Page 3 of Forgot to Tell You Something

“So, like every other night, basically. Take good care of Stefani. Anything happens, I’m holding you personally responsible.” With a final wink, I leave the burgeoning lovebirds and stroll upstairs.

I hope they hit it off. Someone should get laid tonight, and I know it isn’t going to be me. I envy Stefani and Dan—they make the game of flirtation look easy. When I attempt flirting, I feel like a hack, a teenager who stole her mom’s dress and is trying to pass for a lady.

In other words? It isn’t pretty.

As I climb the stairs to the balcony, I realize that the floor’s stickiness extends to the second level, and I’m thankful for the dim lighting. I really don’t want to know what happened here the other night.

Using my hip, I heave the oak door with a grunt, losing my balance as the door swings open from the other side.

Large hands grab me before I tumble to the floor, and I find myself staring into the eyes of the most drop-dead gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.

“And here I thought I was helping. You okay?” He smiles, showing perfect white teeth nestled against a neatly trimmed beard.

“Nice catch. You must have played football in high school.” I offer him my unopened beer with a chuckle. “Payment for your troubles?”

“Your timing is impeccable. I was about to head back down and fight the crowd.”

I shrug and wrap my hand around the neck of the bottle. “If you prefer to wait in line, be my guest.”

Another smile, his fingers firmly attached to the beer. “I’ll take you up on your generous offer and buy you a replacement when we head downstairs. Fair enough?”

“Fair enough.” I shoot him a glance, my nose scrunching as I examine him. This must be his first time at the club, because I’ve never seen him before, and he is definitely not a face you forget. “Do they know you’re up here?”

He chuckles, sipping his beer. “I was planning on robbing the place, so I figured it best if I kept a low profile.”

“You’ve got a bit of a wait. They won’t have any money in the tills for another couple of hours. Until then, I suppose you can hang out in my balcony.”

“Your balcony, huh? I don’t see a sign. Do you have a deed handy?”

I nod, pointing at the worn velvet sofa. “Absolutely. Signed my name in blood and swore an oath on a goat.”

That did it. His laugh is full-blown now, gravelly and sexy as hell. “You’rethatwoman. I’ve heard about you.”

“All bad things, I’m sure...and they’re all true.” I swig down a mouthful of beer, offering up a saucy grin.

“What’s your name, Darlin?”

Wow, I really like his use of that pet name. Usually, I loathe cheeky nicknames, but from his lips, it’s the most enticing two syllables I’ve ever heard.

“Tallulah.”

He extends his hand in greeting. I expect to see a working man’s hands—banged up with dirt under the nails and ink across the digits. Fairly standard for this scene. But his fingers are long, lean, and without a single tattoo. Unexpected. “I’m Owen. Pleasure meeting the owner of this fine establishment.”

Usually, I’m spot on with a clever retort or comeback. What I lack in flirtatious ability, I make up for in wit. But this time, my mind blanks as I meet his gaze. I’m mesmerized by the feel of his hand engulfing mine and the warmth spreading through my body. “You too,” I stammer, finally finding my voice.

“That’s a beautiful name.”

Earth to Tallulah, snap out of it. What is wrong with me tonight?

I’m the homegirl all the guys kick back with, not the fluttery eyed doe who can’t add two and two.

Or at least I was until Owen wandered into my balcony.

“They named me after my grandmother.”

Owen nods, his gaze focused on the crowd below. “It’s an unusual moniker, but then again, so are you.”

My heart sinks at his statement, but I’m not surprised. His words are par for the course. Some women are beautiful, lush, and sensuous. I’m unusual. But this time, the descriptor stings like hell. On the plus side, at least now I can relax. The man isn’t interested.

---