Up in Smoke (Crossing the Line, #2)(31)

His mustache twitched. “You got ID?”

“No, sir, I don’t.” She bit her bottom lip and tilted her head. “Wouldn’t help much if I did. I’m not old enough to drink just yet. Two more years.”

Two low curses behind her. A few chairs scraped back, probably to get a better look. God, how predictable. She wanted nothing more than to turn around and give them the double middle finger, but she had a job to do. Phase one of which was to convince the bartender to let her stay. Obviously he was the type who ran when he saw her kind approaching.

Smart man.

He sighed and reached behind the cash register, closing his hands around a black cordless phone. “Make your call. You want a soda or something?”

She scrunched up her shoulders like she couldn’t believe she was getting a drink in such a fine establishment. “A Shirley Temple, maybe?” She tossed her hair and sent the four men behind her a conspiratorial look. “Something with a cherry.”

With that blatant innuendo, she thinned the herd by half, several men suddenly enthralled by their pints of beer. Weird. Usually more men folded under the pressure of a virgin, worried about the cling factor. Must be the tight jeans.

Time to up the ante. She dialed seven numbers on the phone, making sure the last button she hit was “clear.” No reason to traumatize some stranger who had the misfortune of answering this call. She reached into her pocket to pay the bartender for the Shirley Temple he’d just set down in front of her, but he waved her off, indicating a burly man who’d just sidled up to the bar a few seats down. Burly Dude winked to let her know he’d bought the drink. What a high roller. Erin smiled back at him, drumming her fingernails on the bar as she waited for her imaginary call to connect.

“Henry, is that you?” She said into the phone. “I can’t believe you ditched me again. Don’t tell me it’s an accident. It’s the third time this week you’ve gone off without me. With her.”

Burlykins moved a little closer, inching his rocks glass full of amber liquid across the bar. He feigned interest in the baseball game playing on the television, but she could tell he was listening to her conversation. Hanging on to what probably used to be a decently handsome face, she put him in his late forties. A white tan line on his ring finger indicated he was recently divorced or removed it with the sole intent of approaching her. Fucking with him ought to be fun.

“This is because I won’t put out, isn’t it?” Erin whispered furiously into the phone. “She’s easy, isn’t she? Are you back at the hotel right now getting ready to—” She wiped at her eyes. “Fine. Maybe I’ll give it up to someone else… Yeah, today is a good a day as any. Maybe even the next man I see. Think about that while you’re with her. I hope it was worth it.”

She ended the phony call with a flourish and sipped at her Shirley Temple. Under her breath, she recited back both ends of the conversation to herself, complete with hand gestures.

“Boyfriend trouble?”

Ahhh, right on cue, douche bag. “Yeah,” she answered sullenly. “Actually, I doubt he’s my boyfriend anymore. Think maybe he’s found someone else.”

He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “He must be blind.”

She pressed a hand to her cheek as if to hide a blush. “Or just stupid.”

They shared a laugh and he moved closer, right to the point she could handle. Any farther and she’d have to make an excuse to distance herself. The switchblade felt heavy against her ankle. His gaze lingered on her exposed belly as he sipped his drink. “You want to talk about it?”

“Oh, you know.” She fished the cherry out of her drink. “He thinks because he’s loaded and lives off campus that every girl should fall at his feet. Give it up on the first date. I told him he had to work a little harder for it.” Slowly and deliberately, she bit into the cherry. “I guess I’m kind of a tease.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “That so?”

She lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “Maybe this is a sign that my methods aren’t working.” Her lips spread into a smile. “Maybe I’ll try something else to keep a boyfriend next time. Like kidnapping or blackmail. Although I’ve tried both before. So messy.”

Burly’s laughter was halting, as if he didn’t know whether or not she was joking. “Or you could just—”

“Give it up?” Erin let her eyes dip below his belt, trying not to grimace when he sucked in his gut and tilted his hips up. His pants were already tented. Lovely. “You look like the kind of man I should take advice from, too. Are you an officer of the law?”

She knew her dazzled expression had paid off when his chest puffed up. “Corrections officer. Supervisor, actually.”

He leaned ever-so-slightly closer and she ducked back, wagging a chastising finger in front of his nose. To make up for it, she tucked a finger into her shirt collar and moved it back and forth, giving him a peek at her cleavage. “At Cook County?”

“Huh?” He turned toward the bar a little, possibly to hide his growing erection. “Yeah.”

“Wow.” She ran her hands up her thighs. “On my tour this morning, I heard there was a prison escape not too long ago. It must have been on someone else’s shift. Can’t imagine anyone getting by you.”