caution as I answered her. There was something about her that made me think I shouldn’t take what she was offering too lightly.
“My hotel room,” I told her.
For the second time, she met and held my gaze and I saw a range of emotion in her eyes that set me on fire. I thought it must match mine perfectly. Deep desire. Surprise at where this was leading. Well-hidden pain. And an acceptance of the invitation that hung between us.
“Let’s go,” she said, and jerked her head toward the stage. “Before all you can think of is her .”
I couldn’t even have said if the girl on the stage was a blonde or a brunette, whether she was partly nude or fully there. All of it was nothing more than a backdrop for those enormous blue eyes, full of promise and waiting for me to say yes.
I nodded once, and she reached for my hand. The feel of her fingers interlocked with mine sent something akin to an electric current through my arm.
I started to speak, then stopped. What was I going to say? Was I going to admit that I had barely done more than glance at a woman in years? Was I going to explain that the pull, the longing I felt now had everything to do with this girl herself?
I wasn’t sure if I should, and I wasn’t even convinced I could. So I just stood up wordlessly and followed where she led.
Chapter Two
Polly
Reckless.
It was the best word I could think of to describe how I was feeling as I dragged the undeniably handsome man through Tangerines . His intense, green-eyed gaze burned along my back. I didn’t have to glance behind me to know he was watching the extra switch I injected into my walk, and the awareness of the heat of his stare sent an unfamiliar thrill down my spine. Men stared at me all the time. I got paid to let them do it. And I was usually indifferent to their leers.
Butthe second he’d sat down, three stools over, I’d felt the pull. His eyes held none of the usual undressing-you-where-you-stand scrutiny. Instead, they held mystery. Veiled pain. Passion that deserved to be freed. All of it spoke to me. And for the first time in as long as I could remember, I wanted to act on a feeling beyond survival.
Maybe it was because my week was a tough one. Showing up for work when I didn’t even need to be there was just the topper to an already heartbreaking day.
Jayme and I had been fighting since Monday, and the blow up this afternoon had been painful. I was furious at myself for giving in to him again when I needed to be standing up for what was right. The resentment pitted in my chest, aching outward. I had no right to the pain. This life was mine. Chosen by me. Or at least all the actions which led to it were.
I have no right to blame it on Jayme.
But there I was, hours later, still letting my anger cloud my vision and affect my decision-making process. And refusing to go home even though it was where I belonged.
I pulled the green-eyed stranger behind the stage.
“Through here.”
It didn’t matter if the man heard my whispered command or not. There was no way I was letting go of his hand.
Because if you do, you might lose your nerve?
I ignored the nagging voice because it was wrong. Something drew me to the solitary stranger sitting at the bar. Most people in Tangerines were regulars, but the occasional unknown man wasn’t uncommon enough to attract attention.
This one, though…he was different. Maybe it was the set of his shoulders, stiff and not quite comfortable, or the hard line of his back, visible even through the taut material of his plaid shirt. And when he turned his dark eyes toward me, my body heated up, and I felt compelled to see where that would lead.
I couldn’t dare think about what it meant that someone other than Jayme made my heart warm.
I pushed open the door that led to the back halls of the bar. I slowed only slightly once we were in the dark. I had no trouble finding my way through the familiar corridor. But the man behind me wasn’t so experienced, and a
“My hotel room,” I told her.
For the second time, she met and held my gaze and I saw a range of emotion in her eyes that set me on fire. I thought it must match mine perfectly. Deep desire. Surprise at where this was leading. Well-hidden pain. And an acceptance of the invitation that hung between us.
“Let’s go,” she said, and jerked her head toward the stage. “Before all you can think of is her .”
I couldn’t even have said if the girl on the stage was a blonde or a brunette, whether she was partly nude or fully there. All of it was nothing more than a backdrop for those enormous blue eyes, full of promise and waiting for me to say yes.
I nodded once, and she reached for my hand. The feel of her fingers interlocked with mine sent something akin to an electric current through my arm.
I started to speak, then stopped. What was I going to say? Was I going to admit that I had barely done more than glance at a woman in years? Was I going to explain that the pull, the longing I felt now had everything to do with this girl herself?
I wasn’t sure if I should, and I wasn’t even convinced I could. So I just stood up wordlessly and followed where she led.
Chapter Two
Polly
Reckless.
It was the best word I could think of to describe how I was feeling as I dragged the undeniably handsome man through Tangerines . His intense, green-eyed gaze burned along my back. I didn’t have to glance behind me to know he was watching the extra switch I injected into my walk, and the awareness of the heat of his stare sent an unfamiliar thrill down my spine. Men stared at me all the time. I got paid to let them do it. And I was usually indifferent to their leers.
Butthe second he’d sat down, three stools over, I’d felt the pull. His eyes held none of the usual undressing-you-where-you-stand scrutiny. Instead, they held mystery. Veiled pain. Passion that deserved to be freed. All of it spoke to me. And for the first time in as long as I could remember, I wanted to act on a feeling beyond survival.
Maybe it was because my week was a tough one. Showing up for work when I didn’t even need to be there was just the topper to an already heartbreaking day.
Jayme and I had been fighting since Monday, and the blow up this afternoon had been painful. I was furious at myself for giving in to him again when I needed to be standing up for what was right. The resentment pitted in my chest, aching outward. I had no right to the pain. This life was mine. Chosen by me. Or at least all the actions which led to it were.
I have no right to blame it on Jayme.
But there I was, hours later, still letting my anger cloud my vision and affect my decision-making process. And refusing to go home even though it was where I belonged.
I pulled the green-eyed stranger behind the stage.
“Through here.”
It didn’t matter if the man heard my whispered command or not. There was no way I was letting go of his hand.
Because if you do, you might lose your nerve?
I ignored the nagging voice because it was wrong. Something drew me to the solitary stranger sitting at the bar. Most people in Tangerines were regulars, but the occasional unknown man wasn’t uncommon enough to attract attention.
This one, though…he was different. Maybe it was the set of his shoulders, stiff and not quite comfortable, or the hard line of his back, visible even through the taut material of his plaid shirt. And when he turned his dark eyes toward me, my body heated up, and I felt compelled to see where that would lead.
I couldn’t dare think about what it meant that someone other than Jayme made my heart warm.
I pushed open the door that led to the back halls of the bar. I slowed only slightly once we were in the dark. I had no trouble finding my way through the familiar corridor. But the man behind me wasn’t so experienced, and a
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