However, the beautiful night, the gorgeous scenery, and getting to know Hunter’s friends had made the adventure to the Hamptons a worthy one. Plus, there was Mallory in the white dress, which, let’s be honest, had caused her mouth to go dry when Mallory had first approached. True, their initial interaction hadn’t been fantastic, and Mallory had been a little brusque with her, but maybe she’d steal a few minutes and try for a second conversation. Mallory had probably just been busy.
“So where’d you learn to tend bar?” the blond friend, Brooklyn, asked. “Because I’ve never seen anyone more in command of that place than when you showed up back there. It’s fun to watch you work.”
“It’s impressive. She’s right,” Sam added.
Hunter nodded. “And it gets her more attention than anyone in the place. Half those girls show up for the hot bar back. Speaking of which, excuse me for a moment. I’ll be right back.”
Hope shook her head. “Not true. But to answer your question,” she said, addressing Brooklyn. “I started small, learning everything I could as I went. My first job was behind the bar at this little dive in Queens before I moved to a dive downtown, and then a bit of a nicer place uptown. I put in my time and learned all the tricks before steadily working my way up.”
“And then you were hired at Showplace?” Mallory asked, joining their group. “Is that what happens next in the story?”
And there was the white dress again with sexy curves peeking out, her skin flawless and with the addition of a tan. Hope bit back the thought and realized she’d lost the question. “I’m sorry?”
“You were hired at Showplace after that?” Mallory said.
“Right. No. No, sorry. Not exactly—”
But Hope didn’t have time to finish her answer, as a waiter emerged from the house with a tray of shots and the bottle of rum she’d given Mallory. Hunter stood on the top step, looking down on the deck of partygoers and called for everyone’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, gentlemen and ladies and whoever the hell else you are, we are lucky enough to have a true connoisseur of spirits with us tonight. My friend, Hope, is a kick-ass bartender from Soho, and she’s brought us a special sample from a gem of a distillery in the Caribbean. So grab a shot of rum as it goes by and let’s toast to a fantastic night and maybe get a little drunk together.”
And just like that, the guests broke into applause, and a few glances were tossed her way, which made Hope a little self-conscious. She wasn’t one for the spotlight, so she smiled and nodded, feeling the blush touch her cheeks until she lowered her head in escape. “You so didn’t have to do that,” she said to Hunter, who rejoined them, distributing shots to their group.
“Yes, I did. You’re awesome and so is your rum. I know because I tried some inside.” She bounced her eyebrows and slid her arm around Samantha.
As the others downed the rum, which wasn’t exactly cheap, Mallory sipped from her glass as if it were some kind of unfortunate insecticide. “It’s very good,” she said to Hope in a less than convincing tone. What was with this girl anyway? She didn’t cut loose very easily. That much was clear.
“You could just toss it back, you know,” Hope said. “For the full experience.”
Mallory raised her gaze. “Yeah, I’m not really a ‘toss it back’ kinda girl.”
“A shame,” Hope said and downed her own shot. “You must miss out on a lot.”
“Not really,” Mallory fired back. “There’s more than one way to have fun.”
“Yeah? How do you like to have a good time?” Mallory was pretentious, that much she was learning, but she was also kind of fun to mess with because of it. Her friends on the other hand were watching the exchange as if it were a difficult tennis match.
“I’m kind of a private person, if you don’t mind.”
Hope set her empty shot glass on a passing waiter’s tray and held up both hands. “I don’t mind at all.”
Samantha, who looked a little traumatized, jumped in to save the day. “So when did you discover this little distillery? I happen to love this stuff.”
“Last year,” Hope told her. “I’d heard rumors about the place and wanted to find out for myself, so I took a little business excursion.”
“I didn’t know bartenders took business trips,” Mallory said, a perfect smile in place. She was still sipping the rum.
“And now you do,” Hope informed her, actually really enjoying the give and take now.
Mallory, however, didn’t seem to be, as her eyes darkened at the retort. “So then you, what? Come back to work and convince your boss to order a case for the bar? You must be pretty persuasive.”
Hope raised an eyebrow at Mallory, who was clearly on some kind of power trip for reasons she couldn’t identify. “My boss?”
“Yeah,” Mallory said, pressing on. “He or she must trust their bartenders implicitly to give them ordering power is all. It’s a compliment.”
Hunter shrugged. “Well, Hope’s excellent at her job. A rock star, and I’m sure that goes a long way.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Mallory said, nodding. “But she’s still a bartender, and as such, one wouldn’t expect her to come with that kind of pull.”
“Um…actually, I’m not,” Hope answered, nonchalant. This was kinda fun.
Mallory quirked her head. “I’m sorry. You’re not what?”
“Just a bartender. I mean, I’m that too. I love to tend bar, but I’m also a business owner.”
“Owner of what?” Mallory asked.
“Showplace.”
Right on cue, four jaws dropped. “Wait,” Brooklyn said, making a rewind gesture with her hands. Hope enjoyed the rewind gesture. “You own Showplace? What happened to that bald guy with the big stomach who used to grumble at everyone? Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“Ralph?” Hope asked. “He was causing the place to bleed money and sold it to me a year and a half ago.”
“Back when you started working behind the bar and the place got crazy popular out of nowhere?” Hunter stared at her. “And you’re just now telling me this?”
“I didn’t think it was a secret,” Hope told her in all honesty.
The best part was that Mallory’s beautiful face was now carefully blank. It seemed she was out of ammunition, which was beyond pleasurable for Hope. She accepted the win but decided not to celebrate. Not really her style. “If you’ll excuse me I think I’m going to check out the water. I’m on kind of a high right now.”
Mallory watched Hope descend the steps to the sand below with a prickle of regret moving up her spine. She’d behaved badly…again…and she wanted to somehow fix it, because this wasn’t her. At least, it wasn’t who she wanted to be.
It was dark out now, but the light from the deck illuminated the surrounding shoreline, and with Hope’s blond hair, it wasn’t hard to track her progress as she walked along its edge. “Excuse me a moment,” Mallory said to her friends, who exchanged interested glances. “And stop that. No looking at each other.”
“Like at all?” Brooklyn called after her. “Because that could get weird.”
“You’ll figure it out,” she called back.
When she stepped down onto the beach, she slipped out of her shoes and inhaled sharply at the cold sand against the bottoms of her feet. Unfortunately, when the sun disappeared, it had taken much of the warmth of the day with it. She walked gingerly down to the shoreline and headed north to where she saw Hope, who was staring out at the darkened water.
“I have no idea why I’m rude to you,” she said to Hope’s back.
Hope tossed a glance over her shoulder, but she was smiling and that was something. “Yet, you can’t seem to help yourself.”
Mallory shook her head. “I don’t know what it is.”
“Try. I’m honestly curious.”
“I think it’s your cavalier carriage and that smile you have when you make the drinks that switches when you smile at me and then—” She paused because Hope
was staring at her with amusement and that sent her defenses flaring. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I think, in your roundabout way, you just said you’re hot for me.”
“Pshhh. Um, no.” Mallory looked away as if it was the most ludicrous statement she’d heard in recent history. “That is absolutely not true. In fact,” she said, downing the rest of the shot of rum she still carried, “I find you annoying. And I find the smile annoying. That’s two annoying things about you already.” She covered her mouth in a mixture of shock and regret at the words that had just fled from her mouth without permission.
Hope shook her head slowly. “There you go again.”
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know where that comes from. I was brought up with manners, I promise. I’m generally much nicer. But with you, things just fly out of my mouth like it has a mind of its own.”
Hope held up her hands, palms out. “It’s okay. Listen, you don’t have to like me. In fact, it’s pretty obvious to me that you don’t. No rule that everyone has to get along. Plus, I’m not sure I like you either.”
Mallory stared at her. “I’m sorry?”
Hope turned to her and raised a shoulder. “I said, I’m not sure I like you. You’re kind of a snob.”
“I am not a snob,” Mallory said, outraged at the characterization and yet strangely fixating on Hope’s very full bottom lip. A strange combination of feelings. Must have been the rum.
“Well, you are a snob. Objectively,” Hope said. “You wrote me off because I tend bar and somehow acted like that made me lesser. It was kind of offensive. We can’t all be from Park Avenue.” But Hope didn’t look offended. That was the thing. Mallory couldn’t help but catch how she did look, however. Her light-blond hair was down, and the wind caught it every few seconds and gave it a sexy little tousle. It was dark on the beach, but every so often the moonlight would illuminate those big blue eyes, the ones that were expressive and yet closed off at the same time. Was that possible? She wasn’t sure. What Hope looked was hot, which was contrary to what Mallory wanted to conclude. So she pushed the thought aside and focused on making amends for her behavior in order to get back to her guests where she should be. It would be rude of her to disappear for too long.
Mallory ran her fingers through her hair and decided to try again. “But you’re not just a bartender. You’re a small-business owner. I know that now.”
“See?” Hope said, pointing. “There it is again. That was kind of a pretentious comment, you have to admit. Bartending is a perfectly valid profession. And it’s ridiculously hard. Not too many people are good at it.”
Mallory rewound the sentence. “Okay, so on review that didn’t sound great, but I’m not a snob. And I get that bartending is complicated.”
“I think it’s okay to own it,” Hope said, nodding. “The snob thing.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“So it bothers you that you’re a snob?”
“Yes. I mean, no. Because I’m not.” Damn it.
Hope nodded and the side of her mouth pulled up in amusement. “Yeah, that made total sense.” But the mouth thing, that just infuriated Mallory further.
“Maybe you’re the one who’s a snob,” Mallory shot back. “Have you ever thought of that? Because you’re being kind of judgmental right now yourself and looking very smug in the process.”
Hope smiled full-on then and took a step closer to Mallory, who noticed distantly that the cold water was now running across the tops of their feet. “You’re kind of gorgeous when you get all angry like that. Have you heard that before?”
Mallory swallowed. Caught off guard by the comment, she had no idea what to say. And Hope was noticeably close and, all right, she could admit it, still ridiculously good-looking. Who was she kidding? “I am not.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Hope said. “Except you are.” And before Mallory knew what hit her, Hope’s hands were on her dress, holding her firmly at her waist, and her mouth crushed against Mallory’s. And oh, dear lord, and baby Jesus and some saints all combined into some kind of miraculous combo platter! There had been no delay, no working up to it, no soft, light touches. Hope had stepped in and taken what she wanted, and the result was a full-on kiss, people, a ten on the Richter scale of lip locking, and Mallory had no choice but to surrender to its significant power.
In what can only be described as a clichéd reaction, her knees went weak at the onslaught that flooded her body as Hope’s warm mouth moved perfectly, expertly even, against hers. Mallory’s lips parted against the lavish attention because she wasn’t exactly in control any longer. As Hope’s tongue touched hers, all bets were off and she felt herself give back everything she was getting. The temperature on the beach must have shot up in a weird act of nature, and before Mallory knew it, the whole thing was wham-bam over.
Hope released her and met her eyes. “Sorry, but I had to do that.”
Mallory blinked, her body still thrumming, her ears ringing, and her mind struggling to catch up to the crazy thing that had just happened outside her family’s summer home. She’d just been kissed—no, owned, by this person standing in front of her who she wasn’t even sure she liked. “Had to?” she finally managed.
“Had to,” Hope confirmed. “You’re a snob. But you happen to be a really attractive snob. Walk you back?”
Mallory stared at her, the blood returning to her brain after a long delay. “That’s the first thing you have to say? The snob thing again? Yeah, I think heading back is totally for the best.” She stepped back on still-watery legs and followed Hope to the house, trying desperately to piece together the last few minutes of her time on Earth.
They rejoined the party and Mallory made the rounds, making sure everyone was tended to and having a good time. This time she made sure to pay attention to the conversation, to engage each individual the way her parents had always instructed her to. Along the way, she lost track of Hope, and that was probably a very good thing.
As the night wore on, guests began to take their leave, until it was just her best friends in addition to Bentley and his date, and of course, Gordon and TJ, who’d never left a party until the end in their entire lives.
“Did Hope head out?” she asked Hunter, who sat next to her on the outdoor couch.
“Yeah, she left about eleven. She’s driving back to the city tonight. I offered the extra room, as I didn’t think you’d mind, but she turned me down.”
“That’s a shame,” she said absently, not really meaning it.
“So what went down on the beach between you two, Mal? Everything okay?”
Mallory turned to Hunter as warning sirens blared. What happened on the beach was not something she cared for anyone to know about. She’d just keep the beach-kissing details under her hat to examine later. When she was alone. “Nothing happened. I apologized for the way I was acting. That’s all. Why are you even asking me that?”
“Whoa. Where did that come from?” Hunter asked, seemingly amused and moving her finger in a circle at Mallory. “That little aggressive reaction.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I answered your question.”
“With your dukes up, which is kinda feisty. Why are you feisty right now, Mallory?”
“Who’s feisty?” Brooklyn asked, joining them.
“Mallory is,” Hunter informed Brooklyn. “Mallory’s feisty and nothing happened on the beach with Hope. So don’t ask.”
“Got it,” Brooklyn said. “There was no making out on the beach with Hope.”
Mallory gasped. “You were spying?”
Brooklyn smiled like she’d just hit the jackpot in Vegas. “Nope. But I am clever enough to get you to spill all on your own.” Brooklyn and Hunter exchanged a celebratory chair dance.
“Why are we chair dancing?” Sam asked, hip-bumping Brooklyn as she sat.
Brooklyn smiled triumphantly and turned to Sam. “Mal made out with Hope the sexy bartender on the beach.”
“On the beac
h?” Sam asked. “The beach is so sexy. It was a sexy, sandy kiss, wasn’t it?”
Mallory covered her eyes, unable to believe she’d allowed this to happen. “I’m not discussing this with you guys. It was totally unexpected and not worthy of our time.” A lie, because Mallory couldn’t remember the last time she’d been kissed like that. Because she hadn’t. Ever. And as much as Hope irritated her, she did have the most awesome mouth that was all soft and demanding. Plus, she knew how to—
“But we always discuss sexy kissing when it happens,” Brooklyn said, confused and looking to her friends for support.
Samantha nodded. “It’s a cosmic sexy-kissing rule. She’s right. Did you kiss her or did she kiss you? Important detail.”
Mallory blew out a breath. “What do you think?”
“Hope made the move,” Hunter said with confidence. “Trust me on this.”
Brooklyn placed a solemn hand across her chest. “Young female hearts are breaking all over Soho tonight. You realize that, right?”
Mallory rolled her eyes. “Please. It was one kiss, an isolated incident. It’s never going to happen again.”
“Whatever you say, Mal. Whatever you say,” Hunter said, smiling.
Well, that was enough of that. “I’m going to go settle up with Marcus and see if they need any help tearing down,” Mallory said, and without waiting for a response, headed off toward the house.
“Was there tongue?” Brooklyn called after her.
“What about groping?” Sam echoed. “Where were her hands exactly? Can you show us on a diagram?”
Mallory rolled her eyes and ignored the questions—not that she didn’t have a few of her own about the evening’s happenings and um…her own very visceral response to said happenings. But she meant what she’d said. That beach kiss was a one-time thing, and she should probably make sure Hope knew that. The fact that her lips still tingled and she could still feel sparks the kiss had ignited was far, far beyond the point.
*
Ready or Not Page 5