the kind of guy to work a nine-to-five shift. I’m guessing your general lifestyles are pretty opposite.”
He didn’t get the impression that she was judging him in any way, and quite honestly, her speculation about him was pretty spot on based on his outer appearance. But Jackson hadn’t grown up in the lap of luxury as she probably assumed, nor had there been any emotional support that might have helped guide him toward the kind of future most parents would want for their kid.
Far from it. Jackson had been motivated to build a successful life for himself based on his anger and resentment toward the man he’d believed was his father but who had never treated him like a son. He’d grown up feeling worthless and insignificant compared to his younger brother, and not knowing the why of his father’s actions had spawned all sorts of insecurities. Doubting himself, and feeling like he didn’t belong no matter how hard he tried to please his father, had been the most painful.
Once he’d turned eighteen and left home, Jackson had achieved every single goal he’d set for himself—starting with college and the school loans he’d paid for himself over the years, through an internship at a prestigious architectural firm, to finally being hired on in a full-time position with Schmidt and Kramer and becoming partner, to making a respectable six-figure salary, with impressive quarterly bonuses. He’d invested his money well and had a solid seven figures to his name.
From anyone on the outside looking in, it appeared that he’d built a fucking fantastic life for himself, and he had. But everything he’d accomplished and obtained had never filled that empty hole inside of him. His marriage certainly hadn’t lived up to his expectations of what he thought would bring him ultimate happiness. He wondered if anything ever would.
Tara had gone back to prepping the bar while he’d been lost in his thoughts, and he sipped his whiskey as he watched her move with purpose as she stocked glasses, replaced liquor bottles, and organized things to her liking. Other staff members were milling about, some of whom were blatantly staring at him with shock as they glanced his way. Obviously, Amanda, the other bar waitress, had let staff members in on the fact that Clay had a twin, and they wanted to see him for themselves.
After a short while, Tara came back to his end of the bar to check on him. “You doing okay down here? Would you like another drink?”
He swirled the last bit of liquor in his glass and shook his head. “No, I’m good. Thanks.” The one drink had been just enough to somewhat relax him, though he was still a bit anxious about meeting his siblings. He didn’t think there was anything, legal anyway, that would quell that particular nervous anticipation thrumming through him.
Trying to tamp down his restlessness, he glanced at his watch. Twenty minutes had passed since she’d made the phone call to Clay. The place was still empty of customers since it was ten minutes until opening time. Tara didn’t move away. Instead she started pushing bottles of beer into the ice bin on the other side of the counter where he was sitting, and he decided to take advantage of any knowledge she might want to share about the Kincaid brothers.
“So, what are the three of them like?” he asked before he changed his mind about prying. He wasn’t asking for deep, personal secrets. He just wanted to know a bit about their personalities before he met them to put him more at ease. Yeah, he knew it was an unfair advantage to learn about his siblings before they even knew he existed, but it was three against one in the upcoming introduction, and he needed all the leverage he could get.
Tara glanced up at him, her eyes filled with emphatic kindness, as if she understood his concern about meeting the men he knew absolutely nothing about. “Well, the three of them are tight, and life for them hasn’t always been easy,” she said as she wiped her damp hands on a white terry towel. “In fact, they’ve gone through a lot of shit together since they were kids, so don’t be too disappointed and don’t take it personally if they’re a bit distrusting when they first meet you.”
He nodded. “I figured as much.” Despite them sharing a birth mother, Jackson was still a stranger, after all. He wasn’t expecting them to welcome him with open arms, but he hoped they would at least give him a chance to get to know the three of them better.