Anne of Manhattan by Brina Starler

Author:Brina Starler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2021-06-02T00:00:00+00:00

Unable to stop the smile at such a typically Gil sort of greeting, Anne tucked the corner of her towel more securely over her breasts, sat down on the closed toilet lid, and started typing . . .

Chapter 17

They’d been back in the city for a week and a half before Gil finally managed to take Anne out on anything resembling a date. Although he still saw her nearly every day, the only thing that had changed between them was that now when they parted ways after class or their time at Herschel, or after the hours he still haunted the back table at the Lion, he got to kiss her the way he’d been wanting to for years. She leaned into his kisses, her smile curved against his mouth, her small hands always sliding up under the edge of his shirt to touch his lower back. It was a comforting, affectionate touch, but the feel of her skin against his, even just the tips of her fingers pressed against the flesh just above the waistband of his jeans, set him on fire.

He wanted more, so much more, of her.

Their schedules finally aligned one Saturday evening, when he managed to get a swing shift at the bar, and she had an unheard-of weekend day off from the bookstore. Checking the clock over the wall of booze behind him, Gil realized his shift had flown by, and was suddenly filled with a nervous energy. To keep his mind off the clock ticking down, he started refilling the drinks garnishes, grabbing a handful of limes and setting to work slicing them into wedges. His concentration on his task was so complete, he nearly cut right into his finger when Anne slid onto the stool in front of him and tapped the bar with two fingers.

“Hello, barkeep. One iced tea with lemon, please.” She grinned when he looked up.

“Welcome to Kindred Spirits, ma’am,” Gil said flippantly, reaching over to grab a tall glass. “Barkeep?”

“I’ve always wanted to use that on someone but didn’t want them to think I was weird.”

“Well, I already think you’re weird.”

“Which is why I got to try it out on you,” she explained, as if it was obvious. “Almost done? Only, the movie starts in about forty minutes.”

“Yup.” He finished slicing up the rest of the fruit in short order, then pulled off his apron and tossed it in the dirty linen hamper on the shelf under the bar top. Shrugging into his jacket, Gil adjusted a flat, gray cap over his curls, and threw the night shift bartender a salute before coming around to join Anne.

She swiveled on her stool as he approached, looking like something he could eat, in a pair of pink jeans and slim shirt with tiny, golden skulls printed all over it. When he stopped in front of her, she reached up and tapped the brim of his cap lightly with one finger. “Why are guys who wear cabbie hats so hot?”

“If I’d realized

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