There he stood. His strong jaw-line lightly stubbled.
The clothing set-off his natural ruggedness. Leather so creamy and soft, camel-color oiled and with that worn look associated with hard work; not the affectation so many men work to create.
His hands, callused from years of working the Erie Canal waterways, have that thick sausage texture adding to his strong appearance.
Shipping work flowed through his veins. His father and his male grandparents and brothers worked for many years for that same company until last year. That was when the ore tanker Griselda Mae sank, killing his two brothers and his father.
No one in the tavern knew this about Champ. All the men saw was a guy in a leather jacket looking around, surveying the room. All that the women saw was his physique, and wondered what thrills lay in store for them during a night with him.
Slowly, he walked over to a barstool and ordered a depth charge with a side shot. Removing his jacket revealed his well-contoured chest and slim waist. The muscles of his arms showed clearly through the thin layer of covering flesh. Along his right forearm, a thick vein bulged.
Jessica took note of all this with rapt interest as she sat in the corner booth sipping her drink.
He tossed down the one shot with no visible effect showing on his face. Then he dropped charge into the beer, and commenced to sip and think.
As one drink became three, and his deep thoughts took him to far-off places, he felt Jessica’s eyes on him from her seat. Champ didn’t turn to her, though. The only movement she noted was his apparently unconscious habit of making rings on the counter with the condensation from the beer mug.
Jessica waved to Fiona to bring her another shot of Wild Turkey. When Fiona delivered the drink Jessica whispered to her to bring the gentleman another of whatever he is drinking. Fiona whispered back how she had eyes on the new guy, too. Jessica playfully slapped Fiona’s arm, as she turned to make the drink order.
Champ mulled over what lay in his future as the waitress presented him with another depth charge.
“Compliments of Jessica over there, hon,” Fiona said smiling and indicating the corner booth.
“Thanks,” Champ said as he lifted his drink in Jessica’s direction. She waved and smiled at him sweetly, an unspoken invitation.
Champ remained in his seat, finishing his drink, still deep in thought. Emotions danced across his mind, though no one could tell from his stoic expression. So deep was his thought that he didn’t notice the disappointed look on Jessica’s face.
After a time Jessica let go thoughts of this handsome man and turned her attention to the miniature juke-box selector in her booth. After dropping coins in and choosing a series of ballads Jessica sipped her drink and spluttered as Champ sat opposite her.
“Again, thanks for the drink. Can I return the favor?” he said softly. Jessica felt a rush as his deep raspy voice touched a chord inside her chest making her inhale deeply.
“Sure. I’ll take a fruit punch special.”
He smiled and turned to find Fiona approaching. Champ placed the order, then turned back to Jessica, taking in her physique.
Her eyes were a dazzling shade of blue surrounded by too much make-up. Hair held back with rubber bands had that chestnut color so many women crave. Jessica’s lips were thin and pink with only one flaw: Her upper lip was scarred. Champ figured there was an interesting story behind that scar.
Jessica smiled, noticing the silence. Surprisingly, she felt very calm as his eyes roved her body. She knew she did not possess the body of a beauty pageant winner. As such she long-ago accepted this truth. She simply got over it and focused on other aspects of her life, such as finding a handsome man to share time with her.
Suddenly a thrill moved through her belly as his eyes settled on her breasts. Few men ogle her breasts, their diminutive size not an instant attraction. Most men, she found, wanted a woman with cushion-like melons to fondle. Yet this guy was different. Besides, she was checking him out at the same time, filing away the details of his smile.
“You smile sweet. I like a man who can smile soft and easy. I guess you like what you see, huh?” she asked without the tone indicating she was fishing for a compliment. Merely pointing out that his eyes hadn’t left her bosom.
“As a matter of fact, Jessica, I do. Especially your. . . what did you think I was going to say, woman?” he smiled as her eyes grew wide for a moment.
“Well, dude, I could have sworn you were going to say something about my chest, to be honest,” Jessica said, her eyes not moving from his, even though his eyes kept staring at her breasts. It was then she looked down and saw what held his attention.
