Chapter 2
739 Words
2
“Scotch neat.”
The bartender nodded at the man standing next to Bryna at the bar and grabbed the top-shelf liquor.
Perfect.
Bryna tipped back the last of her martini and set it down on the counter. She licked her lips. “One more for me.”
The man turned to take her in. His eyes snagged on her slinky royal-blue dress, her chest popping out of the deep scoop neck. Then he looked up into her baby-blue eyes. He grinned. “Put that on my tab.”
She met his gaze and arched an eyebrow. “Thanks.”
“I’ve never seen you here before,” he said a moment later.
“Maybe you weren’t looking hard enough.”
Oh, he liked that.
He angled his tall muscular body toward her. His hair was dark as night, cut short and styled like a European soccer player. His eyes were milk chocolate and danced in the dim light. “I’m glad I’ve found you now.”
A smile stretched across her face. She couldn’t disagree with him.
He splayed his hand out on the bar to reach for the scotch resting before him, and her stomach dropped.
Third finger on the left hand.
Silver band.
Married.
It might as well have been a brand on his skin. It was screaming at her to walk away.
No. Don’t walk.
Run. Run far away from this.
Bad, bad idea.
She dropped the seductive smile from her face. As soon as the martini was set in front of her, she took the drink and backed away. She wouldn’t do that. Even flirting with him made her skin crawl. She liked bad ideas, but she had lines she wouldn’t cross. Her parents’ marriage had been torn apart by this very thing. Her stepmother, Celia, had destroyed everything sacred, walked across every line, and forced Bryna’s father to leave her mother.
Vows were supposed to mean something, and Celia hadn’t cared about them. Bryna barely saw her father now as he was always out working on-site. Instead of moving out with her mother, she had stayed in his house with that wretched woman because of Harmony. She only had one year left. Leaving now and starting over at some other school would be impossible.
“Are you all right?” he asked, lightly placing his right hand on her slim shoulder.
She recoiled from his touch. How dare he!
“You’re married,” she spat.
“Oh.”
He looked down at his hand, and his face fell. The sadness in his eyes was all-encompassing before he recovered and locked everything away inside of him. She only recognized the reaction because she had been doing it every day for the last year as her whole world had split apart, leaving her in perpetual free fall.
“I’m…we’re separated.” He slid the ring from his finger and held it out in front of him. “Honestly, I forgot I had it on.”
She pursed her lips. She didn’t want him to bullshit her. Who forgot they were wearing a goddamn wedding ring?
“You don’t believe me,” he said, taking in her appearance. He tucked the ring into his pocket, out of sight.
“My tolerance for married men is very low.”
He smirked. “Daddy issues?”
“Like you’d never believe.”
“Let me guess. He left her for a younger woman.”
“Bingo.”
“Well, I’m not in that situation.”
She shook her head. “Nor will I be, which is why I have to say good-bye.”
“Stay.”
Her eyes met his, and he wasn’t exactly pleading with her. It was more of a command, more of a desire to get to know her, to find out what was making her run so easily.
“I won’t be made a fool of,” she told him.
“I know.”
“You’re not with her?”
“No,” he answered immediately.
She narrowed her eyes, and he knowingly met her gaze. No hidden agenda. Just a mirror of the emotions skittering through her.
“Fine.” She snapped her fingers at the bartender. “Tequila shots, please.” She held up two fingers.
The bartender poured the shots for them, and they knocked them back. The liquid burned down her throat, but she ignored the pain as she sucked on the lime. His eyes traveled to her lips. She purposely licked the juice off her finger. Her tongue swirled her thumb, and he watched her with utter fascination and longing.
He possessed none of the idiocy of the guys she had dated before, not even Gates. The person in front of her was a man. And completely delectable. At the youngest, he was in his late twenties. No less than ten years older than her seventeen years.
Even before he ever made the first move, she knew that he knew what he was doing to her with that look.
- Writer
