“Thank you again,” I said as he handed the bartender his credit card.
He held his glass in the air, near mine, smiling. “To the morning and everything that happens in between.”
I laughed, clicking my Prosecco to his scotch, and it felt like a warmth had crept over me, even before I put my lips to the glass and swallowed.
“You’re friends with Molly?” he asked, nodding in the direction in which she had walked, where our large group had a table and several couches.
“We were roommates in college. Still are.”
He took the card back from the bartender, and in one swift movement, he had the billfold open, the pen in his hand, and his signature on the bottom of the receipt. When a copy of the bill was tucked into his pocket, his hand went to the small of my back, and he guided me through the crowd. Before we reached our table, he paused in front of one of the nooks. Inside the small space was a couch, dim lighting, and privacy.
And this one just happened to be vacant.
“Do you want to sit?” He was holding out his arm, giving me the option to go either way.
I chose the quieter one and ducked into the nook.
When he sat next to me, I got a whiff of his cologne again, and I smiled as I took it in. “If you work with Marshall, you must be an attorney.”
Marshall had just passed the bar last year and was still fresh to the business. But I got the feeling Lance had more experience and was a few years older, putting him at around thirty.
“I am.” He spread his arms across the back of the couch and nodded. “Tell me what you do.”
“I work for a marketing agency.”
Those navy eyes continued to stare at me, but something in them changed. In fact, they felt like they were looking right through me.
“There’s more.”
I laughed. He really was an attorney who had read me so easily.
Before I let my brain process that piece of information, I said, “I wish there were more.”
“You don’t like your job?”
I crossed my legs, leaning my shoulder into the back cushion as I aimed more of my body toward him. “I like it enough. I’m only in my first year, and aside from an internship at the same company, I don’t have a lot of experience.”
“Where would you go if you had a choice?”
I took a drink, savoring the bubbly flavor, trying not to lose myself in his stare. “I’d love to work for a start-up and help build their market from scratch or work for an established company to expand its international presence.”
“You just described most of my clients.”
I smiled, rubbing the base of the glass over my thigh. “Maybe I’ll come park myself in your lobby and beg one of your clients for an interview.”
“I don’t think you’d have to beg, Chloe.”
It was the way he’d said it that had me reaching for words. Because the ones I was going to say were gone. Forgotten. And the only thing I could grasp at this moment was his gaze.
“Where are you from?” he asked.
I felt sparks of energy run through me, and I knew they weren’t from the Red Bull.
“Camden,” I said. “It’s a small town on the coast of Maine. How about you? Did you go to school here?”
My eyes dropped to his tie and cuff links, the expensive-looking watch that kept peeking out of his shirt.
“I grew up in Connecticut, did my undergraduate at Tufts, and went to Yale for law school.”
There was such smoothness in the way he spoke, like words came as easy to him as opening a billfold and signing his name.
I wanted to know more.
“Tell me something, Lance …” I felt a tightness in my chest, especially when he swallowed a sip of his drink, his tongue slowly swiping across his lip to lick off the rest of the scotch. “What does fun look like to you?”
He definitely didn’t seem to be the type who would stand on a table in the middle of a bar and sing congratulations or even someone who would tell his friend to do it. Lance was more the type to own the bar.
When he turned his glass, still staring at me, the one large square cube rattled against the sides. “I ski in the winter and go to the Cape in the summer. I like being on the water or on a mountain.”
Or inside a woman.
I saw the words on his face; he just didn’t say them.
While his unspoken thoughts passed through me, a heat moving with it, I said, “Maine has some of the best skiing.”
“I go to either Sugarloaf or Sunday River almost every weekend in the winter.”
He could have chosen to go to New Hampshire or Vermont, even the Berkshires—they all had amazing trails. But the two mountains he’d listed were both in Maine, and for some reason, I found that extremely attractive.
“What does Chloe do for fun?”
I looked away, needing a break from his piercing gaze to think about his question. But it didn’t give me the pause I needed because his presence alone was consuming me.
“Does sleep count?”
He smiled, and it was painfully beautiful.
“I’ve been working so much; I haven’t been out walking or even hanging with Molly as much as I want. I would say traveling is my real passion.”
The lines in his forehead deepened when he asked, “Where’s the best place you’ve been?”
“London.” As I took a breath, memories began to flash in my head. “I studied there for a semester during my junior year. It was a magical time.”
Lance’s stare was so far inside me; it felt like he was watching the same memories of London play out in my head.
“Where’s the next trip?”
I brought the Prosecco up to my lips. “Vail. I go next week. It’s for work, but I hear the drive from Denver is magnificent.”
He wiped his mouth with his fingers, drawing my attention to both. And both were seductive for entirely different reasons.
“It is,” he said, “and so is their skiing.”
“They won’t have enough snow while I’m there, but I’m going to get some hiking in.”
“Mmm,” he responded like he was tasting something delicious, and then he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out his phone, staring at the screen. “Chloe, you will have to excuse me for a second. This is a client.” He held the phone up to his ear and stepped out of the nook, moving several paces away.
I quickly opened my clutch and checked my phone, seeing a text from Molly on the screen.
Molly: OMG. Just OMG. Yes to Lance. So. Many. Yeses.
As I glanced up, he was turning around. Our eyes caught, and his followed me all the way back to his seat. The heat was certainly there, but I could tell something had changed and that he didn’t like it.
“Unfortunately, Chloe, I have to go.”
I felt my lips smile. “Lance … this was fun.”
He moved to the edge of the couch, and his knee briefly brushed mine. The feeling of the fabric against me sent a scorching wave of heat across my skin.
“Should I get your number from Marshall, or do you want to give it to me right now?”
My heart began to beat so fast; I was positive he could hear it. At the very least, my face was giving it away that my pulse was skyrocketing.
I put my hand on my chest to calm it. And as I said my number, he typed it into his phone, and slid it back into his pocket before he reached forward.