CHAPTER ONE #2
The bartender interrupted us earlier, and I want to get back on track. “Why are you having a rough night, James?”
I love the way his name rolls off my tongue. It’s a name I can definitely handle saying for maybe forever.
Oops. Getting way ahead of myself here, which sadly I usually do.
The bartender dumps James’ drink off with a gruff, “Here ya go, mate.” There’s no parasol, but I do see tons of cherries bobbing in it.
James lifts the glass and eyes it critically before setting it down. “To be honest, the past several weeks have been rough. The holidays are hectic, and due to extremely poor planning, a conference was scheduled that I found myself unable to refuse.”
I pluck the parasol out of my drink and use it to spear a cherry. “Is the conference over?”
Rolling his broad shoulders, James picks up his drink again and takes a healthy gulp. He heaves a sigh and gives me a grin. “Blessedly yes. Today was the last day, which means tomorrow I get to go home.”
It’s tempting to ask where home is, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself, so instead I ask, “What type of conference was it?” and then slide the cherry off the parasol with my teeth.
“Medical.”
Somehow, I don’t see James being in sales, medical or not.
“You’re a doctor?”
Picking up his drink, he eyes me over the rim of the glass. “I am.”
Before I can follow that up with another question, James asks, “So what brings you to the Hilton Garden Inn's bar on a Friday night, Holly?”
“Networking vendor event. Way more fun than medical conferences, I’m sure.”
James doesn’t look convinced. “What do you sell?”
Since I absolutely love talking about my business, I jump right in. “Oh, a bit of this and that. Gifts, novelties, and artisan goods. It's called 'It's Always Something’.” I smile as the familiar surge of pride fills me. “I sell things that make people smile.”
“That sounds very on brand for you.” His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles.
Unconsciously, I find myself leaning closer, drawn to this man whom I just met in ways that defy reason. “Is that a compliment?”
“It is.”
His answer is simple and direct, and leaves me feeling like a marshmallow in a mug of hot chocolate, all warm and gooey.
This is attraction. The real, undeniable kind that I've read about in romance novels but haven't felt in longer than I care to admit.
My last serious boyfriend was two years ago, and what I felt for him was tepid compared to this burning awareness.
“So, a doctor. ENT?” I guess.
His lips curl up in a half-smirk. “Try again.”
I let my gaze run over him, taking in his tall and lean body, those amazing shoulders, and his strong hands. “Cardiologist?”
His eyes widen. “Yes. How did you...”
Now it’s my turn to gloat a little. “You have good posture and you look like you take your health seriously.” I gesture with my drink. “And no alcohol, but these do pack a lot of sugar.”
He laughs, and it takes everything in me not to jump into his lap and kiss him. Because as he laughs, it hits me that this man with his warm smile and infectious laughter is something that was sorely missing in my life.
When his laughter dies down, he picks up his drink and makes a toasting gesture. “I’m impressed, Holly.”
I shrug modestly. “I'm good at reading people.”
“And what do you read about me?” he teases, arching a dark brow as a smile plays around his lips.
The question hangs between us, weighted with possibility.
I study him, taking in the expensive gold watch on his wrist that peeks out of his sleeve when he picks up his drink, the perfectly tailored suit, and the loose tie draped around his neck.
Then I look at his face and look beyond the handsome features.
There’s a loneliness in his blue eyes that he probably doesn't realize shows. I know because I’ve seen the same in my own gaze every time I glance at myself in the mirror.
“You work too much,” I say slowly.
“What doctor doesn’t?” he fires back.
I continue on, “You're successful, but you don't brag about it.”
The grin on his face grows.
“You came here tonight because you had to, not because you wanted to. And...” I pause, feeling bold, my heart hammering against my ribs, and then I go for it. “You're attracted to me, but you're not sure what to do about it.”
The grin slips off his face and his eyes darken, the blue turning almost navy, as the air between us charges with electricity. The jazz music fades into background noise and the other patrons disappear. It's just us, this connection, and this moment.
“You're very perceptive,” he says, his voice dropping into a low, throaty purr.
“So I'm right?”
“Yes.” His big body leans closer, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him. His knee brushes mine and the touch sends electricity up my leg, making my breath hitch. “On all counts.”
Anticipation thrums through my veins like I’m a little girl again, eagerly waiting for Santa to come. “What are you going to do about it?”
James sets down his glass, the crystal clicking softly against the polished bar top. He turns to face me fully, and this close I can see the darker navy flecks in his blue eyes and the slight cleft in his chin beneath the goatee. “That depends.”
I wet my lips. “On?”
“On whether you feel it too.”
I meet his gaze directly, letting him see everything I'm feeling. The want. The curiosity. The pull toward him that defies logic because we've just met ten minutes ago, but it feels like I've been waiting for him my whole life. “I feel it.”
“Good.” His voice has gone rough at the edges, gravelly with desire. “Because I haven't been able to look away from you since I sat down.”
“Then stop looking,” I whisper, leaning closer until all I can see is his face. “And do something about it.”
For a moment, we just stare at each other, the tension so thick I can barely breathe as my pulse pounds in my ears. Then James reaches out and tugs on a curl of blonde hair, his fingers lingering against my cheek. His touch is gentle but possessive, and I lean into it instinctively.
“I have a room upstairs,” he says quietly, his thumb tracing my jawline. “If you want...”
“Yes.” I don't hesitate or second-guess. This feels right in a way I can't explain and don’t need to. Some things just are and this is one of them.