Mr. Wrong Number(87)

Jack took the bottle as she held it out to him, and his fingers looked gigantic next to hers. He said, “If it comes to that, then yes.”

“Oh, it will definitely come to that.” She gave him another sarcastic grin and turned her body so she was facing him. “I plan on getting floor-licking drunk tonight, buddy. Like, can’t-remember-your-own-mother, vomiting-in-the-elevator-phone-box, is-she-okay-or-should-we-call-someone hammered. Care to join me on the thrill ride?”

Jack tipped the bottle into his mouth and let the liquor burn through him, warming a path all the way down to his belly. She watched him the whole time, and he wasn’t sure if it was the buzz or not, but she was starting to look a little hot to him. He finished the drink and smiled as he handed it back to her.

She wrapped her slim fingers around the neck of the bottle and said, “So . . . ? You in, Best Man?”

“I’m all yours, tiny bartender.”