Love Unscripted
Page 8
Ryan cleared his throat when I returned. “Well, you obviously know who I am. Can I ask what your name is?” His tone was very polite and friendly.
“Taryn,” I replied, glancing at him for a split second through the curtain of hair that spilled from my shoulder. I pulled my hair back out of my way and tried to refocus my eyes on putting away the clean glasses that remained on the sink counter.
“It’s nice to meet you, Taryn.”
“It’s nice to meet you too.” My nervousness made my responses sound unintentionally indifferent.
“So, Taryn, do you have a last name?”
“Mitchell?” I squeaked. So much for appearing casual and un-ruffled!
“Ah, I see,” he murmured as he held up the bar napkin with Mitchell’s Pub insignia on it. “Are you sure you don’t mind if I stay for a few minutes?
Then I promise I’ll be out of your hair.”
“It’s no problem, really,” I whispered, giving him a brief, friendly smile.
My nerves were tangled in knots so I had to keep busy. I grabbed a new liquor order form and took it to the other end of the bar to fill it out.
I could feel him watching me, even though I refused to look up and confirm that feeling. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn this top today? Could he see down the front when I bent over? I fixed my shirt at the shoulders, trying to inconspicuously see if I could see any cleavage. I’ll have to change my shirt after he leaves. His beer is almost finished.
I tried not to make eye contact with him, but I could still tell that he was staring; his head turned and followed every move I made. I felt a little strange as he gawked at me, so I picked up the television remote and turned the large flat screen on; maybe he needed something else to look at.
But he didn’t seem to notice the television.
I allowed myself another quick look at him and observed that his brow was pulled together. He looked confused; either that or he was deep in thought.
“Are you doing okay?” I asked, concerned.
“Yeah, I think so.” He nodded and combed his fingers back through his hair. “I was just wondering, are you always this talkative?”
I was trying to appear preoccupied by filling the garnish holder with drink swizzle straws. I smiled bashfully at his comment.
“I thought you’d prefer to be left alone. I’m sure the silence and peace must be refreshing,” I murmured, assuming he’d agree.
He laughed lightly at my comment.
“It is, but it’s also nice to be able to talk to a woman who isn’t screaming at me,” he said, looking a bit more relaxed. “You’re not going to scream at me, are you?”
“No,” I said in my softest, non-threatening tone. That’s when I noticed the laceration on his face.
“Are you sure you’re okay? I don’t know if you realize it, but you have a pretty big scratch on your face.” Now that I was able to actually look at him more closely, I saw the dried streak of blood that ran down his neck.
Ryan rubbed his eyes and sighed heavily. “Unbelievable,” he murmured.
I opened up the first aid kit I kept behind the bar and picked out an alcohol swab.
“Is it that bad?” he asked.
I nodded gently. “There’s some blood. It’s not that bad, but you should clean it just in case.”
“I can feel it,” Ryan muttered as he ran his fingers over the raised marks. “My jaw hurts.”
“Don’t touch it,” I cautioned, pulling the first aid kit closer. I attempted to hand him the swab, but he seemed perfectly fine with letting me tend to him.“
Um, can you tilt a little bit more?” I asked nervously. My hand trembled slightly as I wiped the swab across his wound, trying to be as gentle as possible. There were actually two distinct fingernail marks across his jaw, though the stubble on his face covered most of it up. I saw his eyes scrunch together; the alcohol must have stung a little.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Almost done.”
Ryan was gazing at my face while I put some antibiotic cream over the raised scratches. I noticed his eye color was a lovely mix of blue and green, making them very striking. It was hard to look at anything else.
“Thanks,” he said, softly and sincerely.
I wiped the remaining cream off my finger. “I don’t mean to be intrusive, but may I ask what happened to you today?” Secretly I was dying to know how he got in this condition.
“Um,” he began, “I had some errands to run but I guess I didn’t get too far.” A broken smile appeared on his lips as he scratched his eyebrow with his thumb. “It’s actually a bit embarrassing.”
“Taryn,” I replied, glancing at him for a split second through the curtain of hair that spilled from my shoulder. I pulled my hair back out of my way and tried to refocus my eyes on putting away the clean glasses that remained on the sink counter.
“It’s nice to meet you, Taryn.”
“It’s nice to meet you too.” My nervousness made my responses sound unintentionally indifferent.
“So, Taryn, do you have a last name?”
“Mitchell?” I squeaked. So much for appearing casual and un-ruffled!
“Ah, I see,” he murmured as he held up the bar napkin with Mitchell’s Pub insignia on it. “Are you sure you don’t mind if I stay for a few minutes?
Then I promise I’ll be out of your hair.”
“It’s no problem, really,” I whispered, giving him a brief, friendly smile.
My nerves were tangled in knots so I had to keep busy. I grabbed a new liquor order form and took it to the other end of the bar to fill it out.
I could feel him watching me, even though I refused to look up and confirm that feeling. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn this top today? Could he see down the front when I bent over? I fixed my shirt at the shoulders, trying to inconspicuously see if I could see any cleavage. I’ll have to change my shirt after he leaves. His beer is almost finished.
I tried not to make eye contact with him, but I could still tell that he was staring; his head turned and followed every move I made. I felt a little strange as he gawked at me, so I picked up the television remote and turned the large flat screen on; maybe he needed something else to look at.
But he didn’t seem to notice the television.
I allowed myself another quick look at him and observed that his brow was pulled together. He looked confused; either that or he was deep in thought.
“Are you doing okay?” I asked, concerned.
“Yeah, I think so.” He nodded and combed his fingers back through his hair. “I was just wondering, are you always this talkative?”
I was trying to appear preoccupied by filling the garnish holder with drink swizzle straws. I smiled bashfully at his comment.
“I thought you’d prefer to be left alone. I’m sure the silence and peace must be refreshing,” I murmured, assuming he’d agree.
He laughed lightly at my comment.
“It is, but it’s also nice to be able to talk to a woman who isn’t screaming at me,” he said, looking a bit more relaxed. “You’re not going to scream at me, are you?”
“No,” I said in my softest, non-threatening tone. That’s when I noticed the laceration on his face.
“Are you sure you’re okay? I don’t know if you realize it, but you have a pretty big scratch on your face.” Now that I was able to actually look at him more closely, I saw the dried streak of blood that ran down his neck.
Ryan rubbed his eyes and sighed heavily. “Unbelievable,” he murmured.
I opened up the first aid kit I kept behind the bar and picked out an alcohol swab.
“Is it that bad?” he asked.
I nodded gently. “There’s some blood. It’s not that bad, but you should clean it just in case.”
“I can feel it,” Ryan muttered as he ran his fingers over the raised marks. “My jaw hurts.”
“Don’t touch it,” I cautioned, pulling the first aid kit closer. I attempted to hand him the swab, but he seemed perfectly fine with letting me tend to him.“
Um, can you tilt a little bit more?” I asked nervously. My hand trembled slightly as I wiped the swab across his wound, trying to be as gentle as possible. There were actually two distinct fingernail marks across his jaw, though the stubble on his face covered most of it up. I saw his eyes scrunch together; the alcohol must have stung a little.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Almost done.”
Ryan was gazing at my face while I put some antibiotic cream over the raised scratches. I noticed his eye color was a lovely mix of blue and green, making them very striking. It was hard to look at anything else.
“Thanks,” he said, softly and sincerely.
I wiped the remaining cream off my finger. “I don’t mean to be intrusive, but may I ask what happened to you today?” Secretly I was dying to know how he got in this condition.
“Um,” he began, “I had some errands to run but I guess I didn’t get too far.” A broken smile appeared on his lips as he scratched his eyebrow with his thumb. “It’s actually a bit embarrassing.”
