hazard of the job. Jason,” Eric called over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving Chloe’s. “Bring the princess here a cosmopolitan.”
Eric knew it was too early in the afternoon for Chloe’s favorite party drink. But she wasn’t about to call him on it because she knew that’s what he was waiting for. For her to tell him he’d gotten it wrong, that he knew better, that he should use his head and stop acting like a brain-dead jock. But not one of those comebacks crossed her mind as a serious option.
Her days of busting his chops had to come to an end, or she would never get him to agree to her proactive, career-saving strategy. And since Eric played a major role in her plan, she took a small sip of the bright pink drink when it arrived, and smiled as a peace offering.
Eric had been standing back, watching her. And when she actually went to sip more of a drink he knew she didn’t want, he pulled the glass from her hand. “What are you up to, Chloe? The answer is still no, but I’m curious what you’re doing here.”
She picked up a pretzel, snapped it in half. Eric was cute when he was so…discombobulated. “I’m not sure I want to tell you. Not when you think such ugly things about me.”
“I knew it. You are up to something.” Eric whipped the towel over the bar, which was already clean as a whistle.
“Well, yes. I am female.”
“Exactly.” He jabbed a finger toward her. “Which means that whatever you’re up to, whatever you want, is going to benefit you and leave me out in the cold.”
She fingered the stem of the glass she’d retrieved. “That’s not necessarily true. I seem to remember sharing a tequila kiss that warmed you up plenty.”
“We were both just this side of drunk—” he held his thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart “—and you know it.”
“Just think what might have happened if we’d been rip-roaring.” A thought that had often crossed her mind.
Eric, obviously, didn’t share her curiosity. “Think what might’ve happened if we hadn’t been drinking at all.”
“You tell me.” And she truly wanted to know.
For all their mutual flirtation, there were times when she felt he was only humoring her. And, perversely, she wanted to explore that feeling further. She had no desire to be any man’s comic relief.
“Give me a break.” Eric was back to rearranging the bar, moving the pretzels this way, the peanuts the other. “I’m not your type and we both know it. At least we know it when we’re sober.”
She pushed the cosmopolitan away and thought about leaving. Surely she had no face left to lose. “Could you have Jason bring me a diet soda?”
Hands shoulder-width apart on the bar, Eric hung his head. “Ah, Chloe. Don’t do this to me.”
“Don’t do what, sugar?” She really did want to hear his reservations, his doubts, his reasons why joining forces was out of the question. She needed to know the dimensions of the wall she’d be butting her head against.
“Don’t pretend you want something from me that you can’t get from any other man.” His head came up sharply then, and he gestured beyond her, toward the common room and the pub. “In fact, I’ll prove it to you. Ask a favor of any man here and I’ll guarantee you a resounding yes.”
Chloe raised a brow. “As opposed to your no.”
“You got it.”
“Eric, sugar. I’ve been here twenty minutes and there hasn’t been another man who’s said a word to me.” White lies had their uses.
“Only because I’ve been monopolizing your time.”
“You’ve also been giving me your undivided attention and ignoring the other customers sitting at the bar. And neither one of us is the least bit tipsy.” As if to punctuate her statement, Jason arrived with her glass of ice and diet soda. Chloe thanked him and stared at Eric while she sipped.
All he could do was shake his head. “You know, Chloe, I enjoy you too much for my own good. And you know me too well for mine.”
“I suppose you can blame it on Macy. Her scavenger hunt ended up having repercussions I don’t think she ever imagined.”
“Yeah.” He lifted a hand in greeting as a patron took a seat farther down the bar. “I heard about Anton splitting from Lauren.”
“You mean Lauren splitting from Anton.”
“Go ahead. Believe your bogus female facts.” Eric turned back to face her, his expression cocky, smug, totally male. “I’ll stick to the real man’s telling of the story.”
Chloe looked at him for a long, intimidating minute. The noise of the bar continued to burst like balloons over their heads. Glasses clinked and televisions blared and the doors to the kitchen swung inward and out. She toyed with the straw in her diet soda, ran her finger around the rim of the glass, dunked a persistent ice cube each time it resurfaced.
She’d grown up the only female in a household of five males. Eric Haydon could do his best to stare her down, but there wasn’t a question in her mind that she would win the battle of wills. He’d admitted to his curiosity already. All she had to do was keep from revealing too much too soon.
She knew that about men. When they wanted something, wanted it badly enough and had to wait for a woman to decide whether or not they were worthy, men were putty in a female’s hands.
And because that idea was so entertaining, she drove the final nail into his coffin. She looked up, over his head, at the television mounted above the bar. “Who’s winning?”
“Huh?”
“The Astros’ game. Without looking. Who’s winning?”
Eric blinked, then blinked again, as if working to jar loose the subliminally recorded score. “Okay, I admit it. You’ve distracted me. Happy now?”
“I’d be happy with an unqualified admission of your curiosity about what I’m doing here and what I want.”
“I said I was curious.”
“You qualified it by saying the answer is no.”
“C’mon, princess. You can’t expect me to give you an unqualified yes. For all I know, your request involves torture or public humiliation.”
Chloe glanced beyond his shoulder toward two men at the bar. They were cheering on a third, who was working to down a draft beer without stopping to take a breath. The drink dribbled out both corners of his mouth and down his chin, soaking a line down the center of his T-shirt to the crotch of his jeans.
“I don’t think you need me to provide public humiliation.” Shuddering, she tipped her head toward the threesome as proof.
“What do I need you for, Chloe?”
Chloe pretended to consider Eric’s question while inwardly, her mind raced. She really hated the thought of having to turn on her helpless-female
