Chapter Nineteen
Alicia
Emmett was a great distraction. He had a mellow energy, but he seemed genuinely interested our conversation about nature conservation.
It was a great talk. So much so, that I barely noticed when Remi joined some of his friends on the dance floor.
I was too preoccupied by Emmett’s thoughtful observations to give Remi’s huge smile as he swayed from side-to-side any of my attention.
Emmett sharing the names of influential people in the county held my complete consciousness.
So preoccupying that I didn’t pay any attention to the flex of Remi’s thighs in his jeans—it was obscene.
I was ignoring his existence so effectively that when Emmett excused himself for a few moments, I was able to feign surprise as Remi leaned his elbows on the bar a few stools down from where I sat.
The friendly smile he gave me was just like the one from that morning after checking that my side of the wall was safe enough for me to enter.
We were friendly, and wasn’t that good? Wasn’t that great? It actually wasn’t confusing or important at all. I didn’t need to parcel out my impulse to talk to him or my desire to touch him.
Friends touched. I was sure of it. I was well practiced in having friends. One little touch.
My two glasses of Chardonnay agreed.
“You’re everywhere these days,” I called over the noise and music.
Remi’s grin grew slowly, tying my heart strings into knots. “Not a whole lot of places to go.”
“Having fun tonight?”
It was all the invitation he needed to move closer.
The crowd parted around him, giving way to his size.
People here were a bit taller on average than most places, and yet, he was inches taller than everyone else.
His chest was too large to squeeze between me and the person next to me.
Instead, he gripped the edge of the bar with one hand, putting him partially beside and behind me.
I always loved how he consumed space. The sheer mass of him surrounding me.
Heat ebbed from his body, and under his clean scent was the bite of sweat.
I squirmed, all too aware of the ache between my thighs.
“I am,” he answered. “You?”
“The wine is pretty good,” I said lifting my glass to my lips, only to realize it was empty.
His eyes flicked from the glass to my face, I could practically see him holding back a comment.
“Don’t,” I warned, but there was no denying the humor in that single word.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Yes, you would.”
God, that smile again, I groaned internally.
He had a jaw sharp enough to cut through my better judgment.
Not today, handsome man. But another much more muffled part of me whispered, Well, maybe.
Remi held up a hand to get the attention of the bartender. “Have you had their pretzels?”
“Oo! A pretzel!” I sat up straighter, instantly energized for some carbs.
“You’re gonna love this one, the beer cheese will make you see God.”
“You wanna”—I cut myself off from asking him if he could make me see God. It was like I’d lost all control over the horny little comments that should have stayed in my head and not texted to him or spoken—“share it with me?”
“Nah, I wouldn’t want to crowd you and Emmett.” The skin of his knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on bar.
I smirked down at my hands. Don’t be jealous, Remi, it’s annoyingly hot.
Okay, now he should go.
“We’re just . . . there’s nothing . . .” I chewed my lower lip, and heat rose up my cheeks as he glared down at the press of my teeth against my flesh. “He’s just helping me.”
“Save the wetlands?”
“All of them,” I deadpanned.
“I believe in you.” It could have been said in sarcasm, it would have worked just fine with our normal conversations.
But it wasn’t. Instead, there was sincerity in the timbre of his voice.
It rumbled through my blood, coursing my waning confidence to grow.
Affection burned in my chest, it felt good to be believed in.
“Thanks,” I said lamely.
“So, why this state land?”
I opened my mouth prepared to tell him the tale I was telling everyone else before closing it again. Tilting my head to the side, I considered that I knew him. And that allowed a different kind of trust.
The nail of my thumb clicked on the bar top as I thought.
He lifted an eyebrow toward my nervous hand. “What are you thinking about?”
I leaned in, lowering my voice. “You wanna know the real reason?”
His midnight eyes sparkled. “Yes.”
“You can’t tell anyone. I shouldn’t tell you.”
“To the grave, Leese.”
I couldn’t help smiling. We both loved a secret. “The property was supposed to go to public auction, and we had a private benefactor prepared to buy and put protection covenants all over it.”
“Good.”
“But then they released the property list without this one on it, so I looked into it and saw a proposed development, and looked into the company, and found that a main investor is the son of a state congressman.”
He mouthed Oh. “So, not only is it an abuse of natural resources, but an abuse of nepotism.”
“Or as I like to call it, nepotism.”
His laugh thundered down my skin—rich and messy. A storm I should seek shelter from, but it was too beautiful and wild to look away. I wanted to be swept up in it, soaked through. Get thrashed about, lost at sea, and whatever else this moment could give me.
One little touch.
The thermal cotton stretched across his chest was soft under my palm.
And the muscle beneath was firm. His heartbeat drummed, and his breathing grew a bit strained—faster but measured.
Did my sense of smell grow more acute? Or had he always smelled a little bit like .
. . something smokey, I couldn’t put my finger on it.
His crew neck rested on his collarbone. The tips of my fingers brushed a little higher, finding the skin just above the cotton. He was so hot . . . to the touch. It was as if I hadn’t felt heat in years, and it was just there under the swirls of my fingerprints.
I flicked my gaze up to find his heavy-lidded eyes locked onto me. Looking at Remi was easy, my eyes slid from detail-to-detail, eating him up like a well-balanced diet.
But being seen by him, that made me squirm. He saw too much, laid me bare. Exposed.
I loved it.
Snatching my hand back, I lifted my glass to my lips only to remember that it was empty.
Still.
There was a possibility that I was more sloppy than I’d realized. It’d only been two glasses. Was I starving? Had I drank on an empty stomach? I hadn’t felt this drunk before he’d come over, before he’d taken my space and breathed my air. A pressure, a pull, edging me off balance.
Blinking, he looked away. He lifted his beer to his lips and took a long drink, the muscles of his neck flexing.
“Hey,” a perky voice said from the other side of the bar.
I startled, almost knocking over my glass.
“What can I get for you?” The tiny blond bartender flicked her eyes between us.
He pointed in my direction. “A pretzel with beer cheese, and”—he spoke to me—“and a water?”
To the woman behind the bar, I nodded. “A water would be great.”
“No ice?” he asked.
The corners of my lips quirked upward—he remembered so many little things. “Yup, no ice, please.”
He lifted his beer. “Two more of these, please.”
“Sure thing.”
A weird silence stretched between us as she walked away.
I’d forgotten everything I’d ever learned about socializing.
It was usually so easy for me to make conversation, but I kept stepping in patches that looked innocuous only to find a bees nest under my foot.
I should have found myself covered in little stings, except I wasn’t.
Liking Remi should hurt, right?
It shouldn’t feel so easy to make him laugh or to be in his company. And yet, it was like the inhale and exhale of my breath—it didn’t take any thought at all.
Even in this lack of anything to talk about, it was strange not because it was awkward but because it was comfortable.
The bartender set two longnecks on the bar in front of him and a water in front of me.
After thanking her, he turned to me. “If you and Emmett wanna join us there’s room at our table.”
“That’s nice of you, but I’m actually here for work, so I’m gonna keep doing that.” Jerking my head toward the glass in front of me, I went on. “I’ll drink this and stop being a mess. I swear I haven’t drank much, I think I forgot to eat today.”
“I figured.”
“Go back to having fun. Just pretend like I’m not even here,” I said.
He scoffed but didn’t say any more. He didn’t need to.
The pink tip of his tongue flicked over his bottom lip leaving it wet and glistening.
My breathing shallowed. I shifted on my barstool, crossing one leg over the other, a thrum of need unfurling low in my belly.
He rubbed his long fingers on his mouth, wiping it dry.
The memory of that touch burning along my skin made the hairs on my arms and the nape of my neck stand on end.
He jerked a nod and took a step back. The deep gruff set of his voice belied his polite words. “Have a good night, then, Leese.”
“It’s nice,” I said quickly, making him pause in his retreat, “that we can be friends. I didn’t think . . . I’m just glad we can be friends.”
He exhaled one long breath before nodding. His back disappeared into the crowd, but the top of his head remained visible above everyone else’s. I should look away, pretend like he wasn’t even there, but I couldn’t bring myself to. Until he turned and caught me staring.
My face burned and my pale-blue painted nails grew very interesting.
Emmett came back.
I forced a smile.