picked up a lollipop first thing, watching him watch her bring the food to her mouth, take a bite. Gauntlet thrown, she sipped her second drink and waited to see what he’d do.
He started with a couple of fries. Slow moving, deliberate, and his gaze on hers never wavered. As he chewed, his jaw muscle flexed in a way that made her blush. He couldn’t tell, not in this light, yet his thick right eyebrow rose along with the corners of his mouth.
She grinned back, pleased he’d decided to play. Somehow the music had become smoky jazz, and the heat from the temperature-controlled floor slipped up her dress all the way to her very pretty, very naughty La Perla panties.
Through it all, the ordering, the waiting, the cute young waitress flirting with Jake as she set down their plates, Jake hadn’t once lost the thread of their conversation. Rebecca wasn’t sure if they were at the third or fourth level now that they’d reached ex-lovers territory.
“She was great,” he said, using his napkin. “And I like to think I’m a reasonably adventurous guy, but when she started talking plushies …” He shook his head, grabbed a tiny artichoke.
“Plushies. You mean dressing up like stuffed animals plushies?”
“I do. I hope that’s not your thing, but I’d have to say right up front that nope, not gonna go there. I like my partners to be human. It’s a radical stance, but one I’m not going to budge on.”
“Where do you stand on aliens who look humanoid?”
He thought a minute. “Depends. Do they really look like humans, or are they lizard people in disguise?”
“I see your point. I always draw the line at shape-shifters. I include vampires in that, by the way.”
“Damn. There goes my plans for the rest of the night.”
She laughed again, charmed. Not so much at the obvious quip but at his delivery. Very dry. Very … sexy. “Nothing wrong with a little nip here and there,” she said.
He cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. “I agree,” he said, putting his napkin on the table. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
As he walked away, Rebecca let herself linger on the breadth of his shoulders, the length of his legs. He might have a limp, but there was still a swagger to him that had her crossing her legs.
When he got back, she would bring up the room. They hadn’t eaten too much and had only two drinks each. If they wanted dessert later they could order from room service. Everything about the evening led her to believe he was amenable, even though they hadn’t yet touched.
While she could, she retrieved her mirror from her purse. After a fresh coat of lipstick, she stuck a breath strip in her mouth, realizing too late that it didn’t go with vodka gimlets. At all. A quick shudder, then she closed her purse, aware of the room itself for the first time since she’d stepped off the elevator.
There was a sizable crowd for a Tuesday night. Most everyone was in business attire, upscale. While she saw people on the prowl, the atmosphere was not that of a pickup bar. Here, the desperation wouldn’t start until around 3:00 a.m.
She wondered what Charlie and Bree were doing and almost got out her cell to text, but no, Bree could wait on Rebecca’s report. Tonight felt private, different. In other circumstances, she’d have felt this evening was a beginning. She liked him a lot. More than anyone she’d been out with in years.
On the other hand, maybe knowing this was a singular event had made this ease possible. They weren’t at a relationship audition. Sex, yes, but she figured they’d nailed that about five minutes in.
The conversation had gone from philosophy to her explaining the intricacies of preparing lunches and trading them at a church basement, and then somehow they’d landed at exes. Hers, she realized, had all fizzled due to boredom. No, that wasn’t fair. There had been reasons she’d gone out with those few men for longer than a handful of months, but there had been no grand passions. Weirdly, she’d felt perfectly comfortable telling Jake just that.
There he was. Smiling from across the room. She watched as he maneuvered through people and tables.
When he sat down, he covered her hand with his. “I took the liberty of booking a room here tonight. I won’t lie and say I wouldn’t be disappointed if you don’t want to join me, but I’ll also take it like a man.”
She turned her hand over and squeezed his fingers. “The only problem with that is I already have a room here. And since I’m the one who instigated this evening, I win the coin toss.”
He studied her for a long minute. “Wow. That’s … Full disclosure, though. I lied about taking it like a man.”
She grinned. God, he was adorable. “If you’re finished, why don’t I put this on the tab, and we go down to cancel your reservation?”
He fetched his wallet from his pocket. “I’ll be taking care of this. But thanks for the offer.”
They wrapped it up, he put on a dark knee-length coat she hadn’t even noticed, then held the back of her chair while she stood. An old-fashioned move, but one she didn’t mind. Especially because she was a little wobbly. Not from the booze; she hadn’t had enough to faze her. From the touching. The “any second now, don’t know where things are going to go” touching.
After she picked up her purse, he slipped his hand around hers. It wasn’t like the handshake, not at all. It was just … wonderful.
WALKING WITH REBECCA TO the front desk reminded him of his prom. Not the dance, but afterward, going into the hotel in Brooklyn with Antoinette Fallucci on his arm. He’d been in a terrible borrowed tux that was too tight in the crotch even discounting the fact that he’d been seventeen, but Antoinette had looked like a princess in her strapless dress, and she’d been the homecoming queen, a cheerleader and without doubt the most beautiful and popular girl in his senior class. He’d strutted into that hotel. This time, he played it a little cooler, but he did feel that thrill, knowing he was with the best one, that every man in the place was jealous.
It had nothing to do with her being a Winslow. The subject hadn’t come up and he didn’t expect it to. Not when there were so many other interesting things to talk about.
He smiled as they waited for a desk clerk. She smiled in return and he wanted to kiss her. He’d stood close to her in the elevator, gotten a whiff of her perfume, and the effect still sizzled through his veins. He had no idea what the scent was, only that it made him want to spend a hell of a long time exploring that long, graceful neck of hers.
That they’d barely touched was both horrible and hot. He knew she’d be soft, but that was far too vague. How different soft was between the shell of an ear, the skin just under a belly button. His gaze drifted down as he realized there was no word for how it would feel to run his fingers across her inner thigh.
Shit, if he was going to be thinking like that, he should button his coat. Hide the evidence. Thankfully, the woman who’d made his reservation earlier called them to the desk.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“We double-booked. Miscommunication. I hope it’s not too late to cancel.”
“Mr. Donnelly, right?”
Surprised
