She ended the message by rattling off her number. I searched for a pen, but the interior of my Jeep was clean of clutter for once. I thought about going inside and calling her back, but then flicked the engine back on, and with ease, pulled down the driveway.
I saw Gemma before she saw me. She was sitting at a table near the bar, nursing a dark beer in a tall glass. I hesitated in the doorway. God, she was beautiful. She was so…free. I’d observed hundreds of women in bars. Most of the time they were busy pulling up—or down—the top of their dress. Fluffing their hair. Pretending to check their phone while scoping out who was watching them. Talking with their friends loud enough that anyone around them could hear how amazing their life was.
Gemma wasn’t like any of those girls. She had quiet confidence. A comfort.
She sipped her beer and casually watched the game up on the big screen TV above the bar. She didn’t look around and wonder who was watching her or who she should go talk to. She didn’t mess with her clothes, hair, or makeup. She didn’t thrust her tits out when guys walked by.
“Hey, Aaron,” Sonya, one of the regular bartenders, spotted me and blew my cover as she flagged me down from the other end of the bar.
Gemma turned at the sound of my name and a smile lit up her face. She waved me over and I flicked a glance over to see Sonya’s face fall as she realized I wasn’t flying solo. “You got my message?”
“Yeah.” I sank into the chair opposite her. “Thanks for the invite. I was having a rough afternoon.”
She arched a brow. “What’s up?”
I held up my casted hand. “Let’s just say it’s hard to do anything mechanical with this thing on me.”
“Ah,” Gemma nodded. “Sorry. It’s only for a few more weeks.”
“Yeah, well, as you’ve probably picked up on, I’m a little stubborn. I spent three hours trying to make it work.”
Gemma smiled. “You? Stubborn? Nah.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I chuckled. “What about you? Little early for a drink, huh?”
“Hey, it’s five o’clock somewhere,” she said, not missing a beat.
In reality, it was barely creeping toward three o’clock, but hey, who was I to judge.
“In that case,” I said, smiling as I signaled to Sonya. She knew my regular drink and hustled to bring it to me, flashing me her best smile as she placed a napkin down, casually brushing her arm against mine, before setting down the ice cold bottle of my favorite brew. A pale ale.
“This is a cool place,” Gemma said, completely unruffled by Sonya’s special attention.
“Cheers to…well…whatever day it is. I’ve kinda lost track.”
She laughed and lifted her glass to mine. “Thursday.”
“Right.” We sipped our drinks.
“If I was a good doctor, I’d lecture you about mixing alcohol with your pain meds, but I’m pretty sure you got that speech already and are choosing to ignore it.”
I chuckled and nodded. “Good thing you’re here to save me if I hit the deck, huh?”
Gemma rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything else about the drink in my hand. I’d had a couple of beers the night before while out with Jack and Holly and hadn’t felt any adverse reaction. I figured it was safe.
“How many days off do you have?”
“I work three on, four off. Twelve-hour shifts.”
“So, you have one more day off?” I quickly did the math in my head from the last day I’d seen her at the hospital.
“Yeah.”
“So you never get the weekend off?”
“Not usually. I mean, I can request it off if I have plans, but weekends in the ER are usually the busiest.”
“Aha.” I nodded and took another sip. “Makes sense. Sucks for you though.”
“Not really. This way I get all the best stuff to myself while everyone else is at work. The beaches are quieter, the restaurants less crowded, and I can drink at three in the afternoon and no one cares,” she said with a grin.
“Fair enough.”
“You strike me as a work horse too. That museum of yours is impressive. I did a little Googling.”
I set my beer down. “Well, it was.”
“What do you mean?” She set her glass aside too and pushed her hair behind her ear as she leaned in for the answer.
I looked at her for a second, wondering how much of my drama I should drag her into. So far, she hadn’t shirked away from anything I’d told her. She’d seen me at my worst and hadn’t even blinked. I hadn’t known her for all that long, but something in my gut told me I could trust her.
“It’s kind of a long story,” I said, figuring I could decide what to tell her based on her reply.
She shrugged and sat back in her seat. “Hey, I just told you I got all day.”