“Yes, I’m alone. But I’ll be fine. I just—”
“Olivia, I really don’t like it. Can’t you just go back inside? Consider it a favor.”
When he puts it like that… “Okay. I’ll go back inside. Just call me when you get here.”
“See you in a few,” he says then hangs up.
Tossing my phone in my purse, I pull down the visor and check my makeup. I know I shouldn’t care, but I’m glad I got all dolled up to meet Ginger. After I reapply a little rose lipstick, I run my fingers through my straight hair and adjust my red off-the-shoulder shirt.
Back inside, I order a beer. It’s inexpensive, so I don’t mind leaving it when Cash shows up, plus sipping it won’t give me a buzz.
Twenty minutes pass and I’ve checked my phone for the sixth time. I’m beginning to wonder if everyone’s going to stand me up tonight when the door swings open and I look up to see Cash striding toward me.
My mouth goes completely dry when his eyes meet mine and he smiles a lop-sided, cocky grin. I wish his long legs didn’t devour the space between us so quickly. I could just look at him, just watch him move all day long. He’s built so perfectly and he looks stunningly edible in his “work clothes” of snug black jeans, a snug black t-shirt and black boots. It sets off his wide shoulders, his narrow waist and the honey color of his skin. And those eyes. Damn those black eyes. They sparkle like drops of an ebony pond in his handsome face.
By the time he gets to me, I’m debating the need for a change of panties.
I start to slide off my stool, but he stops me. “Finish your beer,” he says then nods to the bartender. “Jack. Neat.”
When the bartender slides his drink across to him, Cash takes a sip then turns to me, as if he’s settling in. “So, why are you here, drinking all by yourself tonight?”
Nervously, I use my thumb nail to scrape at the label on my beer bottle. “I was supposed to be meeting someone, but they had to cancel. After I’d already gotten here, of course,” I explain, bitterness dripping from my voice.
“Want me to kick his ass?” he asks. I look up at him and he’s grinning at me over the top of his glass.
“No. You might be embarrassed when she gets the better of you.”
“Ahhhh, your butch girlfriend?”
His eyes are twinkling. He’s teasing me. And enjoying himself tremendously, apparently. This is more like what I was expecting when I called. Well, not even this much, really. This playfulness is unexpected and very…disarming.
Don’t let him charm you.
But then I think of Ginger’s words again. And I get a little bolder.
“No, I’m not into girls. I very much like…men.”
I can’t help but wonder if the “vampy” in my head comes across as “campy” instead.
Too late.
“I got the feeling you might be last night.”
He arches that one brow and his lips twitch with the smile he’s containing.
Holy shit! He’s so effing sexy.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s kinda hard to describe,” he says, leaning toward me and lowering his voice. “But I’d be happy to show you if you like.”
There’s a dare in his eyes. But I just don’t know if I’m up for all that he’s offering. Can I go there without letting my heart get involved?
I clear my throat and look back at my beer bottle, backing down simply out of a need for self-preservation.
Smart guy that he is, he picks up on the shift in my mood.
“So,” he says in a very nonchalant manner, “tell me all about Olivia.”
I shrug. “There’s not much to tell. I’m from Salt Springs. I grew up on my father’s sheep farm and I’m a senior in college.”
“Wow, a lifetime reduced to two sentences. I’m not sure if I’m impressed or depressed. Were there boyfriends and parties mixed in there? Or…”
I smile. “Yeah, there were a few of each. I wasn’t a wild child, but I wasn’t a shut-in either. Just average, I guess.”
“There’s nothing average about you,” Cash says quietly.
My eyes fly to his. He’s not smiling and he doesn’t appear to be teasing me, which triggers my blush.
“Thank you.”
We stare at each other for a few seconds, right up until the air starts crackling with electricity between us. That’s when I look away.
“So what’s your major?”
“Accounting.”
“Accounting? Accounting is for spinsters who wear their hair in a bun and have a closet full of orthopedic shoes. Why’d you pick accounting?”
I laugh at his vision. “I’m good with numbers. Plus, with an accounting degree I’ll be able to help Dad with the business. It just makes sense.”
“So you’re doing it for your dad?”
“Partly.”
He nods slowly. The expression on his face says he doesn’t believe me, but he says nothing. He just changes the subject.
“What about Mom?”
“She left. A long time ago.”
His eyes narrow on me, but again he says nothing. He’s a very perceptive guy.
“And this bad-boy boyfriend?”
“Bad boy?”
“Yeah. The type you apparently avoid now.”
“Oh, right.” I laugh. It’s one single bark of bitterness. “Ummm, he fell into a wood chipper?” I ask, hoping he’ll get the hint that I don’t really want to talk about him either.
He pauses with his drink halfway to his mouth, as if judging whether or not I’m serious, then he grins and takes a sip.
“Poor guy. And the one before that?”
“Eaten by a shark?”
“And before that?”
“Kidnapped by a travelling circus?”
He chuckles. “Wow. Your life’s like a cautionary tale.”
“Future suitors be warned.”
“I’m willing to take my chances,” he says with a wink.
My stomach flutters in response and my heart does a funny flip that is, in and of itself, a huge red flag.
Change the subject! Change the subject!
“So, what about your family?”
That cools his teasing mood considerably. “A long, horrible story, too awful for the likes of your tender ears.”
“Oh, is that so? So you can ask all kinds of questions, but this is all I get?”
I’m only half teasing. I really do want him to answer some questions, especially while I’ve got my wits about me. Somewhat anyway.