Bait: The Wake Series, Book One(2)

Casey finally looked up with a blank expression. Standing stock still, he said hello then went right back to his phone.

“Don't mind him.” Cory smiled and then our drinks arrived. Only when I took a swig of my beer did Casey look my way again.

I smiled at him and mouthed “mmm, good.”

I wondered what his problem was. He looked like an easy-going guy. He wore flip-flops with jeans for crying out loud. I decided that maybe he, too, had had a shitty day.



It wasn’t too long before all of the old gang filled HLS. We chatted and played catch-up. It was fantastic seeing everyone. The cocktails flowed, my drowned appearance and lack of garments quickly forgotten.

Cory and Micah danced in the other room. They made a great couple. Since I needed another beer, I decided to belly up to the bar next to Casey, where he'd been most of the time. All night I'd wanted to walk over and talk to him and needing another drink was reason enough.

Leaning toward him a little to get his attention, I said, “What are you drinking? It's Casey, right?” I was, obviously, really smooth. It was evident he’d been drinking the same draught beer I had. Okay, so I didn't know what to say to him, but I really wanted him to talk to me.

“Right.” He was tight-lipped. I didn't feel like being a pest, so I waited patiently for the bartender. I bounced and bobbed to the song playing that filtered in from the large, banquet-style room on the other side of the bar.

“And...” I coaxed.

Finally, he spoke more than just two words in a row, “I'm drinking a new Bay brew. It's pretty good.” But he still refused to look at me straight in the eye.

“I think I'm drinking a Bay beer, too. It must be local.”

“They're local,” he said. “I'm a brewer. That's what I do.” It finally seemed like he might be interested in small talk with me. I was relieved.

“That's cool. I'm a chef. A sous chef now, but I'll be head day chef soon. So...” I trailed off, and faked my impatience waiting for another pint.

“That's how you and Micah know each other then? You’re friends from school? I think she mentioned that.” I liked his voice. It sounded raspy and fallow. I definitely didn't want him to stop talking.

His eyes finally met mine and then he seemed to survey me from head to toe. It made me self-conscious, like my face had something on it, but I pretended to be unaffected. He was blatantly taking inventory of me, which worked in my favor because I wanted to do the same.

“Yeah, we lived together for a few years. Micah’s amazing and she looks really happy with your brother.”

He nodded his agreement. “I know. They make me nauseous sometimes, but yeah, they're good for each other.” Casey finished his beer and motioned to the bartender to bring two instead of just mine. “If you cook as well as her, I bet you're pretty damn good.” There was almost a grin hiding behind the beginnings of a beard he had going on.

“Thanks, I'm sure your beer is pretty damn good, too,” I said in return. He was finally being friendly. I could be, too. He gave the bartender money for both our beers.

“Thank you.” He turned in the stool facing me. I had his full attention. His eyes didn't look like they had when he walked in. He looked more at ease. More comfortable.

“Oh, you'd like my brew,” he said and nodded confidently, with the first real smile he'd gifted me.

It was worth the wait. I felt like I’d truly earned it.

“How do you know that? I have a very particular palate.” Cleary flirting, I arched an eyebrow.

It was true. My mouth had an uncanny ability to detect things. It worked well for me in my occupation. Chances were, if I liked a dish I could guess the ingredients from taste alone. It hadn’t ever failed me.

“Because you've already had four of them. Going on five.” His fresh smile broke clean through, teeth and all. He was charming me and he had me dangling on a line. I laughed in jest at the trap that I’d played right into. If it kept that look on his face, he could have tricked me all night.

When Casey smiled, his whole face was involved. His eyes, his cheeks, his mouth, those teeth, his chest puffed out, and his head tipped back. He looked pretty damn proud. His delight was contagious.

He had the most perfect set of teeth I had ever seen.

I needed to leave him alone.

That was probably why I felt the need to deflate his ever-growing ego. So, I told him, “I've had better.”