Glancing at Christy from across the room, I saw her laughing at something the woman next to her said. She looked amazing in her red silk halter dress, her tanned shoulders and back exposed. Her hair was sleek and long and her makeup was definitely night-on-the-town heavy. It was a different look than her business suits for her job at the hospital, and even fancier yet than my everyday ER scrubs. Surprising Paul with her daring outfit had been her plan when we’d gone shopping for her dress, and the way his hand rested just north of appropriate on the small of her back, I’d say it worked. They were blatantly in love and it was a little hard to watch sometimes. The tug of longing was strong, like an ache, for I’d never seen the look Paul was giving her ever from Jack. I’d missed out and that hurt.
My own dress wasn’t remotely in the same caliber as Christy’s. I wasn’t trying to please my future husband and I wasn’t looking for one either. Not at a bar and not with Bob/Bill. I had no clue how to pick someone up and I wasn’t twenty-one anymore. My dating skills weren’t just rusty, they were stored in a time capsule from the nineties. I observed other women around the bar area; some wore less clothes than I did when I was in my pajamas, leaving not much to the imagination.
“What do you do?” he asked.
I glanced toward Paul and Christy and caught sight of a man standing with them, a man who had not been there before. If he had, I wouldn't have taken my eyes from him.
“Oh, um…nurse practitioner,” I responded absently as I noticed the man’s arm, corded muscles shifting the white sleeve of the dress shirt. A tattoo peeked out from beneath the rolled-up cuff and his hands were big, the fingers blunt. I couldn’t see the rest of him, and a visceral need took hold to do so.
Bob/Bill took a sip of beer and inched even closer, irritating me. “Is that one of those aids that helps wheel patients to x-ray? I like those cute uniforms you get to wear.”
Stepping back, I ignored his words, frustrated I couldn’t get a glimpse of the man. Fortunately, a woman left the group, creating an opening where he was clearly visible. Heat flooded my veins at the sight of him and I felt weird butterflies in my
stomach. This wasn’t silly, school girl crush feelings. This was something else entirely. This was intense, raw lust. Holy hell, I swear my nipples tightened beneath my dress.
He was taller than Paul’s six foot frame with broader shoulders and closely cropped dark hair. Well dressed, he wore a silver tie, loosened with the top buttons of his crisp dress shirt undone, and dark pants. It seemed formal for him, but he wore it well, but I could only imagine him in a pair of worn jeans and…and nothing else because fit didn’t begin to describe him. He was all ripped, lean muscle and my fingers itched to feel them. From here I could see his eyes were dark, a deep and equally dark brow that shadowed them. If I felt this way by just a glance, what would happen if he turned that gaze on me? I swallowed at the very idea.
He was definitely tall and dark, but handsome? Not in the traditional sense, but he hit every one of my hot buttons, every button I had no idea I even had. The smile he gave Paul was wide and friendly and my heart lurched. Although I felt like I’d been staring at him for minutes, it had been a matter of seconds of ogling. My reaction was instantaneous and almost steamy and…why him? I’d seen more attractive men and never reacted this way before. My body didn’t care that his nose looked like it had been broken at least twice. It indicated a life had been hard and well fought and I could relate to that.
He was the complete opposite of what I was usually attracted to, which was based on attractive guys in movies, not real ones. If the latest James Bond happened to be across the room, I’d certainly knock the other ladies down to get to him. But this wasn’t James Bond. More like his brother who’d been born on the wrong side of the tracks, joined a biker gang, then picked up a law degree at Harvard. He looked comfortable in his tattoos and also in the tie.
“Well?” Bob/Bill shifted enough to block my view of the guy and I frowned. He was keeping me from staring at the hot guy. What had he asked me? Right, job.
“Yeah, no.” Such a chauvinistic idiot. “That’s a candy striper, and they’re either fifteen years old or eighty, so nothing like that at all.” Candy striper, my ass.
When I shifted to get a glimpse of mystery man again, he was gone. Of course he was gone while I was lingering with Mr. Dud. Surely he’d caught up to his girlfriend or wife by now. God, I was wasting my time. Why had I stayed chatting with a guy who made gross misogynistic assumptions about my profession? I should have made some kind of excuse and fled five minutes ago.
A hand sliding down my back and settling on my waist had my mind reengaging. “So, ready to head back to my place?” He took a sip of his beer and watched me over the glass, felt his fingers squeeze my side through my dress.
My mouth fell open as I stepped back, making his hand fall away. Perhaps I was better at picking up guys than I thought. All I had to do was say “yes” and I could take Bob/Bill home with me. I needed serious practice though if this man was what my skills hauled in. “Are you serious?” I had to laugh and he looked slightly abashed, although not for long.
“Of course I am.” His gaze raked over my body as he closed in once again. I needed a shower. “We’ve got a connection.”
Connection? Yeah, right. “I don’t even like oysters,” I countered.
“That’s not the connection I was talking about.”
Yuck.
“Right. Um…listen—”
“Sorry I’m late, baby. This place is so crowded, Paul pointed me in your direction.” I felt a hand on my shoulder before I realized the voice was talking to me. The surprise contact made me jump, but it didn’t feel creepy and gross like Bob/Bill’s hand had. It felt like…electricity crackling in the air before a thunderstorm. Glancing back, it was Mr. Bond’s brother—that would make him Mr. Bond as well, then?—smiling at me. At me! His brown eyes weren’t just dark, they were almost black and they were focused directly, completely, utterly on me.
I froze in complete surprise and gawked at the man. So did Bob/Bill.
“See, Paul knew just where you were.” He pointed in my friend’s direction on the other side of the room.
Paul gave me a thumbs-up sign, as if approving of this man showing up and pretending to…to what? Know me? Did Paul really know his cousin was a sleaze and was saving me? They were family, so of course he knew his cousin was an ass.
“Thanks for entertaining my girl since I was late.” His voice was deep, rough like gravel and had a tone of get the fuck away from my woman. He shook Bob/Bill’s hand, who looked like he had indigestion, perhaps from the oysters he ate in a non-R month or from his one-night-stand plans being aborted.
My girl. Oh my God.
“No problem,” Bob/Bill murmured, then stepped back into safer territory and cleared his throat, checking Mr. Bond out, picking up on the extra few inches in height, thirty extra pounds in weight and a crap load of badass he’d never have. There was no way he was going to argue with the guy.
Neither was I. Up close, he was even more…gorgeous. Manly. Virile. Holy shit, he was hot. Dark stubble roughened his jaw and his hand against my back was warm, even through the cotton of my dress. The butterflies in my stomach earlier were now angry bees, and surely he could see my heart practically beating out of my chest. Unlike Bob/Bill, his gaze hadn’t dropped lower than my chin. It did though, dip briefly to my mouth and my lips parted slightly, trying to catch my breath.
“What were you two talking about when I interrupted?” He shifted his eyes off me and onto Bob/Bill, who seemed to turn green around the gills, clearly afraid to say. Propositioning this man’s significant other was not good for his health.