"Peg, you're a saint." He promised as she reached up and got the bottle he'd missed. Bucky could just tell by the color that it was the good stuff, aged just right. "Moves don't hurt either. I can't tell you how many dames I made swoon with just the right step." He pointed out.
A little smile played over his lips when he put the freshly poured glass beneath his nose. "I know he did. I see the look in his eyes." He wasn't an oblivious man at all. He swallowed a sip with a soft groan of pleasure. "That's good."