When they found a spot at the bar, the bartender was chatting up a couple at the far end as he mixed their drinks. North eyed the bottles against the mirror. He scanned the room, saw what he was looking for, and went back to the bottles. Shaw’s hands jittered on the bar. North waited for the explosion.

“I want you to show me one Girl Scout who can drink a Long Island iced tea—”

Of course, that was when the bartender drifted over to them. He was pretty in an all-biceps kind of way, and his white tee was trim and had sleeves cuffed to show off his arms. The way his gaze ran over them and then backed up to run over North a second time explained his smile.

“Hey.”

North smiled. “How’s it going?”

“A lot better right now. I’m Jack. Can I get you something?”

“Whiskey sour, beautiful.”

Jack’s smirk was practically a phone number on a bathroom stall. His eyes left tire tracks on North.

“Two,” Shaw said, squeezing right up next to North and displaying two fingers as though to confirm. “Make it two.”

Jesus Christ, North thought, trying to keep his smile in place. “I guess one for my friend, then. Even though he probably shouldn’t be trying to make this point right now. In this place. Tonight.”

Jack’s smile had gone about ten degrees cooler. “Your friend?” he asked as he held up a bottle of Buffalo Trace.

North nodded a yes to both questions. “Just a friend. Right, Shaw?”

“Well, yeah. Of course.”

That stoked Jack’s furnace a little, and when he finished mixing the drinks, he lingered, elbow on the bar, fluttering some very nice lashes. North wondered if the boy used mascara.

“Busy night,” Shaw said. He cupped his drink like he was afraid it was going to bite him.

“Yeah.” Jack’s eyes didn’t leave North, and North was careful to keep the hand with the wedding band in his pocket. “You going to be around in a few minutes? I’ve got a smoke break.” Then he had that bathroom-stall smirk again. “I could meet you out back.”

“It’s really, really busy,” Shaw said, leaning between them. “I think that lady down there is trying to get your attention.”

Jack’s eyes cut to Shaw, and he said, “Yeah, all right. Why don’t you try your drink?”

“I just think she wants something from you right now.”

“I know how to do my job.”

“Right, it’s just, well, you don’t really seem to know how to do your job because you’re standing here trying to eye-fuck my—”

“Take a drink, Shaw.” North bumped Shaw’s arm, and whiskey slopped over Shaw’s wrist.

Jack grimaced, batted those big lashes again, and pulled back from the bar.

North caught his wrist. “Hold on. Sorry about that.”

“This isn’t some kind of weird three-way thing is it? I’m not down for that. Is he like your boyfriend and he wants to watch, or he gets off on you cheating on him, or what? The whole thing is getting fucking weird, and I’ve got to work.”