Rock Bottom (Dawson Family 6)

“Cold?” Dean asks, reaching out and running his hand slowly up my forearm, feeling the goosebumps that break out along my flesh. Oh my goodness, his touch is warm and his palms are rough, and it’s been so long since I’ve been touched like this.

Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever been touched like this.

Gentle yet deliberate. Friendly, yet promising what’s to come.

“If I had a jacket, I’d give it to you, but I left mine in the car.”

“Me too,” I say, voice all breathy. I suck down the rest of my wine and set the empty glass on the bar top and adjust the wrap of my Coach wristlet on my arm. The bartender comes over to get my empty glass, and I unzip the wristlet to get out cash to pay for my drink.

“I got it,” Dean says and tells the bartender to put it on his tab.

“Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Do you want another?” he asks.

“I’d rather have a side of cheese fries,” I admit. “I didn’t have dinner.”

“I didn’t either. Well, I just had pie.”

“Ohhh, now pie sounds good. Do they have pie here?”

Dean shakes his head. “No, and if you want to get pie, you need to go to the bakery on Main Street. My sister-in-law owns it.”

“Must be nice to have family members who own a bar and a bakery.” I inch a little closer. “My brother owns his own vet clinic. I get a family discount on wormer.”

Dean laughs, and it rumbles right through me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a laugh I can describe as sexy before, but everything about this man is turning me on.

“It is nice getting free food and drinks.”

“I bet. Though I’d probably weigh five hundred pounds after a month of all that free food.”

Dean grabs a menu and hands it to me. “The house pretzel with cheese is better than the fries.”

“That does sound good. It’s not too late to order food?”

He shakes his head. “The kitchen is open until ten.”

“Good. I feel bad when it’s way too close to closing time.”

“That’s very considerate of you.”

“I worked in retail in college.” I give the menu one more glance and decide on the soft pretzel and cheese. “It was irritating when people came in right before closing.”

“I try not to go anywhere if it’s within fifteen minutes of closing. Unless it’s my sister-in-law’s bakery. Then I’ll go in a minute before and order whatever takes the longest to make.”

I laugh and meet his eyes, feeling another rush of heat go through me.

“I’m kidding,” he says. “And she’d probably tell me to get the fuck out anyway.”

“Oh, I would too.”

“So…where did you go to college?”

Shit. I have no idea of the names of any Canadian colleges. “The, uh, Central University of…of…” Canada is divided into territories, right? “…of the Northern Territory.”

“Never heard of it,” he says right as I realize my so-called college would be abbreviated to CUNT.

Oh my fucking gosh. If I were to drop dead right now, the universe would probably be doing me a favor.

“It’s a small school. Private too. And girls only.” Just pick up the shovel, Rory, you’re doing a good job digging yourself a hole to crawl in. “Do you come here often?” I blurt, needing to change the subject.

“If I say yes it makes me sound pathetic, but since my brothers own the place, we all come here to hang out.”

I smile. “It’s nice you like being with your brothers.”

“They can be assholes, but for the most part, they’re good guys,” he laughs. “And the free food and drinks don’t hurt.”

I feel my phone vibrating with a text. “Excuse me,” I say as I dig it out of my little purse. It’s Lennon, reminding me not to leave my drink on the bar when I turn away.

“That wouldn’t be your boyfriend, would it?” Dean asks, doing a good job of looking not too interested as he makes sure I’m single.

“No, it’s my cousin.” I quickly reply that I’m always careful and put my phone back done. “And I’m guessing you don’t have one either?”

“A boyfriend?” Dean gives me a smartass smirk. “Not at the moment.” He finishes his drink and moves his stool a little closer when a new song comes on, base loudly thumping around us.

The pretzel and cheese comes already, making me think the bartender pulled a favor for Dean to get the food here so quickly. It’s huge, practically spilling off the plate.

“Want some?” I ask, sliding the plate in between us. “There’s no way I’ll be able to eat this all.”

“I suppose I can help you out.”

“And they say chivalry is dead,” I laugh and break off a piece of the pretzel. We eat a few bites in silence, and when the bartender walks back, Dean orders a refill of both our drinks, along with waters.