MANifesting: Older Man, Younger Woman Short Romance

by Haley Travis

  From the rowdy laughter occasionally drifting over from the singles event and how often I was supplying my server Tracy with trays of drinks, it must be going well.

  Running a cloth over the wooden bar top’s polished surface, I smiled as I looked around the room. So many people were having a pleasant evening in my space. It gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  My reverie was cut short by a tiny voice. “Excuse me?”

  I turned, and instantly the calm warmth was replaced with heat and an almost crushing pressure across the front of my chest.

  Walking to the end of the bar, I couldn’t help staring at the magnificent beauty leaning shyly against the rail. Her eyes were melted chocolate. Her dark hair tumbled in sexy waves just past her shoulders. Her gorgeous pouty bottom lip inspired fantasies I couldn’t even begin to picture carrying out in public.

  “Hi, welcome to Duke’s,” I said brightly, trying to pull myself together.

  “You looked like you were a million miles away,” she smiled. Her fingers twitched against the wood, and her eyes couldn’t seem to meet mine for more than a few seconds before darting away.

  I gave my head a dramatic shake to make her laugh. “Apparently, every ninety minutes the brain shifts into beta state, and people blank out for a moment,” I chuckled.

  She blinked, still smiling softly. “Really? Interesting. Like when you forget what you were doing if you walk through a doorway. Something about being in a new space makes the brain reset.”

  “Exactly.” I couldn’t believe that I was discussing random brain biology facts with this gorgeous woman. “What can I get you?”

  “I’m not quite sure, which is why I came out here,” she said. Glancing over her shoulder, she leaned in to whisper, “Plus, those games are getting a bit weird.”

  My elbows slid forward across the counter so my mouth was closer to her ear. “How weird?”

  “I’m not staring into some strange guy’s eyes for two minutes,” she said, her nose crinkling adorably as she gave her head a shake. “That’s just too much.”

  “So you need a drink to mellow you out so that you can find your dream guy?”

  The second those words left my mouth, I wish they hadn’t. I was filled with a strange urge to ask her out myself. That hadn’t happened in a couple of years, at least.

  Her fingers trailed along the bottom of her throat restlessly. “A drink is a good excuse to collect yourself, right?” she asked.

  “Sure, I guess so. What do you like?”

  “Something light and sweet, I guess.”

  I wagged a finger at her. “That’s a trap.”

  “What?”

  I leaned in closer, unable to stop myself. “If we were in a cheesy movie, I’d have to tell you that you are light and sweet, then you would giggle, and I’d ask for your phone number.”

  A faint pink highlighted the skin across her cheeks.

  “So I’m going to make you a drink that suits your real personality,” I said, stepping back before I made her nervous. “Sweet and spicy, and a bit complicated. Right?”

  The way her eyes lit up when she laughed did strange things through my entire body.

  Usually bartending was the most relaxing part of owning three bars. Mixing drinks was a blast. But now I felt like this lovely girl was watching me, and I wanted everything to be perfect and done with flair.

  Ice sailed up in the air before landing in my cocktail shaker. The spiced orange vodka was poured in from three feet above the rim. Two drops of cinnamon liqueur were added with the precision of a chemist. A splash of lemon, three drops of cherry.

  The beautiful girl seemed incredibly amused, then delighted when I poured her drink into a giant martini glass with a purple swirled glass stem.

  “Only an expert would hand me a glass that matched my nail polish,” she grinned.

  As I slid the drink toward her, I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “What’s your name?”

  “Allie. And you are?”

  “Kellan.”

  She took a cautious sip, then her eyes flew wide. “Wow, this is really good.”

  I poured the last teaspoon from the cocktail shaker into a shot glass so that I could have a taste. “Nice. I thought it would work. This is a new brand of fruit liqueurs, and they keep their integrity a bit more in the mix.”

  Allie laughed lightly. “Are you a mad scientist of cocktails?”

  “Yes.” My left eyebrow raised. “So I have to warn you, sip that slowly. It might hit you like a ton of bricks.”

  She nodded, the curls at the tips of her hair swaying slightly. “I only have one drink when I’m out, so this should do the trick.”

  “Hold on,” I said to her, darting to the other end of the bar to pull a couple of beers for Tracy.

  When I returned, I came to the end of the counter to stand near her. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask – why is a beautiful woman like you at a singles event?”

  Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip on one side, pulling her mouth sideways in an irresistible pout.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” I said quickly. “I’m honestly just curious.”

  She nodded. “My friend persuaded me to come. I guess people have to start dating somewhere, right?”

  It was amazing to me that she wouldn’t be surrounded by men at all times. Then I took a closer look into her eyes. She was definitely skittish. A little anxious. Shy. Maybe she’d had a bad experience with a man before she was ready.

  If it weren’t for the few inches of bar counter between us, I’d be extremely tempted to slip an arm around her.

  “You’re just starting to date?” I asked gently. “What are you looking for?”

  Her chin tipped up as those wide, expressive eyes locked on mine. There was no way she couldn’t feel the electric pull between us.

  “Yeah, um, I don’t know,” she murmured. “I guess I have to figure that out.”

  “May I take you out to dinner tomorrow night?” My words seemed to surprise both of us. “Or if dinner is a bit much with a stranger, we could just grab a coffee or something,” I added.

  “Um, I don’t know,” she whispered.

  “Hey, Allie, come on back – the next round is starting!” Caitlin called out from the back.

  “Oh.” Allie pulled out her wallet. I placed my hand on hers, holding both her hand and the wallet on the counter for a moment.

  “Please, it’s on the house.” I tried to flash my most winning smile.

  “Thanks.” She didn’t flinch away, merely looking at me with the strangest expression.

  I realized that I couldn’t keep her cornered forever, even though the simple sensation of my hand on hers was making the hair on the back of my neck prickle. Retracting my hand, I reached into my pocket and gave her my card. “Text me if you decide that coffee or dinner is a good idea. Please.”

  “Okay. Thank you.” She dropped the card into her purse, and I had the sinking suspicion that she wouldn’t be bold enough to send a message.

  She picked up her glass, and I noticed that her deep purple nails really did match the stem. As she walked away, it was impossible not to catch her graceful steps, her perfectly rounded ass, and the way she glanced back at me with the sweetest, softest smile.

  Dammit. There it was. That flicker of electricity that I didn’t think I’d ever feel. The urge to lose total control. I wanted her completely.

  Could I be what she was looking for?

  There was no way to find out without getting to know Allie better. But there was no way for that to happen unless I could spend some time with her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  * Allie *

  Talking to all of these eager young men in their dark suits and casual sweaters felt hollow and fake after meeting Kellan. Forcing myself to go through the motions, my cheeks felt tired from an hour of forced smiling.

  Trying to look to Megan and Caitlin for guidance, I admired how they kept every co
nversation upbeat. It was as if those women had no fear at all.

  To me, that was completely unnatural. Even once I finished my impossibly delicious martini, I couldn’t relax enough to engage in any real conversations with these men. After having stared into Kellan’s gorgeous deep blue eyes, nothing else could compare.

  Each time I walked past the archway to the lounge’s main room, my gaze automatically snapped toward the tall, slightly rough-looking man behind the bar.

  He had to be at least six foot two. Those hulking shoulders had not been sculpted by pouring beer and shaking cocktails. I couldn’t help wondering what had created that incredible physique .

  Yet it wasn’t his gorgeous appearance that really pulled me in. There was something about the way he leaned close to really listen to me. Something about the way he caught my eye to sense exactly what I was thinking.

  It was the spark .

  I’d never sparked with anyone before, and the whole situation made me feel a little uneasy. It wasn’t supposed to happen yet. I hadn’t finished making my list of what I truly wanted. I hadn’t thought everything through yet. It was just a little too soon for me to even consider having dinner with a strange man.

  The next time I passed by the archway, Kellan’s eyes met mine as he raised his hand in a friendly wave.

  A mature, sensible woman would have gone to the bar to speak with him again. Instead, I fled out the back door when a couple of women were sneaking out for a cigarette.

  The second I got home, I turned on some quiet music in my apartment and flopped across the couch with my new notebook.

  The list of what I wanted in a man was only partially finished, but it was a start.

  – Real boyfriend material, with husband potential.

  – Owns his own business or has a career. Must have some direction in life. Not necessarily rich, but stable.

  – Outgoing. A go-getter who takes care of things.

  – Must really listen to me. Concerned for my well-being. Not selfish.

  – Respects me, cares for me.

  – Communicates clearly and openly.

  – Interesting and well-read. Diverse topics of conversation.

  – Observant. Sees small details.

  – Hopefully a little older, tall, and handsome. Sort of a tough guy on the outside, but he’s always sweet with me.

  – Calls me ‘sweetheart’, or something more charming than ‘baby’.

  – The spark?

  My fingers trembled slightly as I realized that Kellan already hit most of the points on the list. I hadn’t written down my preference for not meeting a man in a bar, so maybe that didn’t count. Also, the back of my left hand still felt strange every time I thought about him touching me. Did that mean anything?

  The only thing was that he was a bartender. That was a fine job, but it wasn’t a career. Of course, it could be a temporary thing as he put himself through law school or something like that.

  To make a fair assessment, I would have to see him again.

  Before I made a few more notes in my journal, I noticed that it wasn’t lying completely flat near the back. Flipping through the pages, Kellan’s business card fell out. As I dropped it into my purse, it must have slid inside my notebook.

  The specific notebook I had started to manifest a man. Was that a sign?

  Grabbing my phone, I called Christine. “Hello?”

  “Hi – hang up on me if you’re still on your date,” I said quickly.

  Her laugh twinkled so loudly it was as if she was in the room with me. “No, I just got home.”

  “How was it?” I asked.

  “I think he has great potential,” she said thoughtfully. “It’s too early to tell.”

  “Does he make your heart race?” I asked, surprising myself.

  “A bit,” she nodded. “It might be a slow burn kind of situation, where he gets hotter the more I get to know him.”

  “That can go the wrong way as well,” I laughed. “Don’t forget Peter.”

  “Good grief – don’t remind me.”

  Christine had dated Peter about a year ago, and he had seemed absolutely amazing at first. But the more he talked, and the more she got to know him, the worse he became, until she couldn’t understand what she had seen him in the first place.

  “How was the singles night?” she asked. “Were there any eligible bachelors at the event who caught your eye?”

  “Well, not at the event, exactly,” I said slowly.

  I heard a shuffle. “Hold on.” There was a pause and click. “Okay, safely in my bedroom now. Tell me everything. You obviously met someone.”

  I stifled a laugh. I didn’t think it was serious enough for her to have to avoid her nosy roommate. “There’s nothing to tell, really,” I said. “The guy who was bartending was very…”

  “Hot? Sexy?”

  “Intriguing.”

  Christine paused. “Okay, I guess that’s good.”

  “He was also completely gorgeous,” I laughed. “But that wasn’t the point. He made me feel…I don’t know. Like I was instantly drawn to him. Like a magnet. There was this weird pull.”

  Christine actually squealed. “You felt that spark!”

  “I doubt that he did,” I said quickly. “He probably has women hitting on him all the time. I mean, he’s a bartender, and he’s ridiculously handsome.”

  “What kind of handsome? Tell me.”

  I appreciated how excited Christine got when I had news, but she did get a bit demanding.

  “I guess you’d start with tall, dark, and sexy,” I said, trying to think analytically while my heart fluttered just from picturing Kellan’s face. “But it was more about the little details. The strange dark blue of his eyes. The way his dark gray button-down shirt stretched across his chest a little, with the cuffs rolled up to show off his forearms. A scrollwork tattoo on the inside of his left arm just below the elbow.”

  Christine’s long, loud laugh made me smile as I stretched my feet out across the couch. “Allie, nobody notices little details like that about a man unless they are smitten.”

  “Whatever. I’m not ready yet.”

  “Of course you are! You have your new book and everything. You’re supposed to be starting to date now, right?”

  “No,” I said emphatically. “This is the planning stage. Figuring out what it is that I have decided to set my intention on.”

  “Oh, knock it off and just go out with the guy,” she said. “Get a few dates out of the way, and figure it out on the fly like everybody else.”

  It was impossible to explain myself to her accurately. I had to plan things in advance. I’d always been this way. If I didn’t, bad things might happen. If I just let life toss me around, I’d end up struggling like my mother, and find myself married to a total loser.

  “Look,” she said gently, “I know that you’re a bit uptight and particular about your lists and planning and whatever. But we’re talking about love here. That’s a force bigger than logic. You can’t plan it. You can only feel it.”

  “How many times have you been in love?”

  Christine paused. “Wow. I thought I was a couple of times, but I’m pretty sure it was only infatuation. I was definitely in love with Dylan, but that certainly didn’t work out.”

  “Sorry to bring that up.”

  “No, that’s all right,” she said. “I’d rather have some heartbreak than never use my heart at all, you know what I mean?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “So you’re going to have to get out there and go on a few dates before you’re ready,” she said, in her most businesslike tone. “You’re going to have to call the bar and get his name.”

  “Kellan.”

  “Oh, I like that.”

  “Me too,” I giggled. Every time I pictured his face, I felt floaty and giddy. “I have his card, but I don’t know about calling him. I’ll think about it, is that fair?”

  “Absolutely. Hey – do you want to go out f
or a quick dinner and a drink tomorrow night?”

  “A Friday night where you don’t have a date?” I asked.

  “Of course I have a date,” she snorted. “I have you. Meet you at Goldie’s at seven.”

  “Sure.”

  We hung up , and I turned back to my notebook. Staring at the page framed with starry washi tape, the thoughts just wouldn’t come.