Chapter 8 Not Too Hard
Not Too Hard
It was confirmed.
Daire Newman was an incorrigible flirt.
He bites?
Fuck. Me.
I couldn’t get off the damn couch until he got up for fear I’d leave a wet spot. I mean, it was a long shot, but I was that turned on. I shifted to curl my leg under my butt just in case, refusing to look at him in case he knew.
Because he seemed to know too fucking much.
After Noelle begged off to go to sleep, Daire talked me into going out with him and Max to The Beaver Dam, otherwise known as the entirety of Sage Ridge’s nightclub scene.
The Beaver Dam, situated between downtown and Crystal Beach, bordered by Wildflower Bluffs on one side and Little River on the other, was named many moons ago by the men of the town as a bit of a joke.
They got away with it because of its location on the river.
But the ladies got them back by winning the right to renovate and rename the coffee shop at the golf course where the men, golfers and non-golfers alike, tended to convene.
Lining the walls with pictures of famous golfers, golf clubs, and everything else golf themed, they called it The Hard Rod Café.
Daire and I left first with Max promising to meet us here. Which was how I found myself walking across the parking lot, nestled against Daire’s side, with his arm slung around my shoulders. And my nipples like high beams lighting the way.
I telepathically threatened Max that he’d better show up. He drove me to Hawk and Noelle’s, and he was my ride home.
I could have walked, but safe as Sage Ridge was, I didn’t savvy walking alone at that time of night.
I had my driver’s license but never got around to buying my own car. There were enough company vehicles kicking about if I was in a pinch, and there were few places in Sage Ridge where I couldn’t walk.
In any case, I had to get my steps in.
How Daire talked me into going to The Beaver Dam, I didn’t know. I said no but still found myself tucked into his car.
Polite, smiling, gracious, but forceful in a way I didn’t see coming. I suspected the gentleman act was just that. An act.
And it made me curiouser than I wanted to be.
And didn’t I just swear off men?
“Come on, admit it. You’re glad you came.” He grinned at me.
His face should have required a license.
“That remains to be seen,” I groused, refusing to succumb to his charm.
He laughed and squeezed me closer.
Great. Yet another man who thinks I’m cute and treats me like a younger sister.
I sighed. My foolish, romantic heart seemed to have missed the memo from my brain. I huffed out a breath. I needed a mental spanking.
Daire Newman is not for you.
Wait…was he into spanking?
He dipped his mouth to my ear. “Relax. I do know how to show a girl a good time.”
“Oh,” I snorted. “I’m sure you do.”
He drew back, eyebrows raised, and appraised me seriously. “Somebody’s been telling tales.”
So, there was at least some truth to my suspicions.
“Maybe it’s an educated guess.”
He nodded his head, his face blank. “Interesting.”
Interesting? What the hell did ‘interesting’ mean?
Pulling open the heavy door to the Beaver Dam, he ushered me through like the gentleman he pretended to be.
His hand rested at the small of my back. Not lightly as you would expect, but firmly. As if it belonged there. As if I belonged with him.
To him?
Was he the possessive type? There was no hint of hesitation in his touch, his presence solid behind me.
Without a single cell of self-preservation in my body, I leaned back into his hand.
And instead of removing it, he flattened his palm more firmly, splaying his fingers across my back.
I jerked away immediately and excused myself to the washroom in hopes Max would show before I returned. It may have been the coward’s way out, but my heart hadn’t yet healed from Paul. And I’d be damned if I allowed that misled and misguided organ to get the wrong idea about Daire.
However, the bathroom ploy required a fine balance.
I couldn’t stay in so long that Daire presumed food poisoning, but I needed as many minutes as I could steal to gather myself together. And give Max time to get here.
Of course, I groused, my teenage crush had to glow up the way he did.
I didn’t have to pee, but I went through all the motions.
I carefully covered the toilet seat with paper. I was not a hoverer. You cannot properly hover when your legs are a mere four inches long. Besides, women who hovered and left piss all over the toilet seat should just use the damn men’s room.
I sat down. Counted to thirty. Pulled up my pants and washed my hands. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I realized I needed some armor and pulled out my power lipstick. Not for Daire’s benefit, I assured myself, but for mine.
And the sake of the extra twenty seconds it afforded me.
I smacked my lips together, patted my own ass, and sailed out the door.
Daire waved me over to a booth, and I breathed a sigh of relief that Max had arrived.
Rounding the side of the booth, my smile faltered. Because the other side of the booth was empty.
Daire sat back with a small smile on his face, a bottle of beer on the table in front of him, and my favorite flavor wine cooler waiting for me.
This man was, by far, too observant.
“You going to sit down or find something else to do to avoid me?”
My mouth fell open but I snapped it shut just as quickly. “Feeling cocky, are we?” I laughed and held up my hand at the sight of his grin, “Nope! Don’t you dare go there!”
“Oh, so you can talk about your toys, but I can’t talk about my,” he paused, grinning wickedly, “toy?”
I shrugged. “Hey, you play with it all you want.”
He barked out a laugh. “Sit down, little spitfire,” he ordered with a wide smile. “And tell me all about your educated guess.”
I sat up straight and laced my hands together primly in front of me. Just like a good girl would. I needed to throw him off track. If he wanted to flirt, I could do it with the best of them.
“I’m ready, Sir.” I pursed my lips. “What was your question again?”
His lazy grin faded away as his eyes dropped to my mouth.
I allowed them to soften while I mentally high-fived myself.
But when his gaze only sharpened on my lips and remained there as he picked up his beer and took a swig, my stomach flipped.
I was out of my league.
I edged back from the table, slowly pulling my hands down to my lap. My lips parted and my chest rose with my inhale.
Locked in a silent communication for which I didn’t know the words, I failed to form a coherent thought.
He put his beer back down and met my eyes.
The heat in his hitching my breath.
I swallowed, my exhale shaky. I’d never been so turned on in my entire life.
Satisfaction softened the lines of his face, and he murmured softly, “So you are a good girl.”
Flustered, I turned my face away looking for my unfortunately absent sharp retort.
“Max,” he called out. “We’re over here.”
I blew out a breath of relief and studiously avoided his gaze.
“Harley.”
I looked up, a polite smile pasted on my face.
“I won’t push.”
My shoulders relaxed. We were better as friends. It was good he acknowledged that.
His eyes dropped to my mouth for a moment before returning to my eyes as he muttered, “Not too hard.”