Wanting You (The Saxville Sweethearts #2)

Chapter 1

ONE

Kendall

I’m not usually this distracted, but the man sitting in the back corner of the bar keeps sneaking glances at me.

He’s with a group of guys, all of them in suits.

I can’t help looking back and forth between my friends and his magnetic eyes, searching mine.

I try to stay in the conversation at our table, but it’s futile with his broad shoulders filling out his suit and his short beard distracting me.

“We have the best seat in the house tonight,” says Faith, as she bangs on the table, just enough to tear my attention away from the man in the corner, snapping me back into their conversation.

“It is. Are we doing a round of shots?” I ask.

In unison, they all cheer, “Yeah.”

We start every girls’ night with tequila shots, and tonight is no different.

We switched our night out to Friday since the restaurant, Buena Vista, began hosting a DJ and dancing on the first Friday of every month.

From our high-top table, we wave down our waitress.

She has been here since the restaurant opened, and we love her—and we tip well.

“Your usual, ladies?”

Addison answers, “Yes, thank you.”

I love hanging out with my best friends—Faith, Addison, and Lane.

We’ve been friends since college, and then moved in together here in Faith’s hometown of Saxville.

After a couple of years, one by one, we all bought our own homes.

We still talk frequently, but these face-to-face moments allow us to catch up on the details that aren’t always easy to share in a text.

I’m half listening to the conversation when my eyes meet his again.

It’s hard to rip them away. He has a face I could never forget.

Carmel eyes, with dark lashes and eyebrows.

His features are prominent, with a chiseled jawline, a beard that’s short and professionally shaped—one that I could run my fingers along.

He’s dressed in a tailored suit. I can tell by the breadth of his shoulders that it’s not a pick-it-off-the-rack kind of suit.

Pulling myself back into the conversation, I attempt to catch up, listening to Faith talk about something going on at her office.

My work life is like Faith’s, who is a therapist. As a stylist and salon owner, I don’t have the degrees and licenses to counsel people, but once they are in my salon chair, the floodgates open, and they share all their secrets with me.

As for a personal life, there’s really no time for a significant other while I’m building my empire.

Men can be soul-sucking. After what happened with Jake, my ex, a couple of years ago, I have no interest in starting something new.

He was manipulative, and it took far too long to realize he was controlling and struggling with mental health issues.

But I was too blinded by love to see the red flags.

Now, I look back and shake my head for not leaving him sooner.

I’m in no hurry to rush into a man’s arms after all that.

Well, except maybe this broadly built guy in the corner.

I could be in his arms for a night and have no regrets.

If he’s as good in bed as he looks, then I’d consider it.

“Kendall, how’s Saxy and all the plans for the spa expansion?” Faith asked.

“It’s doing well. We finally have some great stylists who are fully booked for at least six weeks.

The spa expansion is coming along. We should be ready for the grand opening in the next few weeks, once all the necessary permits have been signed off.

Then all that’s left is hiring some more people.

We have massage therapists lined up and are ready to book clients once we set a date. ”

I’m ecstatic about the spa opening. I’ve been dreaming about this day for three years. The spa complements my upscale salon. The new sign will go up over the next few weeks—Saxy Salon they whip their heads around all at once. I’m pretty sure they gave themselves whiplash.

“Wow! He’s big! And very stylish. Right up your alley,” Faith says, with her mouth wide open.

“Uh-huh. How old do you think he is?” I ask as I fan myself. The way he’s looking at me is going to leave a wet spot on this seat. The heat radiating from my core is uncomfortable. I haven’t had a man look at me like he wanted to ravage me in a very long time.

Ugh, not since Jake. Not my finest life decision. He was a huge mistake.

“Early thirties…” Addison says as she raises her eyebrows. “You good?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll go to the bathroom.”

Sliding gingerly off my stool, I head straight for the group of guys in the corner, needing to walk right by them to get to the restroom.

Throwing my fiery red hair over my shoulders, I walk with my head high through the bar area.

My sandals click on the dark tile flooring as I strut between the crowded tables.

It’s a hot summer day, and my olive skin is a deep bronze from all the sun I’ve had so far this season.

I’m wearing a cute sundress that accentuates my booty and fabulous boobs.

It’s a white boho floral lace style that dips down and has ties in the front and an open back.

The dress slightly puffs out for added dimension. In short, it works for me.

One foot in front of the other, I sway past his table, slowing ever so slightly, and catch a glimpse of him as I turn the corner to the bathroom.

His eyes were tracking me from the moment I stood until I rounded the corner.

I’m on fire, as the mirror reflects my pink-tinted cheeks, and I wonder what it is about this guy that’s making my body temperature rise.

I could use a cold shower. Every nerve ending is firing on my skin, and my nipples are tight, which you can clearly see through this white dress.

After washing my hands, I dab the paper towel along my face. I need a few minutes to collect myself before walking back out there. My friends will see his reaction when I head back to the table. Let’s see what they say.

The door opens, and someone walks in. I grab the door and head out as they pass.

As I’m walking back to the table, phone in hand, it hits my thigh just right and goes flying.

I freeze for a couple of seconds, watching my phone slide across the floor right to the table in the corner.

Sucking in a breath, I watch as it lands right beside the handsome, broad-shouldered stranger.

Of course, it lands right there within his reach.

Before my brain and body connect the dots, he picks up my phone and holds it close so I have to walk right up to him.

“Thank you.” My hand reaches out, thinking he will just give it to me.

But to my surprise, he holds it to his chest with a devious smirk on his face—a face that is even more handsome up close.

His eyes are a dark caramel brown with eyelashes a girl would die for.

They’re hypnotizing. With that jawline and neatly trimmed beard, I can barely resist touching him.

“Hey there, you dropped your phone. It doesn’t look to be damaged. Good thing you have a hard case on it,” he says, making a show of inspecting it, then stands up.

Holy shit. My head slowly tips upward to maintain eye contact. My throat goes dry as I try to swallow. I wave and barely croak out, “It’s me! Hi, I’m the problem, me. I do this almost every time I walk with the damn thing in my hand.”

“Are you staying for a while…maybe dancing?” he asks, rubbing his jaw as he drags his gaze up and then down my body, lingering a little too long on my breasts.

Moving closer to me, it feels like he is breathing down my neck; definitely in my personal space, and I’m not complaining. I can smell him—coconuts and palm trees. The scent. The closeness. The question. It all has my body zinging.

Stumbling on my words, I say, “Yeah…we are. It’s our first time here on a Friday. You?”

“We’ll be here. I’ll find you later…on the dance floor.” His confidence radiates from him. With his large, sexy body taking up so much space in front of me, his eyes roam my body and meet my eyes with such intensity that it makes me want to melt into a puddle.

“Okay, guess I’ll see you later then.” I almost walked away without my phone.

“Oh, here. You might need this.” He hands back my phone.

As our hands glide over each other, sparks fly and my breath hitches.

I’m taken aback by the sharp force that courses through my body with just a second of connection.

He winks and turns on his heel, takes a few steps, and sits back at the table with his friends.

I’m left standing there, clenching the phone to my chest. Just trying to catch my breath.

Once he sits down, those eyes are back on me, and my body wants to stay.

I resist the urge to carry on the conversation.

Playing it cool. I relax my arms at my sides, slowly turn, and sashay back to my friends.

I’m trying not to run back to the table to dish the tea.

It takes forever to reach the table. I can see their faces, a mix of shock and curiosity.

Popping myself up on the stool, I open my mouth to talk, but my friends beat me to the punch.