Chapter 7
The hell does he mean “wooed?” Yes, that’s sort of the point, but he makes it sound like a bad thing.
The shock lasted for a split second, and then the smile was back. Clark nodded his head and grabbed for the discarded towel. “Of course. Best bar food in the city.” Clark winked and played hard on the no harm, no foul line.
Daniel nodded, got off his stool, gathered his things, and walked toward the door. Clark didn’t watch Daniel leave; instead, he kept his gaze down on his hand rubbing slow circles with the towel. He went utterly still for three solid breaths, and then he grabbed Daniel’s dirty dishware and put it in the sink beneath the bar. Clearing his mind was more difficult than usual, but he helped himself by cheerfully pouring another beer for a regular.