Page 4 of Full Mountie

As we wait for the streetlight to turn green, I brush my arm against hers. Light, casual touches are important on first dates. They say, if all goes well, I’ll be happy to hold your hand, but I’m not going to be pushy about it.

They’re also an excellent test of chemistry.

And every time I touch Beth—when I reach across her desk to borrow a pen that just happens to be in her hands, when I drop my arm if we’re walking next to each other, or nudge her shoulder—there’s a warm sizzle under my skin.

This one’s magic, the sizzle says.

Beth plays her cards close to her chest. I have no idea if she feels the sizzle too. If she doesn’t yet, that’s okay. It can take time to figure out that connection. Sometimes it needs coaxing. And if it doesn’t work out, that’s okay, too.

There are plenty of fish in the sea, although none of them are quite as pretty as Beth.

There’s something about her—like she gives zero fucks about shit that doesn’t matter, but when something is important to her, she’s all in with her entire heart. She loves her job, that much is clear, and right now that’s where all of her focus lies.

Over the last two months, I’ve learned: she doesn’t have a boyfriend; her last relationship was serious, but they didn’t live together; it ended because he was a dick about her job getting more complicated when her boss became the prime minister; and she knows she’s better off without that guy.

All of that is good stuff.

I’ve also learned a lot about her and Lachlan.

None of which is good stuff, not really. Not because they shouldn’t end up together—they probably should, although I’m not magnanimous enough to want that for them.

No, I want them for myself. Choosing would be impossible, but Lachlan’s made the choice for me. He’s not interested in me right now and he’s throwing up all the barriers between him and Beth.

Right now, taking Beth out for a drink and then dinner? I’m practically doing a public service.

The bar is everythingI’d hoped it would be and more. We’re seated in an intimate booth near the back, and our bartender is a hot young guy who flirts just enough to get a good tip, but reads my body language and gets that we’re on a date.

Beth orders a glass of Prosecco. “I had champagne at the party. I should probably stick to wine if I want to keep my faculties about me.”

I grin. “Now what fun is there in that?”

She laughs, a full-bodied throaty sound that sends a healthy surge of blood to my groin. “You’re dangerous.”

“I can be.”

She gives me a long, perusing look. “Good.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve been a bad influence on someone, though.”

“You think I’m a good girl?”

“Oh, I hope not.” I get another laugh there and she leans back against the booth. The bartender returns with our drinks, bubbly wine for her and rye on the rocks for me. I watch as she murmurs her thanks, her lips curving in a sexy smile.

I lift my drink once we’re alone again. “To a little break from work and reality.”

She tips her glass against mine. “Yes, please. It’s been far too long.”

“All work and no play?”

“Exactly.” She presses her lips together, and I know what she’s going to say next. “It’s not that I don’t love my job—”

I reach across the table to touch her hand. “Beth, I don’t think anyone in the country loves their job more than you do. But it’s okay to say it’s been a long year.”

She groans and nods at the same time. “Such a long year.”

I take a sip of my drink and watch her over the rim of the glass. She’s very good at schooling her features. I don’t want her to have to do that around me. So I watch, and wait, and eventually she finds my gaze. “What?”

“Tell me about it.”

---