She answers immediately and firmly, “No! There’s nothing worse than listening to someone vomit. Actually, there is. Smelling someone else’s vomit!”
I give in. “Okay, well, I’ve got my cell on me if you need me. ”
As I walk out the restroom door, someone crashes into me from behind. Hard. I teeter and almost fall, but strong arms wrap around my middle and hold me firmly.
My head sways and I suddenly feel lightheaded. I close my eyes and breathe deep.
Oh, damn.
I know that scent. I fantasize about that fragrance. My eyes flutter open, and I look up to focus on the rat bastard.
Ghost looks down at me with what appears to be concern in his eyes. “Okay, pretty girl?”
I hate that I love how he calls me that.
Still in a daze, I stupidly croak, “You smell good. ”
A round of applause, please. Bravo.
My back is pressed up against his stomach and chest. He isn’t built like Nik. Ghost is more slender than Nik, and almost as tall and strapping. He has the lean, muscular physique of a swimmer, although his arms are built bigger than a swimmer’s. The feel of the ridges of his abs in my back makes my vajayjay dance. His messy blonde hair sits atop his head looking perfectly styled, even though he runs his hand through his hair every five minutes, and he looks outrageously handsome in a tux and bowtie. His warm brown eyes are dancing.
He replies in a husky, soft voice, “Oh, yeah?” He leans down and buries his nose in my hair. He breathes me in. “Well, I gotta say, you smell good, too, pretty girl. ”
I quickly straighten and spit, “God, why are you such an asshole?!” Before he can respond, I’m gone.
That was a little uncalled for.
Shut up, brain.
***
The evening begins to slow. People are leaving the wedding reception. It’s almost two a. m.
I’m seated at the bar, talking and flirting with Sheriff who has opened up to me quite a bit.
He’s easy to talk to, funny and attractive. I take a moment to ponder why I never noticed this before.
Then I take a closer look at him. He’s blonde, brown eyed, tall and muscular.
Ghost.
He looks like Ghost. That’s why.
I don’t want an imitation Ghost. I’ve had the real thing, and I know how good it is. There’s no faking that.
Stefan reaches over and takes my hand. He says, “Sorry, Nat. I got to clean up. It was great talking to you. Hope I get the chance again this Saturday. ” He kisses my hand, and I smile softly at him.
“Me too. Don’t be a stranger, Sheriff. ” I reply.
I’m about to stand when an arm goes around my waist. I look up and see Ghost frowning down at me. His bowtie is undone and it hangs around his collar.
So hot.
He orders, “Dance. Now. ”
Then he tightens his hold around my waist and drags me to the dance floor. We’re the only ones on it. He takes my hands, winds them around the back of his neck and steps closer to me. He holds me tight with one hand on the middle of my back, while the other is half on my lower back, half on my ass. He has me wrapped up.
I’m unsure what’s going on right now, so I react the only way I’m programmed to.