Her face lit up, and I relaxed, settling back to listen as she broke into a detailed explanation of the production.
I smiled, listened, and enjoyed just being with her.
She was wrong about me not trusting people. I did trust—her and Drew. I didn’t need anyone else. Certainly not a certain woman with strawberry blonde curls and a sharp tongue.
Just as Amelia finished a complete summary of the final scene in the play, my phone rang. Not wanting to be rude, I excused myself and headed outside to answer the call. Fortunately, the work issue was easily and quickly resolved. Instead of heading straight back to my sister, however, I took a short detour.
“Well, hello there.”
As I exited the restroom a few minutes later, a warm purr of a voice greeted me, and I looked over to where the words had come from. The woman walking toward me was petite, the top of her head reaching not quite to my shoulder. As she approached, I caught the scent she wore, something rich, feminine, and sexy as hell. Her dark hair spilled down her back in thick waves and her eyes were an inviting shade of blue. I recognized her from the club.
“Hi.” I gave her a polite smile and waited to see what she would do next.
She wet her lower lip and tilted her head back. “Any chance you’re alone? Or…if you’re not, maybe you’re available later?”
She was sweetly curved, poured into a vibrant dress the color of blueberries, all round and lush. I was tempted—damned tempted, especially since I’d spent too many hours last night thinking about Jessica and wishing I’d tried harder to talk her into inviting me in.
But then, like water splashing on tissue paper, the idea fell apart. I’d agreed to exclusivity, sex or no, and I honored my promises. “I’m afraid I’m not available at all. Not for the time being, anyway.”
She reached up and traced a finger along the line of my collar. “Oh, well.” With one last smile, she turned and walked away, her hips swinging while the dress outlined an ass that would have filled my hands to perfection.
“Shit.” I blew out a breath and adjusted myself. I’d have to work harder to get Jessica into bed because I wasn’t sure I’d survive fifteen months of this.
Heading back to the table, I cleared my expression and considered asking my sister if she wanted to catch a movie. It’d been a while since we’d done more than lunch and a movie would be a distraction that wouldn’t remind me of my bleak, sexless future.
As I rounded the corner, a figure standing next to my table made me pause. Narrowing my eyes, I took in the long, lean figure of a guy with a full tattoo sleeve smiling down at my sister. She tilted her head to look up at him and the look wasn’t unfriendly. Fine. I’d be unfriendly enough for both of us.
Amelia glanced in my direction, an absent gesture before she went back to smiling at the stranger, but as I drew closer, she stilled, then turned back to me with a frown that said she knew what I was about to do, and she didn’t approve.
Too fucking bad.
The man in front of her finally noticed that he didn’t have her full attention, and he tossed a look in my direction, a faint smile before he spoke to my sister again. “Your brother?”
“Yes.” She gave me a pointed look, which I ignored and focused back on the guy.
“Who’s your friend?”
“We just met, Derrick.” She gave me a narrow smile and a meaningful look.
Be nice.
I arched an eyebrow, giving her a message of my own.
Hell, no.
“Got a name?” I asked him mildly.
“Ah…Kevin.” He hazarded a smile that wasn’t quite as wide as the one he’d been wearing just a minute ago.
The man had at least some semblance of intelligence. He’d realized that something had shifted in the power dynamic here.
“Okay, Kevin. You got a job?” I smiled back like a shark. “An ex-wife? Kids? Child support? Where do you live? Got a girlfriend tucked away somewhere?”
He took a step back, his smile disappearing. “Dude, what the fuck?”
“If you’re hitting on my sister, I want to know who you are,” I said, shrugging. “About that job? And don’t lie. I have more resources than you can imagine and only one sister to protect.”
He shot Amelia a regretful look. “You know what, I’m running late.”