Which reminds me of Mr. Brown Eyes, but I shake the image of him out of my head.
“So, what’s the word on Robert?” she asks, and I inadvertently groan. She cocks an eyebrow. “That bad, huh?”
I use my straw to twirl the ice in my rum and Coke, trying not to make a face as I think about the last raging argument Robert and I had. “Ugh. I don’t want to talk about him tonight. Let’s just say I’ve been unlucky in the love department. I’m free as a bird. Ready to see where the wind takes me.”
Sunny holds her hands up. “Say no more.” Then a devious smile crosses her lips and it kind of scares me. “I know just what you need. It’s perfect, really. A summer fling.”
I start to protest, but then I think… Why not?
Sunny must see it on my face, because her grin deepens.
As I take a sip of my drink, I debate telling her about the mystery man, wondering if she knows who he is. Hell, if he’s what I’ve been missing out on the last four years, I could kick myself for staying away.
“It’s my first night here, so let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I tell her, deciding not to spill the beans. Knowing Sunny, she’d send us off with a box of condoms and a couple of bottles of Boone’s Farm, telling us to have fun in the back of Joe’s truck. “But…I suppose, if the right guy were to come long, I wouldn’t be opposed. After all, Grams did tell me to let my hair down this summer.”
Sunny’s gaze flicks to somewhere behind me; then her lips curve into a mischievous grin. “Good. ’Cause there’s a wicked-hot guy who can’t seem to take his eyes off you. And, honey, if it weren’t for Joe givin’ me the business so damn well, this one would definitely turn my head.”
I groan. “Sunny, I didn’t need to hear that. If you recall, I once caught the man streaking across the football field underneath a full moon just because Sam dared him to. I’ve seen his business. Don’t need to hear about how good it is.”
Her eyes gleam with devilish delight. “Meems, you saw the boy. Trust me, he is all man now, and my how he’s grown.”
“If you’re going to swoon over Joe, can you do it elsewhere?” I tease.
She chuckles. “You take one look at the man eyeing you and you’ll be swooning just like me.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
As much as I want to swivel in my chair and check out this mystery man, I don’t. Instead, I fiddle with my straw and feign disinterest.
Sunny laughs, reading me correctly. She flips a coin to me and gestures towards the jukebox. “Go play me a song, Amelia.”
I roll my eyes, knowing she’s trying to get me into closer proximity to this man. But I comply, sliding off my stool and turning around, eager to get a glimpse.
The thing is…when I do, I don’t see anyone looking at me.
Not wanting to be obvious, I force myself not to scan the room. Then I turn back to get a hint from Sunny, but she’s already at the other end of the bar, pouring a drink. With a shrug to myself, I cross to the jukebox and start clicking through, trying to find something different than the Johnny Cash that’s been frequently playing. It’s summer in the South, so I’m not surprised, but I’m ready for something with a bit more pep.
When I come across Michael Jackson’s “Rock With You,” I know I’ve hit the jackpot. And when I plop back onto my barstool, Sunny’s laughing.
“Subtle, Amelia. Subtle.”
I give her a coy grin then suck the rest of my drink down with my straw. I’m not exactly putting on a show. Hell, maybe I am. I don’t really care.
Whatever it is, it works.
Sunny’s eyes widen. Without a word, she steps back and mumbles something about getting me a refill.
“I’d ask if this seat’s taken, but I’ve been watchin’ you for the better part of an hour and I know it’s not.”
I turn to give him a sassy retort, but the words escape me when I take in the sight of the man looming over me.
Just as I hoped, it’s him. And what I saw of him in my car earlier didn’t do him justice.
He’s big. Like…really big. I really kind of dig it.
His hulking figure towers over me. A plain white T does little to hide thick, muscular biceps. As much as I want to take his physique in even more, I force myself to look up only to be taken in by rich, warm brown eyes that seem to dance at my perusal. Rich, warm, familiar brown eyes.
Oh, yes. I’ve just found my mystery man.
Or, rather, he found me, just like he promised he would. I find I’m not even mad about it. Pretty pleased, in fact.
I blink a couple of times, wondering if I’m just imagining it, but when I reopen them, yep, it’s definitely him. The stranger who fell into my car, tried to charm me, and then left with that stupid, cocky grin on his face, like he sensed the attraction in the air. Because of course he could. Only now, with him standing over me and not scrunched up in my Mustang, I get a better look at him.
He’s grinning down at me with that same cocky expression. My cheeks instantly flame, and I pray that he doesn’t mention to Sunny how I was being a wuss who couldn’t drive in a thunderstorm earlier today. He doesn’t. Instead, he clears his throat and I realize he’s waiting for a response.
“I can appreciate a man who doesn’t ask questions he already knows the answer to,” I reply, trying not to give away just how damn attractive I find him.
His mouth twists up into a panty-melting smile. He leans forward, his lips nearly touching my ear. “And I can appreciate a woman who likes to suck on her straw precisely the way you do.”
I catch my breath at the innuendo, even though it’s exactly what I was going for.
“I’m—” he starts, but I’m quick to cut him off.
“Don’t care. Just like I said earlier.”
I care. I really frickin’ do. I’m simply not letting him in on that fact. Not yet.
“Meow,” he murmurs. “Come on, kitty. Put those claws away and come out to play.”
Did he serious just call me kitty? I cast a glare up to him, and once again, he remains unaffected.
“Feisty. I like it. You should know, Sally, it only turns me on more. Just like those continuous glare you keeping aimin’ in my direction.”
Right. Like I said, cocky. Arrogant. Infuriating. And downright gorgeous. The only thing keeping me from telling him he can stop with the innuendo is the fact that I’m actually enjoying it.
He lingers for just a moment before rising away from me. Then he takes the stool next to me, falling onto it. He’s facing me, with one forearm resting on the bar, the other stretched out on the back of his stool. His eyes flick to my empty drink then he gestures to Sunny with two fingers. A moment later, two new rum and Cokes appear on the bar, and Sunny silently disappears. He pushes the glass across the bar until it’s in front of me. I glance from the drink to him, tilting my head.
“My mother taught me to never accept a drink from a stranger.”
“Good thing you seemed pretty chummy with the bartender before I came over, then,” he quips, not missing a beat.
Quick wit to go along with wicked good looks? This seems promising.
“I’m Knox,” he informs me, holding his hand out to me as if he wants to shake, but then he takes it back.