Chapter 134: Bar chat

ALISON

"Wet Pussy."

"Leg Spreader."

"Sex in the Jungle."

"Sex on the Farm."

"No way. I call bullshit." Noah leaned back and scowled at me. "There's no such drink as Sex on the Farm. You just scrambled when you couldn't think of anything, and you riffed on my Sex in the Jungle."

I pointed my finger at him. "You'd be wrong, mag man, because it just so happens there is so a cocktail of that name."

He smirked. "Oh, really? What's in it? Hayseed and ninety proof?"

"Nope. It's made of vodka, peach schnapps, cranberry juice and orange juice." I smiled triumphantly.

"What the hell does any of that have to do with a farm?"

I shrugged. "I have no idea. Maybe someone made it up on a farm. Or maybe because it has peaches, cranberries and oranges in it."

"That doesn't make any sense." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Have you ever even drunk-you know, Sex on the Farm?"