Wills turned his hand beneath mine, and we were palm to palm.
“Who were those two men who stopped you by the bar?”
“Hmm? Oh, just a couple of men I know from work.”
The light went on. “That’s where I saw him before.”
“Excuse me?” He released my hand and sat back in his chair.
“In your company’s newsletter.”
He straightened. “What?”
“Yeah. It was folded up in your suit jacket when you came home sick from work last month.” It occurred to me that I hadn’t seen it since then.
“Oh.” He relaxed.
“Yeah. There was a picture of your secretary—I had no clue you had one.”
“Ms. DiNois. She’s about a thousand percent better than the woman I had last spring.”
“Tell me about her.”
“She could never get my coffee straight. Oh, you mean Ms. DiNois.” He grinned when I kicked him lightly under the table. “Well, she does get my coffee straight.”
“As long as she knows you’re not!” I muttered.
“Theo, she’s involved with someone else.” I opened my mouth. “And no, I’m not going to tell you. It’s not my business.”
“I wasn’t going to ask,” I said loftily. “What I was going to say was that the newsletter mentioned she sang ‘Santa Baby.'”
“She did, and if I recall correctly, her version was almost as sultry as Eartha Kitt’s.”
“So you remember.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Going by what it said in the newsletter, you were so smashed you were having a riveting conversation with a coat.”
He’d just taken a sip of his drink, and he slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from spraying it over the table. “Sorry. Someone spiked the punch. I don’t normally drink that much.”
I handed him a napkin and he blotted his lips. “I know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have teased you. But you didn’t drive home in that condition, I hope.”
“No, the company had transportation available.”
“Was that why I had to drive you to pick up the Dodge on Christmas Day?”
“Yeah.”
“But you didn’t seem drunk on Christmas Eve.” He hadn’t even smelled of alcohol.
“Someone else saw to it that I had plenty of black coffee—”
“That just means you’re a wide awake drunk. Sorry.”
“That’s okay, babe. I’m not surprised you and Dad get along. He feels the same way. Anyway, I’d managed to sober up some by the time I was ready to leave.”
“Well, I’d never have known.” I frowned, but I could see he was uncomfortable talking about it. “Hey, as long as you didn’t drive, it’s no biggie. I’ve had too much to drink myself on occasion.” Which he probably remembered from last spring, when I’d made such a fool of myself. I decided to bring the topic back to the guy he’d talked to earlier. I racked my brains. It made me crazy when I couldn’t remember where I’d seen someone before. Finally, “I’ve got it.”
“Got what?”
“The guy you were talking to. He’s Dev Howard, and according to the caption, he’d been kissing someone in the closet. Did they ever find out who it was?”
“No, but I did.”
“And? Don’t make me twist your arm, Matheson.”
“It was the guy he was with tonight.” He smiled and changed the subject. “How’s your drink?”
“Excellent. I’ve always had a preference for sweet drinks.”
His eyes took on a faraway look. “When I was in college, I used to tend bar for my frat house.”
“You did?”
“Mmm hmm. You’re not the only one with vast, unknown capabilities, babe.” He ran his fingertips over the back of my hand. “For a while I thought about becoming a professional bartender.”
“Wearing just a bowtie and snug black pants, and nothing on your torso?”
He flushed. “I hadn’t considered that, but…” He actually seemed to be considering it now.
“Never mind, I’m sorry I put that thought in your mind. You were saying?”
He grinned and crossed his legs, his ankle resting on a knee. “One of my fraternity brothers was in pre-med, and we always called him ‘Doc.'”
“You’re going somewhere with this?”
“Yep.” He drew a pattern on the table, peeking at me through his lashes. “Well, this frat brother had a thing for walnut daiquiris.” He was looking too innocent. Was he setting me up for something?
“Okay.”
“One evening he came in, really wiped out from classes and labs and everything. ‘Let me have my usual, dude,’ he said. Have I ever told you how much I hate being called ‘dude’?”
“No, I can’t say that you have. I’ll make a note of it.”
“That’s why I love you.”
“Among other reasons?”
“Many other reasons. Yeah.” He uncrossed his legs, leaned forward, and kissed me, then licked his lips and smiled. “I love the way strawberry tastes on your mouth.”
If his kiss hadn’t made me hard, his words would have. I shifted in my seat. “Go on with the story.”