Page 22 of It Runs in the Family

“To making bad choices.” She held my gaze. “For once in your life.”

I laughed and lifted my glass. “Let’s make some bad choices.” But as I brought the glass up to my lips and tipped back my head, I silently added the words within reason.

Chapter Eight

I remembered that Garrett had asked for proof that I was out having fun with Mary Ellen and Ava, so when the waitress returned with another round of beers and shots, I asked her to take a photo of us with all the empty glassware before she hauled it away.

We grinned and my cousins pointed at the shot glasses in front of me while the waitress took several photos. She handed back the phone, and we scanned the images. Ava picked out “the best two” (they all looked the same to me) and sent them to her and Ava’s phones. I sent one to Garrett with a text.

Time to show me yours.

I was pleased when he didn’t answer for at least five minutes. Finally, he responded with a receipt from Berrington’s, a fancy restaurant in Waco. Entrees for two, a bottle of wine, and cheesecake.

He’d gone to Waco? That was a good fifty-minute drive. Who had he taken there and why?

But I was too buzzed at the moment to care.

We downed two more rounds of shots over the next half hour while men circled our table, eyeing my cousins like they were golden geese. I got a few cursory looks, but I’d never been one to accept a consolation prize let alone be one, so I ignored them.

We danced next to the table until one guy finally got brave enough to ask Mary Ellen to go with him onto the dance floor. Once she’d been asked, it didn’t take long for a cowboy to saunter up and ask Ava.

She gave me a worried look, then grimaced. “I don’t want to leave my cousin.”

“She can come with us,” he said as he looked me over like I was a rejected stockyard steer.

Gross.

“I don’t feel like dancing right now,” I said. I had a good buzz going, so maybe it was time to slow down. “I’m gonna get something to eat.”

“Good idea,” Ava said, but she still looked uncertain about leaving me behind as he dragged her out to the dance floor.

I watched them go, semi-envious that they could enjoy wild sex with a hot stranger. I’d had two one-night stands and hated both. I hadn’t been lying when I’d told them I needed to get to know the guy first.

My gaze drifted back to the beer bottle in front of me, but I noticed a dark-haired guy watching me from his seat at the bar. At first, I thought he was looking at someone else, but after a few moments, there was no denying I was in his sights.

There was also no denying he was hot. He was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt that brought plenty of attention to the muscles of his arms and chest.

We seemed to be in a game of chicken—the first one to look away lost—and I’d never been a good loser. After what felt like forever, but was likely no more than half a minute, he pushed away from the bar and headed toward me, beer bottle in hand.

He moved through the crowd with a confidence I was surprised to find attractive. I’d never been into arrogant men. Growing up in Billy’s shadow had beaten that out of me, a tiny bit literally. The guy made his way to my table and stood next to the stool across from me.

I pointed a finger at him. “Before you open that pretty mouth and speak, think carefully about what you’re gonna say. One cheesy pickup line and you’re history.”

His grin spread. “You think my mouth is pretty?”

Rolling my eyes, I lifted my beer bottle. “Don’t insult me.” I took a drink, and he watched, his gaze lingering on my lips as I lowered the bottle. I told myself that if he came back with some cheesy line about my mouth, I was going to hold true to my word. Even if I was attracted to him. Especially so.

“I was going to ask if I could buy you a drink, but it looks like you’ve had a few already.” His gaze dipped to the table, then back up to my face.

“Observant,” I said dryly, then took another sip of my beer.

He laughed as he lowered onto the stool. “You from around here?”

I set my bottle down. “That’s the best you can come up with?”

A sexy grin lit up his hazel eyes, but they weren’t your garden-variety hazel. They were bright green with a light brown ring around his pupils. His broad shoulders lifted into a lazy shrug. “You kind of hamstrung me.”

I snorted. “Really? Cheesy pickup lines are all you’ve got?” I finished my bottle and slid out of my seat. “The good news is that the night is young enough that you still have time to pick up someone else.” The alcohol must have made me bold because I walked over to him and leaned into his ear, whispering, “Nice try.”