Page 52 of The Southern Thirst Trap

The drive doesn't take long, and I hand my car off to the valet as I scan the sky full of dark clouds threatening rain, and maybe even a thunderstorm. Javi meets me at the door to the restaurant and sends me a questioning look. Like me, he’s removed his tie, but coming from work, we’re still in our jackets and slacks. Not a bad look for this restaurant, which is a pretentious place known for strong drinks and an Asian fusion menu, according to the web search I did while on the phone with Harlowe.

“Feeling like overpriced drinks and small portions? This isn’t usually your type of place. I happen to loathe it.” Javi looks from me to the name of the restaurant printed on a grain sack outside the entrance.

“You might not love the place, but you’ll definitely like the company,” I promise.

“Which of your Instagram groupies are we meeting tonight?” he asks, sounding intrigued.

“Not a groupie, and you’ve met them, kind of.”

Javi looks at me curiously, but doesn't hazard a guess.

I scan the restaurant when we enter, ignoring the line of people waiting for tables. I spot Harlowe across the restaurant like my eyes are drawn to her and motion with my chin at Javi to follow.

“Oh,” he says in understanding when he catches the direction of my gaze. “Yeah, this won’t be bad at all.”

I slide into the empty seat next to Harlowe, resting my arm on the back of her chair and enjoying the surprised smile she gives me in response to our arrival. She looks incredible. She’s wearing a strappy tank top that shows off her shoulders and most of her upper back, a flirty ruffle down the center that draws my eyes to her cleavage, sending visceral memories of what her nipples look and taste like sling-shotting around my brain.

She has a plumeria flower tucked behind her ear closest to me, the scent intoxicating and sending me straight back to when I was in paradise with her. I think of when plumerias were decorating her body last and bite back a groan of longing that’s so fierce, I have to turn my head and clear my throat before I can return my attention to Harlowe.

“Hello, bestseller and future cooking show host. Congratulations,” I say, trailing my fingers along the exposed skin of her back. She shivers in response and leans into my touch. She’s definitely a few drinks in.

“Thanks,” she says, her cheeks rosy. “This is Paloma,” she says, gesturing to her friend across the table. “I see you brought the bad driver with you. Paloma, this is Javier. And you know of Zander, but you get to officially meet him now.” Harlowe finishes the introductions.

“My driving record would indicate otherwise, and again, I’m so sorry for the accident. I hope everything is back in order now,” Javi says smoothly, settling into the open chair next to Paloma, who eyes him warily.

“It’s true, he’s usually a better driver than that, but I-85 gets the best of us all at some point. I hope you liked the rental.”

I’ve made sure all of her repairs were done to my exacting standards and she didn’t have to pay for any of it. I tear my attention from Harlowe and nod at her friend and the spread on the table.

“Did you order everything on the menu? I’m serious about it being my treat. You deserve it.” I again look at Harlowe when I finish.

“We ordered plenty, don’t you worry, Daddy Warbucks,” Paloma says with humor.

Javi laughs and turns to her. “That’s a new one. What else do you call him?”

Paloma grins, but it looks mean. “Sperm donor. Asshole. Conceited jerk. Hit it and quit it. Johnny Bravo.”

“I understand all but the last one,” Javi says, clearly not interested in having my back in this situation. “Care to elaborate?”

“He’s a big, dumb, caricature of a narcissistic womanizer who is obsessed with himself and can’t make a relationship work out.” She crosses her arms and stares at me as she explains.

“Harsh, much?” It’s to be expected, though. “Feel better after getting that off your chest?” I ask, holding back the anger that would like to fire off my own insults. “And you’re the overprotective friend who has Harlowe’s best interests in mind.” I hold out a hand when I see her bristle and prepare to retort. “I more than deserve it.”

At my acceptance, her prepared vitriol dies before she even gets started, and she looks confused. Javi turns to her then, and smiles his disarming, blinding white grin that promises fun.

“I have plenty of stories I could tell you that would more than reinforce your ideas of him.” As he captures Paloma’s attention like the wingman I knew he’d be, I turn my own to Harlowe.

“Congratulations, Lowe,” I say again. My voice is so quiet it’s nearly drowned out by the noise in the restaurant, but she leans closer to me to hear better. “I’m so proud of you. I’m glad you’re celebrating this victory.”

She smiles and looks up at me with her sweet brown eyes all liquid soft. “Thank you.”

I lazily drag my fingertips along her spine and watch the reaction it causes. Goosebumps rise on her skin, and her nipples grow hard against the black silk of her top, making me more than aware that she’s not wearing a bra. I can look right down the front of her shirt from my vantage point and it does nothing to stem the desire for her that is coursing through me. I fight back a groan and look away from her incredible tits.

“You look beautiful.” I bring my hand up to cup her cheek and run my fingertips along the flower at her ear. “This brings back some very good memories.”

She melts into my hand, sighing as I trace my thumb along her skin, her eyes closing. “It made me think of you, too.”

“Where’s Hendricks tonight?” I don’t know if it’s the right question to ask, but I want to know. “I miss him. He’s a really cute kid.”

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