Burners.”
Mickey looked at Lydia directly. She had never seen anyone with violet colored eyes before. He could not be any more handsome if he tried. She was coming unglued. “Now what, pray tell,” he began smoothly, “are Barn Burners?”
Lydia’s voice warbled as she answered. “They’re shooters. A secret recipe. Well, a recipe with a secret ingredient.”
Mickey grinned. Of course he had perfectly white, even teeth. “Same thing, isn’t it?”
“Not sure. I’d be happy to give you the recipe. Berna, the owner’s wife—well she’s the owner too technically ‘cuz she’s married to him—”
Mickey interrupted her. “Oh not so, I’m afraid. Montana is not a community property state. But any way, you were saying.”
“Yes, anyway, Berna made up the shooters and she’s put in a special blend of ingredient. We just have a bottle of it in the well “
“Berna’s Barn Burners,” Mickey recited.
“Yep.”
“Well if you’re serving them, I’ll drink them. Line ‘em up.” He smiled. In all her limited experience and slightly broader imagination, Lydia had never met a person who had this kind of effect on her. It was sort of a cruel thing for any man she met next. There was no way she was going to feel this again.
“This might ruin your appetite,” Lydia cautioned. “We probably should wait until after supper. But I suppose one won’t hurt.”
“My appetite is fine,” Mickey assured her. He was most definitely flirting. Lydia’s breath caught in her chest as she moved behind the counter and laid out shot glasses, enough for all.
She poured with finesse, deftly tipping the spouts and counting to measured precision as she replicated the eatery’s signature drink. Mickey and the others sidled up behind the anchored bar stools and knocked back the glasses. They shook their heads and hissed with approval. Lydia poured two, one for Dean and one for Royce. Mickey flicked one of towards her. “Have one.” Lydia hesitated. She wasn’t much of a drinker, especially since the last time she had a Barn Burner, but she indulged. She threw the shooter back and contracted as the contents made its way down her to her stomach. She drew hard through her nose. Mickey grinned. “Good stuff, missy.”
Lydia and the men were wobbly. “What is in this stuff?” Mickey asked as he tried to get his sea legs. “There is a definitely a hallucinogen afoot.”
“ Something ,” said another struggling rider.
“It only lasts a sec. It gets better,” Lydia promised. She didn’t move. Just pressed her finger tips to the counter to gain composure.
“This was most definitely an after dinner drink,” Mickey remarked.
“Food will make it better,” Lydia replied and already the peak of the buzz was receding. “There,” she said. The riders shook their heads a second time.
“Damn,” Mickey proclaimed as he leaned on a bar stool. “I am going to have to patent this if Berna doesn’t beat me to it.”
“You steal Berna’s recipe, she’ll beat you alright,” Lydia quipped. Mickey’s hands were slow and sure, but quick enough. He took hold of her hips and pulled her to him.
“She will, will she? Should I be afraid?” he murmured. All of it left her unable to answer the question.
“I– I—” she stammered.
“I think we ought to take a pass on those beers and go sit down,” Mickey had his arms now tangled around the small of her back. The chemistry that transpired all but knocked out the rest of the world. It truly felt like they were the only two at Ollie’s Eatery.
“How about some iced tea?” Lydia suggested.
“I’ll get the glasses and you get the pitcher,” he answered. Still composing herself from the Barn Burner, Lydia reached in the cooler and pulled out the tea while Mickey pinched plastic tumblers off their pyramid tidily stacked on shelves behind the counter. In one trip, he
Anderson Cooper, Gloria Vanderbilt