Spring Fling (Seasons of Sizzle #2)

Chapter 1

ONE

ANGELA

Fucking Kevin.

Shifting on the barstool where I’ve been perched for the past half hour, I recross my legs. I move them gingerly to avoid flashing black lace panties at the passing waiter, courtesy of my short, flowy floral dress.

It is a May evening in Alaska. Not that it isn’t still brisk here. But with the days growing longer and the weather finally tipping toward warm, this night called for something a little more special than my usual thermal leggings and cotton briefs.

Even if, with every passing moment, the lace is chafing my nether regions to the point it won’t be fit to be seen by the end of the night. Then again, with every passing moment, the man I’m torturing myself for is losing his chances of seeing the lingerie and my chafed bits.

Seriously.

I flip over my phone and frown at the blank screen. We were supposed to meet here forty-five minutes ago. Fifteen minutes later, the hostess took pity and gave me a seat at the bar after we’d lost our reserved table.

I’ve been nursing a French 75 ever since. Staring at the door and waiting for my date to appear.

"Does he do this often, Angela?"

I glance up to find Heidi, the sweet but sassy bartender who has been topping off my glass free of charge, giving me a sympathetic look.

I thank her and nod. "Kevin has a tendency to run late. He gets so involved in his work that he loses track of time."

"Sounds like your boyfriend should learn how to use my watch."

"Oh, he has a watch. He bought it on his last trip to New York at Cartier, which he’ll be sure to tell you—at least five times—if you even look at it." I roll my eyes. "He isn’t my boyfriend, by the way."

Her eyebrows shoot up. "Oh?"

"He’s the… guy I sometimes… see."

She gives an understanding nod. "Booty call?"

"That’s part of it. But we also sometimes go out for dates or special occasions. Like tonight."

"But it’s not serious, but it’s also kind of complicated."

"Say no more. I’ve had my share of situationships in the past."

"Situationship." I raise my glass to her. "That’s definitely a word for it."

"So, is he still at the office?"

"I’m not sure." I frown at my still-silent, still-blank phone.

While Kevin isn’t the most punctual guy, I didn’t figure he’d be this late. Especially not because he was the one actually working in Anchorage today. I’m the one who had a several-hour commute from our small town to get here.

Thank goodness he booked us a room at a nice hotel nearby. I would have looked like a mess if I didn’t have a few minutes to primp there before our dinner reservation.

Our now-canceled reservation.

"I hope he’s okay." My brows knit together. "There must be a good reason why he isn’t here yet."

"Maybe he—oh!" Heidi’s face brightens as she points to my vibrating phone. "That must be him now."

"It is." I swipe Kevin’s name on the phone and pull up the message. "He must have gotten caught in a meeting. He must have…"

I trail off as I register the words on the screen. Blinking, I shake my head and read them again.

"Is everything okay?" Heidi asks.

"There has to be a mistake."

"What do you mean?"

I flip the phone around so she can read it. "Am I going crazy, or does this say what I think it says?"

Leaning forward, she reads aloud, "Not going to make it tonight." She gasps and lifts her gaze to mine. "He did not just send that."

"Right. There’s no way." Shaking my head again, I pick up the phone, pull up his number, and hit the call button.

It nearly rings off to voicemail, but Kevin eventually picks up. His heavy sigh fills the speaker. "Do we really have to do this?"

"Are you freaking kidding me?" I hiss. "You get us dinner and hotel reservations in a completely different city and you cancel at the last minute."

"Yeah, well, I had to head back to town."

My jaw falls even more slack. "What did you say?"

"Look, there’s no good way to do this. But I don’t think this is going to work."

"I’ll say. We’re not even in the same place." I roll my eyes again. I swear, if this keeps up, this man is going to give me a migraine with all the eye-rolling. "Why didn’t you tell me before I came all the way here? We could have met for dinner in town."

There’s a pause. Then Kevin heaves another sigh, as if speaking with me is heavier than the weight of the entire world on his shoulders.

If he thinks this is tough now, he should just wait until I really tell him how I feel about all of this.

"I think we both know this… thing between us isn’t working."

I suck in a breath. "Come again?"

"We’ve never really been on the same page. I don’t think either of us sees this going anywhere."

"Okay," I draw out, doing my best to stay calm. "I see what you mean. But don’t you think we could have had this conversation another time?"

Like, before I traveled several hours and put on a pair of underwear that’s rubbing my snatch raw.

There’s another pause.

"I think we should see other people."

Before I can repeat my previous statement, I catch a muffled, but unmistakable sound on the other end of the line.

"Ugh." I slap my palm on the bar top. "You’re already with another woman."

"Now, we never said we were exclusive."

"No, no we didn’t. But I also don’t think we talked about you scheduling another date on the same night—as the same time—as you had one with me." I grit my teeth. "You son of a?—"

"If we can’t be grown-up about this, I don’t think there’s anything more we should say."

He hangs up, leaving me staring in stunned horror at a bottle of tequila on the wall. The backs of my eyes start to burn, and I take a shaky breath as my bottom lip quivers.

Proving she really is the best bartender in the world, Heidi pours me a shot from said bottle of tequila and fills my glass of Prosecco to the rim.

"Don’t worry." She pushes both glasses closer to me. "There’s plenty more where that came from."

***

A shot and a glass of Prosecco later, and I’m no longer at risk of crying. But I am in danger of running out of ways to call Kevin a piece of poop. Also, I may be repeating some of my stories about how much he sucks.

We really weren’t seeing each other for that long.

"And another thing," I wipe the remaining crisp bubbles from my lips with the back of my hand. "Did I tell you about the time he thought he was fingering my, you know, but he actually stuck his finger up my?—"

"You told me," Heidi pulls a face. "Are you sure I can’t grab you something to eat?"

"I’m fine." I close my mouth against a hiccup. "I’m not hungry."

It’s a good thing I’m within walking distance of the hotel room that—thank goodness—had a cancellation policy in my favor. I’m not exactly drunk, but I’m probably inching close to the legal limits.

"Fucking Kevin," she says.

"I’ll drink to that," I grumble, raising a glass in a silent toast.

The restaurant’s front door creaks open. I instinctively look toward the door as it opens once again.

I don’t know why I keep doing that. The only people coming and going are happy couples who are all lovey-dovey.

Raising the glass to my lips, I freeze as the most handsome man I’ve ever seen strides inside.

"Oh my…" I lower the glass to fully stare at him. "He’s beautiful."

"I don’t recognize him." Heidi leans across the bar to join my study. "Believe me when I say I’d recognize someone like him. Maybe he’s from the bush like you."

Normally, I’d start an argument about what does and doesn’t qualify as the Alaskan bush. But not now. Right now, I have more important things to contemplate.

Like, how can any man possibly look so good wearing a suit? A suit that clings to his broad shoulders, accentuating his bulging biceps. Either he doesn’t ordinarily live life in a suit or he spends hours in the gym building that bulk.

And his jaw… It’s covered in a beard that accentuates that it’s every bit as rock-hard as the rest of him.

His dark gaze scans the room until it lands on me. I squeeze my thighs together as warmth floods my belly. His lips curve up into a smile that somehow makes him even more handsome. I moisten my lips.

Maybe I’m hungry after all.

I hold my breath as he strides toward me. My heart soars with hope.

And immediately crashes when he says, "Tonya? Is that you?"