Page 2 of Stone

She’d like a guy first. A good one. If he wasn’t hard on the eyes and good in bed, that would be an added bonus.

But apparently finding the right guy was a tall order.

She lifted her drink again, and enjoyed feeling some of her stress melt away. She glanced across the bar and her gaze fell on a man walking through the crowd.

She froze with her glass in front of her mouth. Holy hell.

Her chest locked. Silver Fox alert.

The man was tall, with very broad shoulders. He was wearing dark jeans, a gray shirt, and a blazer over the top. More casual than most of the men around him, but it totally suited him. His jacket barely contained his muscular shoulders.

He had dark hair, but heavy on the salt-and-pepper at the temples. His face was rugged and tanned, and his jaw looked like it was chiseled from stone. It was covered by a short beard that was definitely going silver.

She knew immediately that he was a man who preferred being outside. Probably using his hands. Her gaze dropped. He had big hands. Capable-looking hands.

She flicked her gaze up, and their eyes met.

Instantly, Nola’s belly warmed.

Then the crowd shifted, and she lost sight of him.

Wow. Resisting the urge to fan herself, she turned back to the bar and ordered a second drink.

“Hey, sweetheart. Want some company?”

Nola glanced sideways at the man who’d sidled up beside her. He looked about forty, his suit rumpled, and he smelled like he’d bathed in his cologne.

“No, thanks.” She pinned on a polite smile. “I’m meeting some friends.”

“Then why do you look so lonely?”

Her mouth flattened. “I’m not.”

“I have to tell you, that skirt is—” his gaze ran down her body, and over her fitted knee-length, navy-blue skirt “—mighty fine.”

Ew. “Look, none of that works if you’re trying to get a woman’s attention.”

He blinked. “Really?”

“Really. Try to show some respect and act human.”

The shock on his face gave way to the flush of anger. “Bitch.”

She rolled her eyes. “And that really doesn’t work.” She grabbed her glass. Turning, she pushed into the crowd.

And almost collided with a hard chest.

“Oops, sorry.” In a feat of luck and reflexes, she lifted her glass up without spilling a drop. “I almost got my drink all over you.” She looked up.

Into the gray eyes of the silver fox.

A big hand rested on her elbow, steadying her. Nola’s pulse went crazy. His chest was even bigger up close, and she smelled a yummy, crisp cologne—something simple, with an undertone of limes and wood.

“You okay?” His voice was a deep rumble.

“Yes.” God, why was her voice so breathy?

The silver fox looked over her head, and frowned. “He bothering you?”

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