she did was meaningful. Making people’s crazy lives a bit more manageable mattered. But there were days she felt like nothing more than a pizza delivery driver.
Today happened to be one of those days. So she’d braved the end-of-winter temperatures to come to the Crow’s Nest, looking for a cold beer and a fun night out, and she wasn’t about to be cock-blocked by a bartender with rooster envy.
“To be clear,” Beckett said, loud enough for the bar to hear, “are you anti–people with special needs, or anti–war heroes? I just need to clarify your stance, so I know whether or not to support your establishment.”
Levi hitched a brow. “My dad was a vet, my grandfather was a vet, and you know damn well the only thing I object to is your menagerie of bizarre pets shitting in my bar.”
“So, Gregory is being persecuted because he wasn’t born with four legs and a tail, or what society deems as more service-companion-like traits?”
“Your service dogs have never shit in my bar,” he said coolly. “Your other animals don’t have the best track record.”
“That only happened once, and it was because one of your customers fed Larry buffalo wings. Everyone knows llamas are vegans.”
“Once was enough.” He extended a hand, palm up. A big, masculine hand that looked strong and capable. “Show me papers or find another place to haunt.”
“You’re a species elitist.” She snapped her fingers, having an aha moment. “Unless. . . . Are you one of those guys who’s intimidated by a prettier cock?”
“No.”
“You sure? Because Gregory isn’t your everyday, ordinary cock. He’s got more up here”—she tapped a finger to her temple—“than most males. In fact, he’s living proof that a cock can be house-trained. I know, shocking.”
His lips curved into a reluctant grin. And, man, when he grinned, that love/hate line went from fuzzy to forgotten. “Beck, everyone knows a pecker can be trained. Now, a cock on the other hand?” He shrugged. “If you were hoping to see one of those in action, you could have just asked for my number.”
Beckett squirmed, a little flustered by the sexual banter. Because while he was giving her one of his double-dimpled smiles, something in his eyes hinted that he wasn’t joking.
“Noted for next time,” she said, wishing she were wearing anything other than two-day-old jeans and helmet-hair from zipping back and forth across town on her Vespa.
Levi didn’t move an inch as his eyes tracked down to her mouth and lower, taking in everything he could before making the slow trip back up. And if her nipples hadn’t given him a high-five on the descent, then they sure as heck did on his second pass.
“Are you intimidated by a pretty cock?” was all he asked, but his voice was pitched low and sexy, making Beckett’s heart race frantically.
“Not much intimidates me,” she said as casual as can be.
Looking unconvinced, he rested his elbows on the bar, his biceps flexing under the weight as he moved in until their cheeks were nearly touching and his breath teased her earlobe. It teased a whole lot of other places, too. Places that the Bruces of the world could only locate with the help of a hand-drawn map and satellite-powered GPS tracking. Levi did it with a single look. “Noted for next time.”
She laughed. “You’re awful cocky.”
“It’s called confidence, Beck,” he said, and she ignored how much she liked it when he called her that. “Something you wear well.”
A little thrown by his compliment, she let her gaze drift down to study the bar top. Levi flirted with everyone, but he never flirted with her. “Last time, you said I was stubborn.”
“Did I mention I happen to like stubborn?”
No, but her heart was never going to forget it. Neither was her head, because stubborn was one of those qualities, like smart, that men always found sexy until it was focused on someone other than them.
Levi was a born charmer, with a laid-back and easygoing way about him, not to mention he was pretty easy on the eyes. But while he was busy getting to know everyone, she noticed he never gave away anything of himself.
Beckett recognized his particular form of evasiveness. She saw it in the mirror every day when she brushed her teeth.
“No. You also didn’t mention the drink specials,” she said.
“I don’t serve anything in a trough or sipper bottle. But if you want to take your friend home and come back alone, I’ll serve you anything your little heart