Page 46 of Tempt Me

“I told you to call me John.”

“Right. Hi, John.” I much preferred to keep it all formal with him.

“You look lovely. Have you got a date?”

My insides squirmed at his inquisitiveness. We rarely had a conversation, and that was exactly how I preferred it. “Lunch with a girlfriend,” I said as I continued my stride across the marble expanse, praying my six-inch heels didn’t have me face-planting on the shiny surface.

“Okay, then. Have fun.”

I felt his eyes on me even as I marched through the sliding glass doors.

My Uber arrived within seconds of me reaching the stairs and I slipped into the backseat.

“Marina Mirage, please.”

The driver wafted odors of garlic, sweat, and stale cigarettes that emanated from the front seat like a cloud, and deciding I’d rather have wind-blown hair than suffer the nasty stench, I wound down the window and inhaled the fresh sea breeze.

The scent of the ocean was one of the simple pleasures I enjoyed every day since I’d moved to the Gold Coast. Having grown up on a farm, surrounded by cow paddocks pockmarked with manure covered in swarming flies, it was a wonder the smell of cow shit wasn’t permanently etched into my sinuses.

Many people loved the scent of the country. Not me. Give me the ocean any day.

At the marina, I stepped from the Uber and was greeted with the elegant symphony of ropes clanging on giant ship masts. The extensive marina berths were occupied with boats ranging across a wide variety of price brackets. A couple even had their own helicopter riding atop their sleek lines.

As I made my way to Sunset Waterfront restaurant, my heels clicked along the boardwalk that hovered over the water by some clever architectural miracle. Scents of carefully prepared meals drifted from the abundant restaurants, begging for my attention via overzealous waiters in crisp white shirts.

I heard Lolita’s laugh long before I saw her, and I grinned as I climbed the stairs to the restaurant. My timing was perfect, right at midday. As I arrived at the top of the steps, loud drumming rumbled from a three-piece band set up on the stage in the corner.

The smile fell from my face, and my stomach just about hurled out of my mouth when I saw the man on the drums. It was my Jamaican hunk, Dontrel Lewis.

His body glistened with a fine sheen, showing off both exquisite biceps and the intricate tattoo of the flames that I’d been lucky enough to see up close. His voice sang a lover’s song, drawing me in with its beautiful melody. The man was a god.

“Jane. Jane, we’re here.” Lolita waved at me from a table to my left, and I lifted my mandarin-colored bag to shield my face as I made my way past the stage to her table.

I expected Lolita and Calvin to be at lunch, but my already tumultuous stomach hit volcano mode at the sight of the third person at the table. Clayton, the single dad she’d already tried to set me up with once before, sat opposite them. If I could glare at Lolly without the men seeing me, I would have. She knew how much I hated surprises, especially the blind date kind.

“Hey, babe, you look fucking gorgeous.” Lolita hugged me and kissed both my cheeks.

“I can’t believe you did this,” I whisper-hissed in her ear.

“Look who’s here,” she said like it was a surprise to her too. It wouldn’t be. She was obsessed with solving my single status. “You remember Clayton?”

“Yes, of course.” I nodded at him. “Hi, Clayton.”

“Hello. You look lovely.”

“Thank you.”

The way they were seated ensured I had to sit next to him. Lolita was definitely attempting another matchmaking session with us. I stepped around the table and leaned over Calvin to kiss his cheek. “Happy birthday.” I placed his gift in front of him.

“Awww, you didn’t have to.” Calvin paused for barely a second before he ripped open the wrapping like an excited child would.

He plucked the miniature silver guitar cufflinks from the velvet box and twirled them in his fingers. “These are great. Thanks, Jane.”

“You’re welcome.” I shuffled to my chair, and Clayton stood, reaching for my hand. When he leaned in to kiss my cheek, I smelled his delightfully scented cologne. He tugged my chair out to help me sit.

“Thank you,” I said as I sat.

As Calvin poured me a glass of wine, the music picked up its beat, and I could easily picture Dontrel’s dreadlocks dancing about his face as he pummeled the taut leather on the drum.

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