She wears dark jeans that hug her hips and tight little ass, along with a navy silk tank top that reveals enough cleavage to leave me wanting more. A single strand of gold around her neck with a heart-shaped charm. And she said she doesn’t believe in wishes.
Her chestnut brown hair falls in soft waves around her face, ruby lips curved into a tentative smile. I already can tell she doesn’t suffer fools.
Everything about her captivates me.
The mist that rolls in each night is so thick it almost feels like rain against the back of my neck, but I’m not getting wet.
“New at what?”
“One-night stands. Or whatever.” She throws her hands out to the sides but takes a step closer to me and licks her lips.
She’s cute. She’s also lying. She has to be. She’s too good at this.
My bark of laughter should tell her it’s been a while since anyone has made me laugh. That joke about the sailor and the nun wasn’t nearly as funny as she is.
“One-night stands, eh? I’m just showing you to a clean restroom.” I hold up my hands like an innocent man. After that serial killer comment, I think she can take some teasing.
Her face falls like I’ve punched her in the gut, and I’m relieved that she wants this as much as I do, though I feel a little terrible that I’ve caused this reaction. Just as quickly, she recovers her composure, standing a little taller. “Oh, please. Hot guy in a bar suggests we ‘go somewhere?’ Come on, Fitz. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
She charms the hell out of me. Confident, but then she looks at the ground, like there’s maybe a 5 percent chance that she’s read me wrong.
I’m betting her cheeks are flushed, and I want to know for sure.
With a knuckle, I tip her chin up so she’s forced to look at me. Her jaw is fixed, mouth turned down. And sure enough, there’s that blush. “Hey. Don’t beat yourself up. It happens all the time. I guess I just give off that vibe. Then again…” I shrug. “Not saying it’s off the table.”
Her expression softens, and the blush deepens. Fucking gorgeous. “I’m just saying I don’t pick up guys in bars for one-night stands.”
“You did make a wish.”
Her eyes heat, those blue irises almost blotted out, and she lets out a shaky breath. “Excuse me?”
“What was your wish?”
Her answer tangles with a sigh. “This.”
I don’t give her a chance at another word. Gripping her hand, I pull her against my chest, savoring the way her soft curves mold into me. Her eyes are wide for a different reason now, and I take the moment to stare into them, wondering if it’s really possible to meet another person’s soul this way. I’ve never had an interest or reason to know before now.
She goes so still that I can see her pulse under the pale skin of her neck. Her eyes are glassy, and I don’t think it’s from those frilly drinks at the bar.
“How many drinks did you have tonight?”
She meets my gaze, steady and clear. “Barely finished one. Whatever I’m feeling, I assure you it’s not the drinks.”
My heart drums inside my rib cage, and I almost forget that there’s air all around us that I could be breathing.
I wrap my other hand into her hair, pulling the strands back over her shoulder so I can see more of her face. Her features are soft in the moonlight. High, rounded cheekbones, full parted lips, and a small worry line in her forehead. I want to make that go away.
I also want to feel that same electric charge I experienced earlier when I ran my finger down her cheek, so I do it again, hoping the magic is still there.
No, it’s even better.
Her audible gasp tells me she feels something, too, but it can’t be anything like my hammering heart behind my ribs, my anticipation of the moment our lips meet.
I want to tease her a while longer, lingering with my face here, inches from hers, watching her eyes drift shut in anticipation...
Feel her breath…until…
I can’t bear the torture…