gaze away from his rugged face and toward the back of the bar. “Whiskey. You don’t happen to have any Ransom, do you? The Emerald?” The man was already moving. Without even looking, he plucked up a familiar bottle. “Rocks or neat?” “Now why would I want to dilute that beautiful flavor?” He chuckled, the action making the thick, dark-blond scruff around his mouth twitch. “A woman who knows what she likes.” I slid off my leather jacket, letting it fall to the back of the stool, and set my phone on the bar. “That a good thing?” “Always.” The bartender grabbed a glass and gave me a healthy pour.
Eye roll this book is so dumb
