Page 12 of Same Rogue
“Oh,” Gretta said in a disappointed tone. “Sweet. Congrats. You know, on bagging that.” She cleared her throat and excused herself, then took the drinks to a table on the other side of the restaurant.
Bridger was just staring at Kit with those unsettling gold eyes.
She wished she had a humorous way of getting out of the awkward moment, but no intelligent words escaped her, so here she stood, blushing like a schoolgirl, and wishing she had just kept her big mouth shut.
What had possessed her to say that out loud?
He chewed slowly, his eyes narrowed under the bill of his hat. His chair creaked as he leaned back in it. He took the napkin from his lap and threw it onto the table, and now he was doing that slow saunter her way.Crap, act busy.
She set the beer in front of the customer and looked around desperately, then gave Bridger her back to add the beer to the guy’s tab.
“Kit,” he rumbled.
She cleared her throat and tossed him an overly chipper smile. “I’ll be right with you.”
He looked down the bar and back to her, sighed and leaned on it. She typed around the kiosk until it was borderline weird and then pursed her lips and turned toward him. “Look, I’m sorry. My intrusive thoughts won. I shouldn’t have told Gretta you are taken. It’s not my place.”
He shrugged. “No skin off my back. Can I get my beer?”
“Oh, shit!” She rushed to pour his beer into a frosty glass. “I’m so sorry. I’m…I’m…off my game tonight.”
“Because of me?” he asked, and the way his gold eyes drilled right into her soul, she stammered her answer.
“N-no. Nope. Well? Maybe. I don’t know. I’m…I’m…I’m usually really good at this, but then you walked in and…and…maybe it’s your fault. You are flustering me.”
He didn’t move a muscle as she blabbed her way through that strange answer. Just stared, unblinking, and now his beerwas spilling over the frosty glass, just like the last one she’d poured.
“Good grief,” she muttered to herself, pouring the thin layer of froth off the top. She pursed her lips and handed it over to him. “I’m…I’m sorry. This is strange for you too, I can only imagine.”
He ran his tongue over his teeth and then took a drink of his beer. “When do you get off?”
“Umm. I close.” Hope bloomed inside of her. He was going to ask if he could spend time with her.
“Can you send me the information for the matchmaker? I can start the conversation with her about dissolving our pairing.”
Such a wave of disappointment drowned her. Her shoulders slumped before she could stop them, and she plastered on a forced smile. “Of course. I’ll text you Lauren’s information now.”
He wasn’t asking her out. He was trying to get unpaired to her faster.
The feeling of insecurity was back. He’d talked so easily to Gretta, but with her, he was clipped and wanted to separate his life from her as fast as possible.
She really wasn’t his type.
This hollowness filled her as she pulled her phone out and texted him the contact information.
“What’s wrong with you?” he rumbled in a growly voice.
Kit couldn’t meet his eyes. “Nothing.”
“Lie.”
“Can I get one more margarita?” a lady called from down the bar.
And Kit did what Kit did best. She plastered her customer service smile to her lips and looked at Bridger. “Excuse me.” To the customer, she said, “Of course. Another regular one or do you want to try a fruity one this time?”
Bridger hung there at the bar with a frown etched into his handsome face for a few seconds longer and then made his way back to his table. He shook his head on the way. She saw it.
She kind of understood. She was shaking her dang head a lot today too. This was not at all how any this was supposed to go.
