Page 14 of Against All Odds

"What did you expect?”

“Someone more like…your ex,” I said carefully. “Polished. More...Aspen.”

He chuckled. “I can see why you’d think that. But no. I’m a cross between small town New York and San Diego.”

“Ah, so a combination of nervous energy mixed in with a laid-back surfer vibe.”

“I’m too old to be nervous, darlin’.”

That voice hit me right between my legs, and the way he saiddarlin’should be illegal.

I cleared my throat. “How old are you?”

“Forty-two. You?”

I didn’t throw the cliché of a man not asking a woman her age because we were in the getting-to-know-each-other phase, and this was a critical part of that mating dance. Also, I had no problem owning my years. “Forty.”

He didn’t say anything as dumb as, “You look really great for forty”or “I could never tell you were that old.”

His gaze softened as he set a wine glass gently in its place. “Tell me something about yourself.”

The question startled me. It wasn’t the kind of thing people usually asked me—most didn’t care enough to bother. I licked my lips, stalling. “I just got divorced.”

“I know that already.” His eyes twinkled with amusement.

I hesitated, weighing what to say, and then decided to test him to see how he’d react. “I grew up in a trailer park. Drunk father, who eventually died of an overdose when he expanded his addiction. Strung-out mother.”

His expression didn’t change, not even a flicker of pity. “Where did you grow up?”

“Woody Creek…well, until my father overdosed. After that, I was in foster care until I aged out.” I surprised myself with how easily the words came out. “Not exactly the Aspen postcard lifestyle.”

I wasn’t sure why I was telling him any of this. Usually, I kept these parts of my life locked up tight—an invisible barrier I didn’t let anyone cross, or rather, I was afraid of being judged. But if Heath did that, he’d be outof the running for…what? God! I didn’t want to be interested in this man. He was out of my league. Way out!!

He hesitated, his blue eyes studying me as if deciding whether to say what was on his mind.

Oh, yeah, give it to me, big guy. I’ve heard it all.

Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but clear. I prepared myself for the put-down.

“Sable, will you let me take you out on a date?”

For a moment, I just stared at him.

What the freaking fuck?

My eyes widened, and I raised both my eyebrows. “Huh?” I managed to spit out.

He grinned, probably enjoying the fact that I was speechless.

And, I was completely and absolutely out of words.

Men like Heath Falkner did not ask women like me out.

Jack and Heath weren’t even in the same stratosphere. Jack was a wannabe. A man trying hard to prove to the world he was more than he was. Heath didn’t even bother—he knew who he was, and he was better than all the rest.

Jack would make it a point to let everyone know that his jeans or belt or wallet was designer—Heath didn’t seem to give a shit that his jeanswereGucci.

Yeah, I noticed, I had eyes, and I was looking at his well-formed ass.

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