Chapter One #2
“Okay.” As my friends left us, giggling with their heads together as they made their way back to our booth, I sashayed to the bar and signaled for Angel, ordering another mojito and whatever beer he was drinking.
Keenly aware of his tall form next to me, I rested a booted foot on the brass rail that ran along the bottom of the bar and tapped my nails – this week, they were Pisces the Future – on the polished surface.
I slanted a sidelong glance at him. Fuck me, he was handsome – like Gregory Peck, old-Hollywood handsome. And that full bottom lip? I wanted to bite him there, see what kind of noises he made when he was turned on.
With another tap on the bar, I smoothed my hair over my shoulder again. “Where’s your friend?”
“Probably going to do something else to fuck up his life again. Love him but he’s kind of a dumbass.” With an affectionate grin, he shook his head, then extended a hand. “I’m Jase.”
“Tyler.” I rested my palm against his, enjoying the warmth, finding my fingers engulfed by his long ones. He had calluses, like he worked hard with his hands – mmmm – but his neat nails were trimmed and clean. I studied him a moment. “I know you.”
“I bring my truck into the Ford place for servicing.” A slight grimace twisted his lips. “And I’ve seen you out when you were dating Colt Calvert.”
Small towns. Ugh. Angel placed our drinks in front of us, and I reached for mine, burying a hum in a sip of mojito. “So you’re from here.”
“Born and raised.” He gestured with his bottle toward one of the empty tall tables, and I led the way, icy glass cool against my palm. “Stationed in Jacksonville when I was in the Air Force. Worked in north Florida a couple of years when I got out.”
Maybe I’d seen him around Chandler-Haynes High when I went there, but I didn’t really talk about those months. I really tried not to think about that period of my life. If I didn’t like the woman who’d screamed at Colt . . . well, I didn’t like that desperate, rebellious teen either.
Wanting to be someone I liked wasn’t too much to ask.
“What about you?” He tugged out a chair for me and waited until I’d perched on it to pull out his own.
Well, I’d walked right into this. I painted on a smile. “Thomasville.”
“Yeah?” That slow grin made another appearance, his blue gaze fixed on my face. “Glad you moved here.”
That was a statement, not a question. The easy curve of his mouth, the way he lounged in his chair, the intensity of his regard on me . . . little quivers of desire kicked off low in my belly.
“You’re damn good on that floor.” He lifted his bottle, and I watched his throat flex with a swallow. I could taste what it would be like to lick over his pulse, skin a little salty, maybe acidic with a hit of cologne. “Make it look easy.”
“My mom taught me.” I loved being able to say that about Mama Nancy. My mom.
“Can’t say I learned to line dance.” He tilted the bottle toward me. “I can slow dance, though. Mama and Grandma made me go to cotillion.”
That rang a bell – Holly Callahan teasing Colt about it every so often, although I hadn’t paid attention.
When we’d been around her while we’d been together, I’d been too busy watching how he reacted to her and tried to pretend he didn’t.
And she was so touchy-feely, like she didn’t get that you didn’t put your hands on another woman’s man.
I wasn’t surprised they were together now. Them being a couple didn’t hurt my feelings either.
“Cotillion.” I chased a mint leaf with the edge of my straw. “What’s that?”
“Etiquette classes.”
“Wait.” I held up a hand. Mama Nancy had worked on my manners and marked sections in a book for me to read, but classes? For real? “There are classes?”
“Damn straight.” He touched the center of his chest, mock seriousness all over his face. Oh, he was something. “I excelled.”
“So what do you do? Not in the classes. For your job.” He obviously knew what I did for a living.
“Heavy equipment repair.” He relaxed into his chair. “I run a service truck out of the John Deere shop in Pelham.”
That explained the tan and the gorgeous muscles flexing in those forearms. I seriously wanted to know where else he flexed like that. My belly quivered all over again.
I darted a glance at the dance floor. It was getting late, so the crowd there had thinned out a little. I waved my glass toward the small group trying to keep up with the Men In Black theme song. “I could teach you.”
His eyes lit up. “Yeah?”
“Sure.”
His bottle hit the table with a thump. “Let’s go.”
I downed the remainder of my drink in one gulp, warmth spreading out from the rum. His hand at the small of my back – oh, my Lord, those fingers – he ushered me ahead of him.
He was a quick study and had good rhythm. Half an hour in, I stopped to catch my breath. Brushing my hair back, I frowned up at him. “I think you’ve done this before.”
“Promise I haven’t.” That easy grin flashed once more, and with his index finger, he drew an x in the center of his chest. “Cross my heart.”
My memory jiggled, a video clip that had made its way across my social media feed a few months back. He’d shot that same grin at the camera, drawn that same x, drawled the same words. He was @LittleTownLuxe’s fiance. I couldn’t stand her, but still.
Ugh, I hated a cheater.
Lips pursed, eyes narrowed, I stepped back. His thick brows jerked down to a frown. “What?”
“You’re engaged.” I spat the words at him in a poisonous tone that was ugly to my own ears.
“No.” He didn’t move, no defensive lift of his hands or even a shake of his head. “I broke it.”
“So you’re looking for a rebound.” Just like a guy.
“No.” He did shake his head then, shoulders rolling in a soft shrug. “Saw you tonight, just wanted to spend time with you.”
The idea of who he’d chosen to be engaged to gave me pause. She was as fake as shit in those videos, same as she’d been in real life, and she was mean. What kind of man asked that to marry him?
“You broke it off.”
“I did.” His tone brooked no argument, and a fierce light glinted in those blue eyes, like lightning. “Decided that was not how I wanted to spend the rest of my life.”
“Huh.” I winced. The monosyllable had been Colt’s response to everything, which drove me nuts, and now I was doing it.
“How about you and Colt?” His gaze sharpened on my face. “Who ended it?”
“I did.” I lifted my chin. I would not shrink from what I’d been, what I’d done. I’d worked incredibly hard this year not to be her again. “I couldn’t love him like he deserved.”
“I get that.” His shoulders relaxed, and that brilliant grin made another appearance. The man had pretty teeth. My brain threw up images of all the ways he could scrape them over some part of my body, and I repressed a shiver. “I like an honest woman.”
“Some people think I’m too honest.” Although that wasn’t usually the word that got used. Cold, hard, bitchy . . . I’d heard them all, but damn. I hadn’t lived a life that invited or rewarded softness, now had I?
“Let ‘em.”
Now I grinned, an irresistible tug at the corners of my lips. Oh, I liked him, his previous taste in women notwithstanding.
Everyone was entitled to a mistake. And sometimes those mistakes – those bad choices – lasted years.
So who was I to judge?
At least he’d been smart enough to make a new choice.
The music shifted to John Michael Montgomery’s “I Swear,” the slower tempo part of Angel’s design to get people ready to go home.
Jase held out his hand. “Now this I know how to do.”
I hesitated half a second, staring at his callused palm. But what the hell? I laid my hand in his, and he tugged me into his arms.
Sweet baby Jesus.
Touching him was like standing next to an electric fence, awareness buzzing everywhere we came into contact – chest, belly, thighs. My stomach clenched, and lower, I got all achy and swollen, and was I wet just from being close to him?
And that smell – warm male skin, beer, some nice cologne.
“Okay.” He looked down at me, eyes blown like he was on something, lips slightly parted. “You feel that, right?”
I felt something, hard and thick even through denim. Aware we weren’t even dancing, I held his gaze. “Yep.”
He swallowed, throat bobbing, and I considered licking him. I pressed closer, getting high off his pained grunt of arousal.
I slid my hand from his arm to his ribs, around his back and down to brush his belt, then dipped my fingers into his pocket. The man’s ass was like steel, and I swallowed a moan. “You want to get out of here?”
His eyes widened. Oh, my, he was cute. Then his face went taut, hand gripping my hip. I liked that, too, the feel of strong fingers digging in through my jeans.
“Hell, yes,” he rasped.
Spinning, I signaled Mags, my ass brushing his zipper, earning me that wounded exhale. I smiled, his hand a hard grasp on my hip.
This would be fun.
“Hey.” Maggie bounced up to us with a dazzling smile, her eyes bright.
“I’m leaving with him.”
“Okay.” She tugged her phone from her pocket and snapped a quick photo of us, then held out an imperious palm in Jase’s direction. “Hey, let me hold your phone.”
He passed it over, unlocked, and Maggie’s fingers flew over the screen as she texted herself. Satisfied, she handed it back.
“Have fun.” She kissed my cheek, then patted his, an impish light in her eyes. “Do everything I would do.”
Aware of his hard body behind me, his hand slipping around to cup my lower belly, I leaned back into him, excitement and desire pulsing beneath his hand, between my thighs.
Oh, as soon as I had him alone, I had absolutely every intention of doing everything.