my best dagger glare.
“A book,” I answered, turning my attention back down, hoping he’d get the message I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to read, obviously, or I wouldn’t be doing just that … on an e-reader … that has books.
“Is it good?”
“It would be, if I could actually read it.” This time my words came out incredibly sarcastic with a hint of ire to them that I couldn’t have hidden even if I wanted to. Yes, he was yummy and normally I would be all over him like a bee to honey, but not today. I was irked, I wanted to get on my flight, and I wanted to get the hell out of Georgia. The last thing I wanted was a man who was sex-on-a-stick to keep me here. I had plans!
“I wouldn’t have any idea why that’s a problem; it’s awfully quiet in here, especially for a bar. Not something I’m used to, actually,” he remarked, his voice smooth and even, completely void of any acknowledgement to my snark.
Setting my reader on the bar, I clutched my drink tightly and took a sip, praying for patience and the strength to deal with this man. He was probably the type, he looked it at least, who rarely got shot down in a bar, quiet or otherwise. First time for everything - kinda sad, really, because if I’d met him in New York a week from now I’d probably have entertained the idea of a date or something. Or white-hot sex in the apartment, you know, all the good stuff. But now just wasn’t the time.
“Look, Mister Good-Looking,” I scolded him, finger pointing and all, his eyes following it. “Just like Peter, Paul and Mary sang: ‘I’m leavin’ on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again.’ Since my flight is delayed, I was looking for a little peace from the reoccurring noise of the loudspeaker so I could read and drink some booze. Instead, here you are, interrupting the hot times I’m reading.” I stopped for a moment, deciding to get off the path of what I was reading quickly – he didn’t need to know. “Why are you here, for that matter? I’m not a blonde pinup girl looking for a man who can buy her drinks … I can buy my own.”
“Well, wow. Here I thought you were a pretty woman alone in a bar. I, too, am waiting on a flight – we are, after all, in an a irport, you know. Most people here are doing the same thing. As for your drinks, good for you, I didn’t offer. I merely thought two was better than one.”
“Now you sound like a Spice Girls song,” I mumbled grumpily. Okay, maybe he hadn’t offered me a drink … and I quashed the feeling that I wished he had. Stop it, stop it, stop it.
“What was that?” he asked, eyes narrowing at me. I’m pretty sure he heard me, but with that look trained on me? No way was I going to repeat myself. See? Told you I’m smart, most of the time, anyway.
I was saved by the loudspeaker informing us all that despite the previously repeated message, flight fourteen-sixty-two would be boarding in fifteen minutes. Glancing down at my watch I was pleasantly surprised to find that though we were still delayed from my original arrival time in New York, we were going to be an hour ahead of the later schedule. I danced a little on the inside. Finally.
“Never mind,” I told him, climbing from my chair and throwing a ten on the bar to pay my tab. I hollered at the bartender to keep the change as a tip, scooped my bags up from the floor, and sashayed my way out door, hoping that the hottie was watching me go. Realizing I’d left my Kindle on the bar, I turned, finding the man holding it and glancing at the screen. I blushed a little, snatched it from his hands, and once again strolled toward the gate for my plane. Allowing myself one look back, I found his eyes on me and I warmed. Too bad I’d had to go back in - I’d killed the first perfect exit.
When I’d bought my ticket, I’d purchased a first class ticket, mainly because all the other window seats were taken, which was a must for me and flying. I just couldn’t
“A book,” I answered, turning my attention back down, hoping he’d get the message I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to read, obviously, or I wouldn’t be doing just that … on an e-reader … that has books.
“Is it good?”
“It would be, if I could actually read it.” This time my words came out incredibly sarcastic with a hint of ire to them that I couldn’t have hidden even if I wanted to. Yes, he was yummy and normally I would be all over him like a bee to honey, but not today. I was irked, I wanted to get on my flight, and I wanted to get the hell out of Georgia. The last thing I wanted was a man who was sex-on-a-stick to keep me here. I had plans!
“I wouldn’t have any idea why that’s a problem; it’s awfully quiet in here, especially for a bar. Not something I’m used to, actually,” he remarked, his voice smooth and even, completely void of any acknowledgement to my snark.
Setting my reader on the bar, I clutched my drink tightly and took a sip, praying for patience and the strength to deal with this man. He was probably the type, he looked it at least, who rarely got shot down in a bar, quiet or otherwise. First time for everything - kinda sad, really, because if I’d met him in New York a week from now I’d probably have entertained the idea of a date or something. Or white-hot sex in the apartment, you know, all the good stuff. But now just wasn’t the time.
“Look, Mister Good-Looking,” I scolded him, finger pointing and all, his eyes following it. “Just like Peter, Paul and Mary sang: ‘I’m leavin’ on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again.’ Since my flight is delayed, I was looking for a little peace from the reoccurring noise of the loudspeaker so I could read and drink some booze. Instead, here you are, interrupting the hot times I’m reading.” I stopped for a moment, deciding to get off the path of what I was reading quickly – he didn’t need to know. “Why are you here, for that matter? I’m not a blonde pinup girl looking for a man who can buy her drinks … I can buy my own.”
“Well, wow. Here I thought you were a pretty woman alone in a bar. I, too, am waiting on a flight – we are, after all, in an a irport, you know. Most people here are doing the same thing. As for your drinks, good for you, I didn’t offer. I merely thought two was better than one.”
“Now you sound like a Spice Girls song,” I mumbled grumpily. Okay, maybe he hadn’t offered me a drink … and I quashed the feeling that I wished he had. Stop it, stop it, stop it.
“What was that?” he asked, eyes narrowing at me. I’m pretty sure he heard me, but with that look trained on me? No way was I going to repeat myself. See? Told you I’m smart, most of the time, anyway.
I was saved by the loudspeaker informing us all that despite the previously repeated message, flight fourteen-sixty-two would be boarding in fifteen minutes. Glancing down at my watch I was pleasantly surprised to find that though we were still delayed from my original arrival time in New York, we were going to be an hour ahead of the later schedule. I danced a little on the inside. Finally.
“Never mind,” I told him, climbing from my chair and throwing a ten on the bar to pay my tab. I hollered at the bartender to keep the change as a tip, scooped my bags up from the floor, and sashayed my way out door, hoping that the hottie was watching me go. Realizing I’d left my Kindle on the bar, I turned, finding the man holding it and glancing at the screen. I blushed a little, snatched it from his hands, and once again strolled toward the gate for my plane. Allowing myself one look back, I found his eyes on me and I warmed. Too bad I’d had to go back in - I’d killed the first perfect exit.
When I’d bought my ticket, I’d purchased a first class ticket, mainly because all the other window seats were taken, which was a must for me and flying. I just couldn’t
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