Page 31 of The Bartender Special

“Which we did.”

Benny shook his head.

“No, I mean we look like we just bumped into each other two seconds ago and are being forced into a picture already. We need to get more comfy with it.”

Jack held the phone up and, this time, Benny tried a different angle. He turned around to face Jack, cheeks already turning into hot springs.

“Do you mind if I put my arms around you?” He hurried over his words to explain his intent. “We need to look believable or, at least, less artificial than whatever that last picture was. Remember, if my quasi-internet fame works then looking like we belong together could help Cassidy’s Place.”

“So, two trolls trapped under a bridge isn’t the goal.” There was a slight mocking tone to the words, but Jack kept on. “Fine. I formally give you permission to mold me however you want, Internet Boy. I am your clay. Be gentle.”

Benny already expected to feel a hardened body beneath Jack’s clothing—their kiss the day before had definitely made that detail clear—yet that didn't stop the little trill of excitement that boosted his lust level another notch as Benny slid one arm around his waist. That level only rose as he placed his other hand on top of his chest, fanning his fingers out for maximum feel. Benny leaned his head into the facade, resting against Jack’s shoulder like he’d done the move on the daily.

He silently prayed to Idris Elba that the heat in his cheeks wouldn’t catch Jack’s shirt on fire.

Jack, unaware his shirt was currently in danger of combustion, looked amused.

Benny ignored him the best he could.

“Now use your free hand to go around my waist and then smile like you mean it,” he ordered. “Relax, but don’t slouch into it.”

Jack didn’t fuss past that, obliging for a few snaps of the same pose.

They all came out light years better than the first troll-esque abomination.

“The first step of our real-fake relationship has been completed,” Benny approved. “Now let me go ahead and post this before we walk in and I forget that this was an idea I agreed to.”

He took a step back but overcompensated with his awkward speed and stumbled. Jack had to reach out and steady him. However, he didn’t seem to be struggling internally like Benny was.

“Just don’t make the caption super cheesy like ‘Guy? More like fly’ or something like that. I’m already about to endure Carol. I don’t want to give her the weapon of a chant.”

Benny didn’t point out that Carol was still going to be a thorn in their side, cheesy caption or not, but instead typed out a heart emoticon. He tagged Jack in the picture next.

“That should get people interested in you,” he said. “And maybe those people will be interested enough to come back later to see if I give an update. Then we could post a picture at the bar and really reel them in.”

Benny felt a new influx of nerves tighten into a ball in the pit of his stomach.

“If we survive the next hour.”

Arbor Bay was broken up into three sections of social real estate. Where out-of-towners stayed, where the common folk lived, and the Robertson Estate. The latter owned the most expansive residential acreage the town had to offer.

Sprawling.

Expensive.

Balconies and block-wood columns and potted plants that stayed more hydrated than Benny did on any given day.

Not a spot of mildew on the siding or rust from hard water at its base.

A Southern Living magazine cover, waiting for a photographer to fawn over it.

Benny had never been inside of the mini-mansion—the pinnacle of southern royalty—but he had been to the garden to its left, at the end of an equally custom-made path of imported stone and impeccable gardening.

Jack led the way to the first hand-placed paver.

“Have you been here before?” he asked. “The garden part, I mean?”

Benny was careful with his footing. He was clumsier than most guys and his shorter height of 5’9” didn’t help when it came to his stride. The dress shoes he’d decided to wear—despite never wearing them before—weren’t helping his confidence. They had a little more slide on their bottoms than he deemed safe for carefree use.