Chapter 8
Fleur
Maybe I’d had one too many glasses of wine, although I could only remember finishing one. Yet with the fruity drinks flowing that tasted like lighter fluid, I sensed my reactions were on the edge.
I’d noticed Montgomery walking into the bar, standing in the doorway and surveying the scene like a man dissecting his next takedown. While he’d been far enough away that I hadn’t caught his expression, I’d sensed his immediate disdain.
Then what the hell was he doing in the bar?
Wildwood was rowdy, the kind of establishment meant for hard drinkers and guys pretending to be big he-men, winning a game of pool or darts just to catch the eye of whatever chick they hoped to get lucky with that night.
Zoe had chosen the location. Why? Because she enjoyed the ‘vibrant’ atmosphere.
I knew the girl well enough to catch onto her ruse.
She was planning on sowing her wild oats one last time.
If only in rounds of heavy flirtation. Maybe a shocker given her clean and classy demeanor, but perhaps she knew that after tonight, she’d need to be a very good girl.
She’d certainly managed to accomplish heavy flirtation with the waiter alone.
He’d come close to honoring her request of stripping right there in front of our table.
Meanwhile, I’d sipped my cabernet, wishing I could be anywhere else.
Then he’d walked in. Larger than life. Acting as if he owned the place. I hadn’t found the time to delve into who he was on the internet, but I certainly planned on doing so. Men like him didn’t just drop into town without a reason.
I pushed my way through the crowd toward the restrooms. Zoe was about to get her ass whooped on the mechanical bull and I wanted no part of watching the debacle.
Plus, I needed some time to myself and escaping at this point wasn’t in the cards.
I’d never hear the end of it. The girls would pick at me, wondering why I was in such a shitty mood.
Maybe I was just tipsy enough to tell them in no uncertain terms why, but in doing so there was a chance Zoe would flee town, ignoring her own wedding. I didn’t want that for her. Everyone deserved to chase happiness. Even if it was a pipe dream.
I shoved my way into the crowded, dim hallway, wondering why in the hell the owner of the joint hadn’t invested in some decent lighting. Once inside, I cringed hearing all chatterboxes behind me, all giggling about something. Grown ass women acting as if they were teenagers.
Ignoring their bantering, I shoved my mind into a vacuum and stood in front of the counter, gripping the edge as if a lifeline.
How many deep breaths had I taken over the last two years?
I’d researched online, learning a simple activity such as concentrating on how many breaths I took in a two-minute span could calm the anxiety.
Tonight it wasn’t working.
Maybe the date on the calendar. Maybe the memories. Maybe Danny’s call.
Or Randy admitting he wanted to go down on me. Yuck.
With a single lift of my head and a moment of honest reflection, I could admit all of the above were ticklers as to my nasty mood swing, but the icing on the cake was all about Montgomery.
Not only how incredibly handsome he was, but because of the way I’d reacted to him, both with my mental reactions and how my body had betrayed me.
More important and perhaps repulsive was the need furrowing inside, growing exponentially every time we ran into each other.
The feeling of freefalling or wanting to.
Of letting go in a way that maybe I’d regret one day, but needed if only as a reminder that a passionate woman was still inside. Fighting for freedom.
Aching for companionship.
Longing for even one night of raw, unbridled carnal sin.
Even a little primal activity tossed in for good measure.
Of course I wasn’t going to allow myself to stoop so low. I didn’t know the man or his background, including if he was married, had ten kids, or had some sexually transmitted disease. My mind would win out against my body’s provocation.
I was wrong. I was invincible.
And I was still horny as shit.
All because of a tall, dark, and potentially dangerous man.
Not only to my person, but to my slightly off kilter mental state. Another deep breath. Another moment of longing. A hard glare at the reflection of a woman who’d once centered her life around discovering joy only to have her dreams and hopes dashed by reality.
My gaze fell to the necklace I’d chosen for the evening.
I ran my finger across it, the ruby setting my birthstone.
I’d had the piece for years, treasuring it to the point I almost never wore it, too fearful of losing something so precious.
There was a distinct reason I’d worn it tonight, although in doing so, memories constantly tugged at my mind.
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself.” As soon as I muttered the words, a dolled-up chick from behind me said something to one of her friends. My glare was hard enough to crack the glass. My goodness. Terrible mood swings all because of a guy who carried himself like a stalker.
There was no other reason for him to be in this bar.
The food was mediocre, the music so-so. Unless you called watching wayward brides-to-be falling on their asses after challenging a fake bull entertainment, there was nothing unique.
At least the drinks were good. As long as you remained with the basics.
What in God’s name was I trying to convince myself of?
I took a step away, running the tip of my pinky across the corners of my mouth, and smoothed down my dress.
As if for the first time, I really took a look at what I’d chosen for the evening.
For an event of this nature, I’d normally choose jeans, maybe a fancy sweater.
Not a dress that left nothing to the imagination.
Montgomery had noticed, his heated gaze crawling all over me as if mentally peeling away the material. Yeah, and you appreciated him doing so. Admit it. In fact, you were hoping he’d make an appearance.
“Not true.” Another two words so the girls behind me had additional fodder. Maybe what I really needed was another full glass of wine. The day would pass. The sun would rise tomorrow, at least hopefully so. And I was blessed to have an amazing business and tremendous friends.
I waited, taking another few deep breaths as the gaggle of girls finally left, three tossing me angry looks. They were tourists. I could tell by their clothes.
What was I saying? The dress I’d chosen was asking for trouble. After splashing water in my face, I snatched a towel, blotting instead of wiping. There was nothing worse than raccoon eyes.
The whooshing of the door interrupted my few seconds of peace. Maybe it was the final nudge I needed. I couldn’t hide forever. With my eyes still closed, I turned sharply, immediately smacking into something hard.
There was a shot of current jolting me from my moment of reverie, an instant sense that the hard body I’d run into had nefarious intentions in mind. I didn’t need my eyesight to know who it was.
Montgomery.
I opened one eye first, willing the oppressive man away, hoping he was a dream.
Or a nightmare.
But he was very real, peering down at me with a slight scowl, his eyes effectively piercing my entire soul.
While the jolt was disarming, the flood of sensations bypassed everything else. Being unable to feel my feet in heels was annoying and when I tried to back away, I stumbled just enough he grabbed both arms. His grip was firm, the hold far too possessive.
That’s when my brain kicked back into gear. “What are you doing in the ladies’ room?”
“Finishing our conversation.” His voice dripped with sarcasm and something acutely dark and demanding.
“It was finished and do you want to know why I’m certain of that cold, hard fact?”
He allowed the edges of his upper lip to upturn enough the creases in the corners of his eyes were more prevalent. An indication he was older than me.
It also added to the sex appeal that he had in spades.
“Why don’t you tell me.” The gruffness of his tone hummed through every muscle.
“Because I ended it. Now get out of my way before I kick your ass.” I pulled away, sidestepping him.
But he was having none of me walking away from him again. With a savage jerk, he yanked my body into the heat of his. With no warning, I was on my tiptoes, fighting the lean from the centrifugal force. In the strange bathroom light, his eyes were even more luminescent.
“Not until I say it’s finished.”
I was ready to launch into him again, but the words were caught in my throat.
He had no intention of allowing me to recuperate or deny his authority.
While he was fisting the back of my hair, wrapping his fingers in it, he was also shaking his head.
No, nothing that was about to happen between us was a good idea.
Nothing at all.
Yet when he dared pull me tightly against him as if he owned me, I didn’t even try to fight him off. Maybe the woman inside who’d hidden herself away from any carnal act, including heavy flirting, was crying to experience a frivolous, heedless moment.
Besides, the musky scent of him drove me wild, and his demanding hold had sent several waves of excitement straight to my core. With a single quick action, he pushed me against the edge of the counter, yanking up my dress.
I had no time to object before he smashed his hand against my bottom. What the fuck was he doing?
“I told you what would happen if you dared threaten me again.” He’d been serious. Was he kidding me right about now?
Evidently not.
I was floored how much anguish a man’s palm could inflict. I was still numb, completely shocked anyone would do something so horrible. Yet here we were, a man I didn’t even know spanking me inside a women’s bathroom in a crowded bar.
“Who do you think you are?” I spouted off, a dark and twisted emotion springing to life deep within a silenced prison.