by L. K. Gandy
“Good luck with that one. You’d have to saw off my legs and shove them up my ass to keep me from killing you for even thinking of taking a single pair!”
“I mean—that can be arranged.”
“Oh shut up you hooker, and help me pick out an outfit already. Besides, we both know you’d lose in a fight with me. What shirt should I wear with these?” I pulled my shortest pair of white shorts from my dresser and held them up against my body while looking in the full-length mirror.
“Hmm…let’s see. Oh! Where’s that red tank that we both love so much? Your tan skin and wavy dirty blonde hair will stand out perfectly with it.” She scans the hangers with her pointer finger looking for the flowing top. When she finds it, her eyes light up with excitement. “Ahh…perfection. Especially with these boots.” She hands me a dark brown pair that have cream colored floral patterned stitching on them. I take them from her and change while she’s perusing for an outfit for herself. That’s another perk of having a best friend that’s the same size as you- your closet is twice as big from being able to share with each other. “So you said you found a flyer for this bar in your purse the other day but don’t remember where you picked it up?”
“Yeah, it’s the strangest thing. I know we’ve been there before and had a great time but I don’t remember ever seeing a flyer for it or picking one up and putting it in my purse. Who knows, I could be losing my mind. Speaking of losing my damn mind,” I turn toward her with my shorts around my knees. “I can’t stop thinking about Branson.”
“Branson? Bar hottie Branson? Sultry, tall, sexual chemistry, panty dropping Branson?” Charlee’s eyebrows seem to have taken on a life of their own and have gone into a fit of convulsions on her forehead.
“Yes to all of the above. Good Lord that man was nice to look at, and his voice… I told you about his voice right?” I pull my shorts up the rest of the way.
“His deep sensual voice dripping with sex you mean? Yes I heard all about it, but I’d love to hear more. How does this look?” She had picked out denim shorts with a ruffled turquoise spaghetti strap tank top and a pair of black boots that stopped mid-calf that were made to look like they’ve been worn a million times before.
“Amazing, but if you scuff those fucking boots you owe me seven hundred bucks. That or your first born child, your choice. Ready to hit the town? We look hot enough to be in a CMT music video! Where’s Luke Bryan when you need him?”
“What else is new bitch? Hell, we always look this good. But seriously, where is he?” Charlee walks over to the mirror, and we look at ourselves standing next to each other.
“Damn girl? Can I get yo’ numba?”
“Hell yes! Let’s go already. It’s time for some dancing and margaritas!”
The taxi ride to the bar was a short one since I lived right on the outskirts of downtown Nashville. We paid the driver and made our way to the door but the line to go inside was starting to wrap around the old brick building.
“Damn, we’re going to be stuck outside for about half an hour,” Charlee whined.
“Like hell we are, just follow me and make a sexy face.” I walk up to the husky bouncer and flash him a smile when he looks my way. His eyes run the length of my toned body; he smiles like a horny teenage boy and lets out a low whistle. Gross.
“Hellooo sweet thing,” he said dragging out the ‘o’ with his bulbous lips. “Damn y’all are lookin’ good tonight! What can Big Rob do for ya?” Oh great, he has his own pet name.
“Big Rob is it? Well Big Rob, my friend and I are tryin’ to have a good time tonight. Is there any way you can just let us slide past you so we can do that?” I put my arm around Charlee’s waist and we both smile up at him with our heads touching. This shit always works.
“With pretty things like you lovin’ on each other and smiling at me it’s gettin’ hard to think straight.” He scratches the back of his head. “What’s in it for Big Rob?”
“I’ll tell you what’s in it for you.” I lean forward to whisper in his ear and drag my finger down the top of his chest. His reaction to my words are exactly what I thought would happen.
“Hey now, there’s no need for that. Y’all go on in and have a good time.” He waves us in with frantic eyes, then turns away anxiously and goes back to talking to people in line while we step inside.
“Sawyer, what the hell was that? What’d you say to him?”
“Oh you know, that I was a lawyer and his implied suggestion that our favorable treatment depending upon ‘cooperation’ would result in a lawsuit, no big deal,” I said nonchalantly but with a wink.
“That’s my girl! Now get your ass to the bar it’s time for shots.”
The place is starting to get crowded like most Friday nights are but we make our way inside quickly. We luck out in grabbing two seats in front of the dark mahogany bar and sit down.
“Welcome to Whiskey’s. What’ll it be gals?” the bartender asks. She is short with a long blonde bob haircut, an ample chest, and an overly perky attitude. She is smacking gum and looks like she just chugged a Red Bull about five minutes ago. It’s starting to take effect the way her eyes are bugging out of her skull. Great, a wannabe overly excited cheerleader type. I never did like cheerleaders.
“We’ll start out with four red-headed sluts and margaritas on the rocks, top shelf, with salt,” Charlee requests.
“Absolutely! Comin’ right up gals.”
“If she calls us ‘gals’ with that annoying mouse voice one more fucking time I’ll lay her bubbly ass out,” I whisper to Charlee before turning to look around. The bar we’re at lines the wall at the backside of the room with a large dance floor in the middle. Saddles are hanging from the ceiling covered in pieces of mirror with lights reflecting off of them acting as chandeliers. Above those you can see the rafters and large pipes, but they’re painted black to blend in. A stage is set up in front of the dance floor opposite us so that the band is playing facing the bar with a giant “WHISKEY’S” neon sign that proudly displays the bar’s name and off to the side is a padded area complete with a mechanical bull.
“There ya go gals. Want me to start a tab?” Oh Lord, please help me. Before I can clench my fist to hit this bitch Charlee answers for us.
“Thanks hon, yeah a tab would be great.” We take our shots easily and start right away on the margaritas.
“I can already tell we’re goin’ to have some fun tonight lady. We’re overdue for one, that’s for damn sure.” We get up from the bar to walk around the best we can, trying to make our way to the dance floor. A band is starting to play covers of newer country music on stage, and we want to be closer. They alternate between two lead singers, a short man in his late twenties and a tall blonde that looks like she just missed the cutoff age to get in. The girl starts to sing Kerosene by Miranda Lambert when Charlee pipes up.
“You ready for some more shots? I’m going to find a shot girl.”
I nod my head so Charlee makes her way around the crowd and finds one right away. The workers are hard to miss with their lack of clothing. And I thought my shorts were small. Theirs put mine to shame, especially with their tiny tops that reveal their entire stomach.
“Here, drink this,” she says when she hands me a tall skinny tube filled with pink liquid.
“Famous last words, huh?” We tip them back and hand the girl back the glasses. “Hey Charlee, I just want to say thanks again for letting me have time to myself last weekend. I think sometimes that’s one thing I have to deal with on my own, no offense.”
“None taken, hell Sawyer all you have to do is ask. I don’t even know how you deal with a loss like that. You’re the strongest woman I know.” We hug because that’s the only thing we can think to do that will help the situation. “Alright, enough of that shit. Two more shots, then let’s dance! Time to shimmy a titty.” The bar had line dances for certain songs, and we remembered one from our last visit here, but other than that we had to watch other people and slowly pick them up. When
it comes to dancing with a partner Charlee and I are quickly swept away by the nearest guy. Lucky for us they all happened to be cute tonight.
I am dancing with a man around my age wearing a red flannel shirt and Wranglers when the tempo slows down. Your Everything by Keith Urban starts playing and he smiles, gesturing to me as if to ask if I still want to dance with him. Hell, why not? I am starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, so slowing down and resting my head on his shoulder won’t be such a bad idea. We have just started to dance when he moves to look up and stare at something. Curious, but not wanting to make him feel awkward I keep my eyes where they are, which is looking around for Charlee. We always seem to be whisked across the dance floor away from each other. That’s when I hear a voice and my knees buckle. That can’t be the same voice that has haunted my dreams for the past week, can it?
“Mind if I cut in?” My heart starts pounding, my breath shortens, and I can feel my hands starting to sweat. How do these things automatically happen just from hearing someone talk? Fuck, I need to get it together.I nod my head to my current dance partner, and he kisses the top of my hand before leaving to find another woman to dance with. My body is frozen in place, and I can’t make myself turn around, so I stand there until I see a tall body walk in front of me. Looking up I swear my heart skips a beat…or maybe I am just having a heart attack. I’m pretty sure either event would feel the same way. I might need a doctor.
“I told you we’d be spending some more time together,” Branson said with a flirty smile. If I thought he looked delicious in a suit, then he is a tall glass of my granny’s sweet tea in boots, a tight blue plaid shirt tucked into a pair of even tighter Wranglers and a cream colored cowboy hat. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone make a cowboy hat look that damn good.
“What are you doing, stalking me? How did you know I’d be here?” I try to speak in an offended manner but all that came out was elation, like a little fucking school girl. Damn you alcohol, always getting the best of me.
“Oh, you know, just a lucky guess. I figured you would want to check this place out after seeing the flyer in your purse.” He looked down at me with the biggest grin on his sexy face like he was proud of some big accomplishment.
“What the hell? How did…wait just a minute? You little bastard, YOU put that in my purse?” I put my hands on my hips to try and look upset, but honestly I am far from it. He wanted to see me again so badly that he planted the flyer there for me to find later. What a cocky son of a bitch, and he proves it by giving me his deep throaty laugh.
“I’m sure it’s the alcohol, but the look on your face is one that’s far from anger. Something tells me you’re glad to see me, too. Hell, maybe even that you missed me,” he whispers the last part in my ear sending chills down my body. I can’t help but to lean my head toward him and close my eyes, listening to the music. And as if he can read my mind, he wraps his large hands around my tiny waist. My body shivers with him at his nearness, but I revel in it and slide my hands up his muscled arms. YUM! I’ve always loved a good pair of arms on a man.
“Mmm…I did miss you.” My eyes pop open, and I look around frantically. SHIT. Did I just say that out loud? No, please no. Prying my eyes upward to see his reaction I should have known what it’d be. I’m awarded with another one of his gorgeous smiles, and his green eyes on my lips.
“I missed you too Sawyer. Honestly, I can’t stop thinking about you since you drove off and left me deserted on the side of the street to fend for myself.” He leans closer to me so his lips are on my ear. “I’m still waiting for that race - but I’m going to warn you right now, I play dirty.” Shit. Between my now overactive hormones, vivid imagination, and the alcohol, I’ll be lucky if I make it out of this bar with my clothes on after hearing that. He straightens up and looks at me before asking, “May I have this dance?”
Words have failed me at this point, and all I can do is nod my head. We quickly melt into one another’s bodies listening to the lyrics and feeling the electricity pass between us as we slowly move to the music. I can’t remember the last time I felt this safe in someone’s arms, or when my mind has been this clear. The thoughts scare me.
“Pssstttt. HEY! PSSTTTT!” What the hell? “Sawyer!” I look around trying to figure out who is talking to me, better yet, yelling at me. Branson turns me in the direction of the noise, and I see Charlee hanging off of Red Flannel Guy. He sure knows how to pick the best ladies in this place, that’s for sure.
“Do you know that girl?” He looks at me curiously.
“Sawyer! There you are. HOLY SHIT, look at this guy,” she says, now directly in front of us pointing and openly staring at Branson as if I can’t see who I’m dancing with. She turns her face toward me and mouths ‘DAMN’ before turning back to look at him. “Hey there good lookin’ my name’s Charlee,” she says slurring her words a bit and holding out her hand for him to shake. But with him being as tall as he is her hand is now directly in front of his johnson. “You must be drop your panties Branson…wait, that’s not right,” she says shaking her head frantically with her eyes closed. “Branson you dropped your panties? Nope, that’s not it either.” She sways a little and starts to giggle. “Oh, I got it, I got it!” she exclaims. “You’re the ‘panty dropping’ sexy Branson, am I right or am I right? We all know I’m right. Every girl in this fucking bar knows I’m right.” She waves her hands around pointing at every nearby woman to make a point. “She does, she does, hell even her…wait, is that a…beard…she has a beard. Fuck it,” she says throwing her hands up in exasperation, “even the bearded lady.”
Branson starts to laugh and takes her hand in his. “I don’t usually go by those vivid descriptions you’ve painted of me but for tonight, why not? I liked ‘Branson you dropped your panties’ the most though. It’s nice to meet you Charlee. You seem to be having a good time here at Whiskey’s, let me know if there’s anything we can do for you.”
“What do you mean ‘we’?” I ask.
“I own this bar, and as owner I want to make sure our customers are satisfied.” He turns his gaze onto me. “Are you satisfied Sawyer?” All I can see are emerald shaded eyes questioning me in a way that I know goes much deeper than the stated question. An image of him satisfying me in more ways than one come to mind before being interrupted by Charlee’s drunk ass yelling.
“You’re telling me he’s hot, owns a bar, AND he drops his panties? You caught a good one right here lady.” Alright, now I know she’s drunk if she thinks I already ‘caught’ this man. Not to mention she’s now in a fit of giggles repeatedly whispering ‘panties’ to herself. Great.
“Maybe we should get you home. You can stay with me tonight.”
“Oooh, I LOVE slumber parties! Let’s go, please, please, please, please, please!” Yep. That’s my cue. I turn toward Branson to tell him goodbye for the night. “Panty boy can come over too. Let him come over,” she begs.
“Maybe another time, I’m sure he’s busy making sure people are satisfied for the night,” I say playfully to him, wishing I was the only one he was worried about satisfying tonight.
“Unfortunately for me you’re right, maybe another time. I’ve got some important plans this weekend anyway. But I would love to take you to lunch sometime this week if you’re available. The bar doesn’t open until later so I know I’m free during the day. And what is it that you do for a living,” he implores.
“I’m a lawyer at the Baxley & Turner law firm on Howard Street downtown. I’m usually free around noon.”
“I guess I’ll see you sometime this week then,” he says while laying his hand on the side of my cheek sending chills to cover my body once again. I think this may be a sensation I’ll never get used to but would very much like to try. Especially since just being in his presence gives me chills.
“I guess so.” I close my eyes and lean into his hand, wishing we were alone to see where these emotions that are starting to surface lead us. It’s been a while since I’ve been comfortab
le enough around a man to even fathom the idea of some sort of relationship, but Branson is working his way not only into my mind- he’s working his way into my heart as well. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not, since we’ve only known each other a week but something that feels this right can’t be wrong.
“Just kiss her already, shit. You know you want to. Hell, I want you to…it’d be hot. DO IT!” There goes my moment, thanks Charlee.
“Let’s get you out of here before you start yelling for us to ‘do it all night long’.” Branson gives me a confused look before I wave him off, “It’s happened before. When we’re both drunk we get pretty crude.”
“Do you need me to call you a cab? I’d offer to take you home but tonight is pretty busy and I have a few new waitresses that I’m keeping an eye on so things go smoothly.”
“I think we’ll manage, but thank you.” Damn, why does he have to be busy? “We just need to pay our tab, and we’ll be ready to go.”
“No need. It’s on the house.”
“Are you sure? You really don’t need to do that.”
“Of course, anything for you Sawyer. Be careful please, I’m looking forward to our lunch date.” He leans in confidently and kisses my cheek. The warmth coming from his soft lips seeps into my skin and lingers there. “Have a good night ladies. Charlee, it was nice to meet you. Sawyer.” He tips his hat at my name and makes his way back to the bar. Sigh. How can one word stir up so many sensations? I’m thinking lunch might become my new favorite meal, starting this coming week.
“JAXX, HAVE YOU SEEN MY diamond earrings? I can’t find them anywhere.” Where the hell are those damn things? I always put them back in the same spot after wearing them, and now I can’t find them. I’ll kill Charlee if she took them again without asking me first.