Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
“ T oo many puddles in New York. Cars splash you,” I told Brandon, my incredibly good-looking rescuer. “Plus I have very fine hair, so it just flattens.” I gestured to my head, to indicate my straight hair.
“I get that. But do you like making love at midnight on the dunes of the cape? Are you into health food or champagne?”
“What?” I eyed him. I felt like there was a joke I was missing, but that happens to me a lot. I get it like five minutes later when the moment has passed for everyone else. “I mean, who wouldn’t like some sexiness at midnight? Unless you have to get up early.”
Brandon smiled. The corner of his mouth just slid up, like he was trying not to laugh. Definitely I was missing something. Whatever. I had learned a long time ago to not worry about it when a joke went over my head.
“Having to get up early wouldn’t stop me,” he said.
Oh, really? I couldn’t decide if he was flirting with me or making fun of me. I decided it was both, which was fine with me. A little harmless flirtation was a mood enhancer. I shivered and held his jacket closed, trying to get warm. “It’s freezing out here.” I didn’t really mind though. I had escaped Dante and that whole surprise wedding bullshit and there is nothing prettier than Manhattan at Christmas.
We were riding down Fifth Avenue and there were holiday lights up everywhere, twinkling with the backdrop of the trees on one side, high rises on the other. The air was crisp but the vibe was magical. “I can’t believe I’m riding in a carriage. It’s beautiful. I’ve never done this before.”
“Me either.” He reached his arm behind my back. “Here, lean against me for warmth until this guy pulls over. Then we can go grab a coffee.”
I didn’t hesitate to obey his suggestion. He was a solid wall of muscle. He had serious body heat potential. His grip as he pulled me into his dress shirt was firm but not aggressive. He smelled like expensive cologne and confidence.
He was probably a decade older than me if I had to guess and he had big feet. I was staring down at his shoes, wondering if that meant what I thought it did. Not that I should even be thinking about his cock, in any way, but I was curious. I couldn’t help it. I’m a curious person. Leap, then look. That’s me.
Except when it comes to getting married, apparently.
Brandon gave off a little bit of a grumpy vibe. The ultimate gentleman, but just a tad grumpy. Hated parties. Pfft. Seriously, that was not normal.
But he was really hot, and that lack of a smile only made him hotter. He kind of smoldered, and that was really sexy. He had caramel colored hair, cut short, and deep, dark brown eyes.
“I’d love some coffee,” I said, because why wouldn’t I want warm bean juice and the company of this tasty man for another twenty minutes? It was taking the sting off of Dante’s nasty texts. “Look at how beautiful the city looks from this perspective. It’s weird. Sometimes we forget to look around us.”
“Yeah. We do.” Brandon wasn’t looking at holiday lights. He was looking at me.
Lady bits alert. It would be a lie to say I was cold everywhere. Certain parts of me were suddenly very, very warm. His gaze was admiring, intense. I had his full attention and that was pretty damn hot. It had been a long time since I’d seen a man look at me like that.
Maybe never. Because I had mostly dated boys, not men. First, because I’d been young myself, then secondly, because I was in a young industry. Dante was twenty-three. My boyfriend before him had been twenty, an enigmatic rapper who had to be the smartest guy I’d ever met but also the most random.
Brandon was a grown ass man looking at me like he thought I was fascinating. Worth listening to. It warmed me up more than his arm around me did.
“Have you ever been ice skating at Rockefeller Center?” I asked him, impulsively. “I’ve always wanted to do that but I never had and I’ve lived here ten years.”
“I have not.”
“Let’s go now,” I said. That would definitely take my mind off of Dante’s texts.
“Now?” he asked, frowning at me. “You’re wearing an evening gown and don’t have a coat.”
“I can skate in the gown,” I said, waving off his concerns with my hand, overcome by the urge to turn this night around and make it a positive memory, not a freaked out one. “I’m a dancer. I have a strong core. I’ve been in music videos doing weirder stuff than skating in a dress. But I could use a hat.” My ears were frozen solid already.
His eyebrows rose. “You’re serious? You would go ice skating in a dress that reaches the floor? With a slit that goes practically to your navel?”
So he’d noticed the slit. I wasn’t mad about that. “Yes, I would.”
Brandon suddenly seemed to register the rest of what I’d said beyond my willingness to skate in formal wear. “So you’re a dancer. I can believe that. You definitely look like a dancer.”
“Yes, I am. Dancing is my passion.” Lately I’d been concerned that I was aging out of my career. Which was ridiculous because I was only twenty-seven, but there were eighteen-year-old girls arriving in New York every day hoping to replace me and eventually they would. Then what? I had no idea.
“It’s good to be passionate about your career. So… what weird things have you done in videos?” Brandon asked, looking curious.
I wasn’t sure what he was envisioning, but I suspected it was dirty, given how his eyes had darkened. Amused, I told him, “Whatever you’re thinking, I can guarantee it’s not that.”
“You have no idea what I’m thinking.”
The tone of his voice made me shiver. His words felt like both a challenge and an intimate stroke all at once. “Care to share?” I asked.
For a second, I thought he would comply, but then he shook his head. “Probably not a good idea.”
I wasn’t sure if he meant that to be an innuendo or not. He was a very hard man to read. Which, because I like to make things difficult apparently, made him even more intriguing to me. I was actually disappointed he didn’t share his potentially dirty thoughts.
He tapped the driver’s shoulder. “We can’t have you drop us off where you picked us up. Just pull over anywhere in the next two blocks.”
The driver nodded. “Sure thing.”
“I don’t know this neighborhood well but I’m sure we can find some coffee,” he said.
“Where do you live?” I asked. I tried to guess, but it was hard to tell. He was wearing an expensive tux and watch, but he didn’t look entirely comfortable in them. He was ruggedly handsome more so than a pretty boy. I pictured him in a huge house in New Jersey.
“Upper West Side. I just moved to New York, actually.”
Interesting. A Manhattan man. But new to the city. He definitely wasn’t southern because there was no accent. But beyond that, I wasn’t sure where he might be from pre-move. “Well, then, welcome to New York.”
He winced. “Please don’t start singing Taylor Swift.”
I laughed. “You’re safe with me.”
The carriage pulled over. “Here you go, folks.”
Brandon jumped down with an easy grace for a big guy. As he held his hand out for me, it occurred to me for the first time he must have been on his way to my wedding. Unless there was another party on the same floor. My name hadn’t seemed to mean anything to him though, and his name didn’t ring any bells with me. He was also a lot older than Dante. It had to be a coincidence. There must have been another event on the same floor.
Not that it mattered. This was just coffee and an escape hatch for us both.
I took his hand and climbed down, using my free hand to grip his jacket over my shoulders. Despite the fact that my nose and toes were entirely frozen, this night could be going a lot worse.
“Let's grab a cab and go to Rockefeller Center,” I said. Hell, if Brandon didn’t want to go, I’d go by myself. I was overcome by the urge to see the giant Christmas tree, with or without ice skating or companionship. “Unless you need to get to the party, in which case, I totally understand. I do love a good party.” I gave him a smile.
Brandon had his hands in his pockets, which only caused his shirt to pull tighter against his chest and arms, revealing a muscular and fit body. He looked to the left, like he was visualizing the ballroom with the guests mingling among the silent waiters passing out nibbles and champagne flutes.
He turned back to me. “Not one person is going to care if I’m there or not. So skating it is.”
I have this thing I do that I’m really good at where I see a hot man, hear something that indicates to me some kind of vulnerability, and I want to hug him and make it all better. I’d done it with EJ, the rapper, who had lost his mother at a young age, and Dante, who I’d thought was unfairly treated in the media (I was wrong, obviously), and here I was doing it now. Brandon thought it didn’t matter if he showed at the party or not, and how this specimen of hotness thought that was beyond me, and yep, I wanted to hug him. I wanted to comfort and appreciate him and make him feel better.
It’s a problem.
“Perfect,” I said. Because why not bounce from one mistake to potentially another? But it was just ice skating and you only live once.
Brandon raised his hand for a cab. “But fair warning. I grew up in Minnesota playing hockey. I’m going to dust you.”
That made me grin. “Challenge accepted.”