another rescue swimmer he’d flown when they’d been training. Then it hit him. “Isn’t Dylan from Alaska?”
Ian nodded. “Some bad blood there, though. A woman. At least that’s what he was mumbling about before the bartender cut him off. Looks like I’m the DD.” Mark followed Ian’s glance to Dylan, who paced by the bar’s exit. “Besides, better get some shut-eye before the big show.”
“They’re calling it the storm of the century.” Mark swirled the ice cubes in his glass, making them clank together.
Ian leaned his elbows on the table and lowered his voice. “Doing okay?”
Mark jerked his chin up and down while his stomach clenched. “I’ve got it.”
His demons were off-limits.
Ian thumped him on the back again and stood. “Thought so.” He stretched his long arms overhead and a couple of lurking women nudged each other and pointed. “See you on the beach.”
A mirthless laugh escaped Mark. “Yep. Don’t forget the sunscreen.”
With a wave Ian ambled away, trailed by a couple of women. Mark shook his head and lifted his drink.
“Mind if I join you?” asked a silky voice from behind him.
He peered up into the crystal-blue eyes that’d nearly snared him earlier. God. She was an eyeful in an off-the-shoulder short white dress that made him want to slip the elastic neckline lower...or that hemline higher...
Long blond hair shone like a beacon in the dark bar. The woman was classically beautiful but carried herself like she had no clue. She fidgeted with a bracelet and bit her lip as if she was unsure of her reception. Like there was any chance in hell a guy might say no to her.
He swiped away the discarded beer bottles the waitress hadn’t gotten around to picking up from the previous occupants.
“Seat’s all yours.” His gaze wandered over her tanned legs before she dropped into the spot beside him.
She wound her thick hair into a messy topknot, and repositioned a patterned headband to hold things in place. “Wow, this place is packed,” she said, waving her hand in front of her flushed face. “We must be breaking some fire codes.”
As she glanced around the room, his eyes lingered on the profile revealed by her upswept do. Everything about her face was soft and round, from her large blue eyes, to the delicate tip of her nose, and the tender-looking flesh beneath her slightly jutting chin. His fingers itched to touch it.
“Mayday’s has seen worse than this. Is it your first time here?”
“What gave me away?” She did a little eye roll, a self-deprecating gesture that charmed him more than a practiced come-on.
“Most of the regulars don’t bother with conversation.” He pointed out a couple on the dance floor whose groping session was leaving them both overexposed.
“Oh.” She blinked and he’d bet money she blushed, but it was too dark to tell for sure. “How nice for them.” She toasted them with her mostly empty drink.
“I’m Mark.” He held out a hand, unable to resist the excuse to touch her.
“Cassie.” She set down her glass and wiped her hand on a cocktail napkin before folding her fingers around his.
Her touch was cool and impossibly soft, her charm bracelet grazing his skin before she pulled away. The tug of arousal he felt was immediate and too strong to ignore. Which meant sitting with her tonight was going to be more than a distraction.
“Cassie, I’ll be honest with you.” He didn’t want to mislead her and he didn’t know if he could rein himself in when she stirred this kind of response. “I’m not the best company tonight—”
“Maybe you should let me be the judge of that.” Her blue eyes met his head-on with a look that wasn’t quite as innocent, the self-consciousness he’d detected earlier giving way to a mix of teasing determination.
In fact, he suspected this awkward beauty was flirting with him.
He felt his lips twitch. “You think?”
“I’m definitely no bar scene expert, but I know what intrigues a woman. I can be a fair judge.”
“And how exactly are you making your evaluation?”
He might be on edge tonight, but that wasn’t her problem. Besides, something about this woman shrunk the shadows inside him. He’d linger a little longer. Find out more about her.
She leaned in close and he inhaled her honey-and-vanilla scent. This near, he could make out the pale freckles sprinkled across her nose.
“Well.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Let’s get the superficial out of the way first and judge you on your looks.”
The soda burned as he swallowed the wrong way. He appreciated a direct woman. Didn’t encounter as many as he’d like, though. “And how am I doing?”
“On a ten-point scale?” Her eyes slid along the length of him and lingered on his mouth long enough to raise his temperature, his libido firing. “I’d say a nine.”
“And what did I lose a point on?” He shouldn’t be here, flirting with a woman who didn’t have nearly enough hard edges to be a part of his world. But she amused him. And if he left, who would be looking out for her?
She shrugged sun-kissed shoulders, making the left sleeve slide nearly to her elbow. His mouth flooded. A hungry dog drooling over a juicy bone. “Not much, really. But I couldn’t inflate your ego more by giving you a perfect score on your looks.”
“Who said I have an ego?”
She laughed, a tinkling, bubbling sound that sparked like a flare inside him. “Puh-lease. A woman sees confidence on a man from a mile away.”
A smile maneuvered its way around his face. A damned unfamiliar feeling. “Point taken. Next category?”
“Then we’d move on to more important things. Like humor.”
“Can I throw out the judge’s highest and lowest scores?”
“I’m your judge and your jury.” She pointed a swizzle stick at him. “But since that was sort of funny, I’ll let you slide with a seven point five.”
“I’ll take it.” With his mood, he would have scored himself a lot lower, although the night didn’t seem half as dark with Cassie across the table from him. “Is your next category about money?”
“You think that’s all women care about?” She glanced over her shoulder as she said the words, her gaze taking in the men waving green bills at the bartender. “The size of your wallet?”
“That and the size of our—”
“Regardless,” she interrupted. “I was thinking the next category would be class.”
Another sip of soda polished off his drink.
