Chapter Four #2
I stiffen in my seat, my back erect and my hand clenching my fresh drink dripping with condensation.
Once he recognizes me, he stops in his tracks.
His caramel irises latch onto mine for a few beats.
I expect him to smile, or for him to make a wisecrack about my casual clothes.
But he just stares. I watch the strong column of his throat move in a heavy swallow as he tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
He slowly continues toward me, the couple next to me conveniently vacating their stools as if right on cue.
I couldn’t have planned it any better myself.
“Is this seat taken?” A wolfish grin takes over his entire face as he stands near me. I can feel heat emanating from his hard body.
“No,” I squeak. I blink my eyes rapidly and pat the empty seat next to me. “Won’t you please join me? I’d like to buy you a drink. As an apology for my earlier behavior. I’m sorry I took off like that.”
Adam doesn’t say a word and hoists himself onto the stool, his jean-clad legs spread wide.
He sets his cell phone on the bar as I motion to Janie, and she nods.
Clearing the earlier couple’s empty glasses and wiping down the polished wood in front of him, she asks, “What can I get you? Another soda water?”
He grins, pushing his long hair back from his chiseled jawline. “That’d be great, Janie.”
I lift my index finger. “And please put it on my tab, okay?”
Janie nods and offers me a cockeyed grin. “You got it.” She’s quick with the bubbly water, using a soda gun from behind the bar right in front of us, and sets it on the coaster.
“Thanks,” Adam says.
“You’re welcome.” She looks at me. “You good?”
I lift my full glass and smile. “Perfect. Thanks, Janie.” We both watch her walk off to fill numerous drink orders for her floor staff.
Adam swivels in his seat and holds up his glass, his baritone voice causing butterflies to flutter in my tummy. “Cheers to the prettiest girl in the room.”
My cheeks heat as I clink my glass with his. “Oh, now I’m pretty?”
He takes a long pull of his drink and swallows before he answers. “I’ve always thought you were pretty, Keri. There was never any doubt about that.”
I scowl and set my glass on the bar. “Then what was all that talk about how I can do better with my marketing photo? And how the image I use comes across as ‘stuffy’, huh?”
Suddenly, his large hand locks around my wrist in a squeeze, causing me to snap my mouth shut.
The strong grip he has on me is undeniable, and a surge of warmth penetrates my skin.
I feel like I’m in one of my good dreams, surrounded by laughter, music, and a handsome man touching me.
And it’s a dream I’m about to wake up from.
A dream someone like me isn’t supposed to have in the first place.
How many days have I sat at my desk, hoping for something different in my life as I stare out the window, watching shiny, happy people walk by, living out their lives?
There is an empty space inside of me, and I’m well aware that I’ve pegged Adam as a much-needed distraction.
A diversion so I don’t have to feel the ache of my loneliness.
“I’m sorry. There I go again, talking about work.”
“You do that a lot.” He agrees.
I sneak a sideways glance at him. Adam is brutally handsome.
I like his long, tan fingers touching me and his messy, sun-streaked hair.
His broad shoulders and warm, tawny eyes that remind me of caramel.
The way his lean muscles in his exposed forearms rope under his skin.
Never has a man looked so strong, so confident in who he is.
I want to know more about him. But that would mean opening myself up and trusting him.
I glance at him again, and I can practically feel the drag of his gaze over the fullness of my glossed lips.
I want to trust him. That’s what I need.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, unclenching my wrist.
The immediate absence of his hot fingers on my skin is disappointing, and I don’t answer him right away.
Instead, I watch him take another sip of his drink and lick his bottom lip, his eyes mapping my face and my blonde ponytail hanging over my shoulder.
If he wanted casual Keri, he got the best version I could come up with.
“Well, I’ve got my dancing boots on.” I extend my long leg to show him, and I’m shocked when he slides his palm across my denim-covered calf.
“I can see that.”
I sit up a little straighter and touch the footrest of the bar stool with the tips of my boots. “But I don’t want to make your dance partner mad.”
He seems confused. “My dance partner?”
“Yes. I mean, if y’all are on a date…”
He cuts me off. “—You mean Lisa from Miss Jenny’s?”
I nod. And then we’re interrupted by his cell pinging in the air. I look down at it and see the name “Roxy” again.
“Do you need to get that?” I say.
“Nope. I’ll call her back.” He flips the phone over and looks right at me.
“Keri, Lisa and I are just friends. I saw a familiar face in the crowd tonight, and we started talking. The band segued into her favorite song, and she asked me to dance. I’m not on a date.
” He stresses the word “not” intentionally.
My inner beauty queen does a backflip as I thwart a celebratory smile. But I’m a little worried about why this Roxy woman keeps calling. “Oh. Well, that’s good.” I lift my drink to my mouth and buy some time savoring the watered-down tequila, the ice clinking in my glass.
“When the band comes back, do you want to dance with me, Keri?”
I bat my lashes at him, aware of the slight tequila-laced, seductive smile unfurling from my lips.
“I thought you’d never ask.”