“That’s a shame. A beautiful woman drinking whisky is my weakness.” The water glass in my hand bobbled and I nearly spilled it on my apron. I’d heard a lot of pickup lines standing behind this bar, and I’d mastered the art of turning down a man without bruising his ego—or losing his tip. But I’d be a fool to dodge that line. “Then maybe I’ll give it another try.” “I’d like that.” He smiled wider as he reached across the bar, his long fingers leading the way. “I’m Logan.” I placed my hand in his, already lost in the fairy tale. “Thea.”
