Page 10 of Fire

He held her hand longer than necessary, his stare penetrating. And even when he let it go, he did so reluctantly—slowly pulling his hand from hers, their palms sliding against each other, fingers grazing until only the tips remained touching for what felt like a long few seconds before all contact was lost.

Rattled, Gwen had to take a deep, calming breath before she spoke. “My friend, Allison Foster.”

“Ms. Foster.” Blake tipped his head Allie’s direction, but his gaze stayed locked with hers.

“Blake Stone. Why does that name sound so familiar?” Allie snapped her fingers. “Are you an actor?”

He reluctantly moved his attention to Allie, then after a slow blink, answered with a short, “No,” before his gaze landed back on Gwen.

She executed a slow blink of her own when she realized he wasn’t the least impressed with Allie’s charms, which were on full display in a clingy red dress with a plunging neckline. She’d styled her hair with one side held back in a barrette the other hanging over an eye. She looked like a fifties pin-up model, bodacious curves and all.

The waitress appeared at their table. “Care for anything, Mr. Stone?”

Gwen cocked a brow. So, he was known by name. Explained why he was there two weeks in a row. Now she was doubly glad she took a chance by coming.

Blake eyed Gwen’s almost full drink. “Do you not like your…” he took a second, his eyes calculating, “margarita?”

Impressed he’d guessed correctly without the telltale salt along the rim, she shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I’m not a big drinker ordinarily, but especially not when I have to work the next morning.”

His lips quirked. “I’m not either. Something we have in common.”

If Gwen had to guess, eyeing the whole package that sat next to her, that would be the only thing they had in common.

As if sensing her thoughts, his lips tipped up farther. “I have a feeling there will be more.” Turning in his seat, he said to the waitress, “A couple of waters for Ms. Butler and myself.” He turned Allie’s direction. “Ms. Foster, care for another,” he did the eye scan thing again, “Long Island Iced Tea?”

Gwen was beyond impressed. She leaned toward him. “Neat party trick.”

He turned his head and with her moved in so close, their lips nearly brushed as he replied, “I was a bartender for a handful of years.”

Holy crap, the man was lethal. Heat hit her body full force, and Gwen sat up straight, putting distance back between them. He slouched in his seat and threw an arm over the back of her chair, the smirk forming on his lips telling her he knew he’d gotten to her.

He wouldn’t be wrong.

Peeling her eyes from Blake, she saw the waitress had left. Which meant, while she’d been lost in the world of Blake Stone, Allie must’ve answered Blake’s question. And most likely in the positive—being sure to consume both their share of free booze.

“So, tell me, Gwen, what do you do that you have to work on a Saturday?” Her name was like a caress, rolling off his tongue.

She fidgeted in her seat. “I work at Coleman’s as a personal shopper.”

His eyebrow raised. “You must have the patience of a saint.”

Gwen laughed. “Or I’m a masochist.”

His lips tipped up, his eyes twinkling. “Something to explore.”

Her cheeks grew warm. She’d never blushed so much and would be embarrassed if she weren’t worried it would make her cheeks flush even brighter.

“Do you enjoy your job?” he asked into her uncomfortable silence.

She took a large sip of her margarita—deciding she needed liquid courage more than a pleasant morning—and glanced across to Allie who was unabashedly staring at the two of them. Her best friend gave her an encouraging smile. Which strangely made Gwen feel relaxed enough to sound normal while answering Blake’s question. “I do. I love clothes and accessories, so I’m lucky to have a job where I can feed my passions.”

“And do you have any otherpassions?” He quirked a brow, and she gave up on the hope she’d stop blushing—it was a losing battle.

“Well, I like to read and enjoy music.” She quirked a brow in return. “But I have a feeling that’s not what you were implying.”

He tipped his head back and laughed, surprising a smile from her with its vibrant, carefree sound that was so at odds with his deeply rich and powerful speech.

“You have a nice laugh.” She rolled her eyes, giving herself a mental head slap for blurting that.

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