Taking a Shot - Page 4/37

“I could set you up with someone,” Liz said to Maggie. “I know a lot of sports figures.”

Maggie batted her lashes at Liz. “Really?”

“Really.”

“You would turn my wedding into a PR fest for one of your clients?” Tara said with a mock gasp.

“In a heartbeat, sister.”

Jenna laughed.

“Hey, do whatever you want, but find me a hunky date,” Maggie said. “I’m all in.”

“Done,” Liz said.

“And speaking of dates,” Tara said, “what about Jenna’s?”

Damn. She could have sworn they’d gone off topic and this would be forgotten.

“You don’t know anything about his family?” Tara asked. “Mom won’t like that. Neither will Mick and Gavin.”

Web of lies. This is what happened when she made up boyfriends. “I don’t know if we’ll be seeing each other again. So Mom and Dad have nothing to worry about.”

“No chemistry?” Maggie offered.

“Yeah. No chemistry.” She was glad for the excuse and the out. She could kiss Maggie right now.

“Well, honey, you’re gorgeous. And sexy. I’m sure if this one doesn’t work out, there are likely ten guys waiting in line to go out with you.”

She met Tara’s confident expression and smiled at her.

She was going to have to dig up a real person to date. And by God, she would bring him to the damn wedding. One, to get her family off her back, and two, to make herself stop thinking about Ty.

For all she knew Ty might bring a date of his own. She hoped he would. That would end any residual attraction she felt for him.

After the fittings the four of them went out for dinner, fortunately not at her family’s bar.

It was nice to have a night off and actually go out. Usually on her nights off she stayed home, caught up on sleep, or watched television. And she always played music and worked on writing songs. Tonight it was good to get away.

She isolated herself too much. She knew it, realized she should get out more, but she much preferred her apartment and her music.

She didn’t really like people all that much, anyway.

Yeah, she was girlfriend material, all right.

“How about that guy?” Liz asked as they settled at a table and ordered a round of drinks.

It took Jenna a few seconds to realize Liz was talking to her. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“That guy. The one at the bar who’s looking at you.”

She followed Liz’s head motion to a suit type leaning against the bar with a drink in hand. Outstanding in the looks department, with sandy blond hair, straight teeth, and a smile that looked like it had been bleached at the dentist’s office.

“Likely dating twenty girls at once and can’t keep their names straight. No thanks.”

“And how do you know this?” Liz asked.

“Bourbon, straight up.”

Tara frowned. “What does that mean?”

“I can tell a lot about a guy by what he drinks.”

“Occupational hazard?” Liz asked.

“Or a plus, depending on how you look at it. Between the way they scan a room, how they dress, and what they drink, I’ve got them pegged before they ever say a word.”

Liz scooted her chair closer to Jenna’s. “Oh, this could be fun. Hot stuff in jeans and black T-shirt, far left side of the bar.”

Jenna took a look. “Cheating on his wife.”

“Nuh-uh,” Maggie said. “How do you know?”

“Too easy. Wedding ring mark on his left hand. And a fresh one at that. You can still see the ridges on his finger.”

“What an asshole.” Tara sipped her drink, then looked at Jenna. “You’re good at this. I would never have noticed that.”

“Most women don’t, not on initial glance, anyway. They’re not all assholes. But a lot of them aren’t worth a second look, especially at a bar.”

“Because they go there to pick up women?” Liz asked.

“And to get laid.”

Tara shook her head. “So cynical. No wonder you don’t date much.”

“Unless I’m in the mood for sex, I don’t really see the point. None of those guys are my type. And a bar isn’t a place to meet men.”

“Oh, come on.” Liz scanned the bar. “There are some serious hotties in here.”

Training her gaze into laser-point precision, she pointed it at the male traffic. “Unemployed. Gay. Mama’s boy. Bully. Wimp.” She turned to them. “Should I go on?”

Tara shook her head. “I think you might be just a wee bit too picky. Are you certain your system is as flawless as you’d like to believe?”

“I’ll prove it to you.” She smiled at the corporate type they’d singled out for her at the beginning. He graced her with his thousand-watt smile, pushed off the bar, and headed over to them, pulling up a chair and sliding into it.

“Hello, ladies. Enjoying your evening?”

Jenna took the lead. “So far.”

“Can I buy you all a drink?”

“Sure.” Jenna told them what they were having. Without even turning around, he raised his hand and snapped his fingers for the cocktail waitress. Jenna gritted her teeth.

They all introduced themselves. His name was Craig. He was in hardware technology sales.

“Do you travel?” she asked.

His lips curved. “Quite a bit, as a matter of fact. I’m on the road a lot.”

“You must enjoy it.”

“It’s an adventure. And what about you, Jenna?”

“I’m a bartender.”

He held up his drink and tipped it to her. “Nice. I like drinks.”

She’d just bet he did.

“And what about the rest of you gorgeous women? What do you do?”

Number one sin. When you’re hitting on one woman, you don’t also hit up her friends. You ignore them. Craig was hedging his bet, just in case Jenna wasn’t the one he decided he wanted to go home with tonight.

“Engaged,” Liz said.

“Getting married in a week,” Tara said.

“Dating someone,” Maggie lied.

Smart Maggie.

Craig scooted his chair closer to Jenna’s. Ugh.

“So you’re a bartender, huh?”

“I am.”

That was the last thing he’d mentioned about her. After that she endured a half hour dissertation all about himself, his career, his aspirations, and how he’d risen to the top of his company’s food chain in three short years, including the big quarterly bonus that allowed him to buy his new condo he was certain she’d want to come over tonight and see. She tried to avoid yawning.

She threw some serious “help me” signals at Tara, Liz, and Maggie, who stood.

“Well, Craig, this has been fun,” Liz said, “but it’s girls’ night out and we need to go.”

He stood, too, turning to Jenna. “Wait. You’re leaving? With them?”

She wouldn’t laugh at the shock on his face. Really, she wouldn’t. Craig must not get turned down too often. “Afraid so. Nice meeting you. Good luck with the job.”

The slap of frigid air as they stepped outside never felt better.

“Wow. You were so right,” Tara said.

“No wonder I never dated much.” Liz shuddered. “Are all single guys like that?”

“Not all of them. But a lot of the ones I meet are.”

Which meant she was going to have a difficult time finding a date for the wedding.

FIVE

FINDING A MAN COULDN’T BE THAT HARD. JENNA worked around a sea of them. Men came through the doors of the bar often enough it was like catalog shopping. All she had to do was pick one.

Easy, right? Great-looking guys poured into the bar every night. Men with charming smiles who made good conversation. All she had to do was scope them out, talk to a few of them, and then ask one out and hope he said yes.

She was hit on all the time, but usually blew them off with a smile and a gentle no.

This time, she didn’t intend to say no.

She’d gotten busy after happy hour and stayed that way. No hockey game tonight, but there was a basketball game on. Anything that would bring people in to watch a game was good for business. And that meant men would come in.

She laughed. Never before had she been interested in men coming in. She cared about customers coming in, not what sex they were. Tonight she eagle-eyed every guy who walked through the doors, sizing them up as potential dates.

When a gorgeous man with a body to die for pulled up a seat at the bar, her radar started pinging. He wore crisp dark jeans and a button-down shirt, which he covered with a dark jacket.

Medium brown hair, cut short, and killer green eyes, with an engaging smile to perfect the look. She took a deep breath, a quick glance at the back bar mirror to make sure she looked okay, and went to take his order.

“What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have a glass of Chardonnay.”

Crap. “Sure.”

A wine drinker. Fussy and anal retentive. How could she not have noticed that his jeans had that crease down the center? He probably dry cleaned them.

It would never work.

One down, many more to go, she busied herself serving some of her regulars and scoping out a few more potential single candidates, when another new guy walked in.

Dark blond hair, leather jacket, relaxed jeans and boots, motorcycle helmet in his hand. Must be tough to be riding in February, because it was damn cold outside. His goatee and lazy grin were sexy as hell. He caught sight of her right away and headed in her direction.

She liked that.

“What can I get for you?”

He leaned against the bar. “I’ll have a Chivas on the rocks.”

Dammit. “Sure.”

She’d been so hoping he was a beer guy. Instead, she’d gotten a rich boy playing biker. And he’d had so much potential. He probably rode a Ducati Superbike.

She refused to give up hope and went back to serving her customers and filling orders.

“Busy night.”

Shivers skittered down her spine at the dark, sexy tone of the man’s voice. She closed her eyes for a second and let the sound of Ty’s voice fill her senses.

She really didn’t need this tonight. Not when she was man shopping.

She turned around. “Why are you here?”

“Uh, to play pool?”

She looked to the left, and sure enough, two of the other members of the Ice hockey team were already setting up at one of the pool tables.

So maybe he wasn’t here to see her after all. Maybe Tyler and his friends liked the atmosphere and pool tables at Riley’s.

And now she felt like an ass. An egotistical one. “What can I get for you?”

“Three beers. One light, two regular. Bottled.”

She grabbed the bottles and slid them across the bar. “Want to start a tab?”

“That’d be great, Jenna. Thanks.”

Mortified, she rang up the tab and decided she was going to ignore Ty the remainder of the night. She signaled Amber to work his table and to keep him and his friends in drinks so he wouldn’t feel the need to wander over to the bar.

Then maybe she could get back to finding herself a date.

The rush slowed for the next couple hours, so she had time to survey the crowd.

Maybe she was being too picky. Damn her liquor as predictor theory. This was why she didn’t date much. It was an accurate theory and weeded out the losers.

“Can I get a beer?”

She looked up and saw her savior in front of her. Nice looking, dark hair, a little long, just the way she liked it. He had on a tight-fitting shirt and worn jeans, a day’s worth of stubble on his jaw, and spectacularly sexy brown eyes.

Yum.

“Bottle or draft?”

“Draft. Regular.”

Bingo. A beer drinker.

She poured his beer into a mug and he paid her in cash. No fancy credit card. So far, so good. He walked away and she watched to see if he met up with a girlfriend. He didn’t. He also wasn’t watching sports. He sat at the other end of the bar with a group of friends—all guys—talking.

Okay, this dude worked for her. Which didn’t mean anything. He could still have a girlfriend or even a wife, and this could be guys’ night out.

She gave him his space, waited on her customers, washed glasses, and when the time was right, moseyed down the bar.

“Ready for refills?”

He graced her with a thousand-watt smile, one that showed interest.

“Sure.” He looked at his friends. “You guys ready?”

“I have an early call tomorrow, so I’m headed out,” one of them said.

“Me, too. You’re on your own, Joe.”

“See you, guys.”

His friends grabbed their coats and left. He stood and followed her to the bar.

“Still want that beer?” she asked, figuring he’d take off now that his friends had.

Instead, he nodded. “Yeah. I’ll take one more before I head out. It’s been a long day.”

“Coming right up.” She filled his mug and handed it to him.

He paid her and tipped her well. She liked that part, too.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He took a long swallow, but held her gaze. “This is my first time in here. Nice bar.”

“Thank you.”

His brows lifted. “Yours?”

“My family’s, but right now I’m running it.”

“Big operation for someone so young.”