Page 3 of Secret Baby for the Bad Boy

Scanning the open room, I take in the bar that’s alive with the clatter of glasses, animated conversations, and the rhythmic thumping of a nearby volleyball game. A server weaves through the crowd, her tray held high like a sail catching the breeze.

“Another round!” someone shouts, and a cheer erupts from a table decked out with nearly empty colorful cocktail glasses.

I lean against the weathered wood of the bar, feeling lucky because the place is almost standing room only. My gaze meets one set of incredible blue eyes and freezes right there.

It's her, the woman from the plane, perched elegantly on the edge of a barstool, one long bare leg crossed over the other as her cute polka-dot sundress rides up her legs. Her laughter mingles with the rest, but all her attention is on her friend, until her gaze meets mine.

“Can I get you something?” The bartender nods at me, pulling me back into the moment.

“Whiskey, neat,” I say, turning back to her as he moves off to pour my drink. Her gaze meets mine, and that smile widens just a fraction, beckoning and cautious all at once. I knew there was something between us on the plane, but I can also sense her fighting against it. There’s something elegant and almost prickly about her. Like an adorable but damaged cactus.

I take my drink and thread through the crowd, making my way to her, because I’m not about to let her slip through my fingers without at least trying. She sips her drink through a straw, her gaze meeting mine as I close the distance between us.

“Mind if I join you?” I ask, gesturing to the seat beside her.

She shrugs lightly, the corners of her mouth twitching. “It's a free bar.”

Her friend glances at her, then at me, then speaks. “Lara, I’m going to go get another drink. Want one?”

Now I know her name, and I can’t help but feel that her friend is in my corner.

Lara nods as I take the seat next to her, assuming her words were an invitation – or at least permission.

I settle in, elbows propped on the table. I’m close enough to catch her scent—vanilla and sea breeze.

“Are you enjoying the view?” I nod toward the sun sinking low on the horizon.

“It's beautiful,” she says, without looking away from me. “Like a painting, but no one else seems to notice. I guess it’s just common for them.”

“First time?” I ask.

A slight smile crosses her beautifully-curved lips. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to a fellow traveler.” I raise my glass slightly, a silent toast to shared secrets.

“Ah.” She stirs her straw through her nearly-empty drink. “What brings you to the land of sun and surf, then?”

“Escape,” I say. It’s a half-truth that hides more than it reveals.

“Escape from…?” Her eyebrow arches a cautious and somehow inviting gesture.

“Life.” I can’t help but smirk with the word. “You?”

“Same. Escape from life.” There’s a note to her voice that I want to examine, but the guarded look in her eyes tells me that’s not going to happen. She’s intriguing, the way she clutches her glass, the slight tilt of her head, the way she uncrosses and recrosses those incredible legs.

“Found any adventures yet?” I ask, feeling playful. I like talking to her.

“Maybe.” That guarded smile is back on her lips, and I want to learn all her secrets.

“I think your friend got hung up,” I say, nodding at the woman who’s now talking with two men near the bar. She looks cornered but happy to be there, and I doubt she even made it over to order drinks. “I can get you a drink if you like.”

She’s watching her friend, humor shining in her eyes as if she’s not one bit surprised. “She marches to the beat of her own drum,” she says. “I’d love another drink.”

“What would you like?” I ask, finishing my whiskey.

She lifts a shoulder. “Surprise me.”

That sounds good to me. I make my way to the bar, thinking about her every step of the way. I know this is my vacation and I shouldn’t be looking for trouble, but she’s the kind of trouble I need. Something to get my mind off the events of this last week.

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