soft words yanked Hunter away from his thoughts. The woman from the bar stood with one hand on the chair next to his, her blue eyes wide and uncertain. Her other hand maintained a death grip on her glass. Nerves, he guessed. She might be playing the part of the brazen blonde tonight, but he’d bet his next paycheck that casting come-hither looks at strangers wasn’t a habit.
Hunter smiled and stood to pull a chair out for her. “Please.” He extended his hand. “Hunter Cross. And you are?”
“Maggie.” She shook his hand and then slipped into the chair. He’d noticed the smooth expanse of skin exposed by her backless shirt when she’d been at the bar, but seeing her up close made him want to touch, to run his hand over the place where her bra line should be, but wasn’t. He moved back to his chair to admire the view from the front. Little Miss Maggie’s taut nipples strained against the thin fabric.
God help him, he loved breasts. And full braless breasts? They drove him wild.
The woman who now stood beside him looked as if she’d gotten lost on her way home from a cruise ship. “Three questions and then I’ll leave you two alone.”
Little Miss Maggie’s friend had rushed over to “help.” Great. But he didn’t try to send her back to her ship. He merely nodded, prepared to face the interrogation. “Okay.”
“Are you married?” she demanded.
“Fair question.” He didn’t take his eyes off her face. He could understand a friend looking out for her own. “No, ma’am.”
“Are you a soldier?”
Hunter hesitated. He knew lots of women picked up soldiers. As a rule, he tried to steer clear of them. Women on the hunt for a hero wanted commitment no matter how much they pretended otherwise. Marriage might be perfect for Riley, but the last thing Hunter needed was another person to support.
He glanced at Maggie. The brazen blonde who’d approached him sat biting her lower lip, her brow furrowed as if she was trying to decide whether she should punch her friend or turn tail and run. He lowered his gaze to her chest. Hunter wanted her to stay. Badly.
“Yes, ma’am.” He met the friend’s challenging gaze. “Army.”
His interrogator frowned and turned to Miss Maggie. “He’s not a mechanic.”
A mechanic? Seriously? He’d never heard of women trying to pick up mechanics. Maybe New York ladies were more practical. Why snag a soldier when you could have someone around to fix your car?
But he couldn’t let Miss Maggie walk away because he didn’t take apart engines for a living. He smiled. “I’m not. But I know how to change a tire.”
“Great,” Maggie said, her brow relaxing.
“Are you a general?” her friend demanded.
He let out a bark of laughter. A general? What the hell? Sure, some women went after navy SEALs. Maybe some even wanted army rangers. But autoworkers and generals?
“No, ma’am.”
Maggie’s friend gave him a long, hard look as if she thought he might be lying, and then to his surprise nodded. “Good.” She looked down at Maggie. “I’ll take a cab home. Call me tomorrow.” She waved as she walked toward the exit, blinding everyone in the tent as the light caught her shockingly pink shoes.
Hunter shook his head and reclaimed his chair. “What do you have against generals?”
“They intimidate me.”
“But I don’t?”
She smiled and leaned toward him. “Oh, no, you do. But for other reasons.”
“Such as?” If she was looking to secure a soldier, she was sure going about it differently. Most ladies asked a few questions about his latest trip overseas and then declared him “sooo brave,” at which point Hunter walked away.
Nothing but a direct order could drag him away from Maggie.
“Reason number one, I haven’t done this before.” She waved her free hand through the air. The other hand remained glued to her glass. “Pick up someone. A man. At a car show refreshment tent.”
He nodded. Bold with a serious case of nerves. And she’d chosen him for her first time. Why? he wondered. His eyes dropped south. They’d get back to the whys. Right now, he wanted to get her naked. But first she had a list of reasons. Hunter grinned. Little Miss Maggie was both beautiful and amusing. For a woman like her, he could afford a little patience. “And reason number two?”
She pursed her full lips, drawing his gaze to her mouth. The sight of her nipples had attracted his interest, but her mouth? The thought of those pink lips touching him went straight to his groin. Hunter reached for his pint glass.
“I’m trying to decide what I need to know about you before we end up in bed together.”
He coughed and sputtered, nearly covering the front of her shirt with the remains of his beer. Once he’d regained his composure somewhat—his dick was harder than ever—he pushed back from the table. “You think about that and I’ll get us another round. What are you drinking?”
“Water.”
Hunter sidled up to the bar, ordered two waters and paid for the earlier beers with Riley’s cash. He’d found the perfect woman, or rather she’d found him—easy on the budget and eager to jump into bed with him. He’d met more women than he could count who swore up and down they did not want a relationship, but brazen-yet-sometimes-shy Maggie was the first he suspected who might mean exactly what she said.
The bartender placed two glasses and a stack of singles in front of him. Hunter took the hint and left a big tip. It was easy to be generous with Riley’s cash. Once he got Sierra out of rehab and employed—God help him—he could afford to drop large tips with his own money. Pushing the less-than-pleasant thoughts away, he went back to the table.
“Your water, Miss Maggie.” He slid the glass in front of her.
The corner of her mouth turned up. “Thank you.”
He picked up his chair and flipped it around. Straddling the seat, his arms resting on the low wooden back, he asked, “So, what would you like to know?”
She stared down at the table a moment then asked, “Do you live around here, or are you just visiting?”
He’d never had the luxury of honestly and openly interrogating the women he met, but if he’d been in her shoes he would have asked the same thing. His gaze ran down her jeans-clad legs—not long, but a good fit for her height—and landed on her lofty heels. Okay, so bacon might sprout wings before he’d wear those supersexy shiny white things, but it was still a good question. “Just visiting. A work thing next week.”
A hint of a smile flashed across her face and her stick-straight posture eased. Relief, he guessed. He waited for her to ask him where he was from, how long he’d been in the army or what exactly he did, which he couldn’t tell her, but Miss Maggie didn’t say a word. “Anything else?”
She drew a deep breath and stared at her water. For a fleeting second, he wondered if he’d read
