My brain was trying to figure out this puzzled question. My father had always said that the world was a balancing act between good and bad, and that luck was the teeter it sat on. Sometimes that weight would shift in your favor, other times it wouldn't. But no matter what, no matter how much bad there was, luck would come back to you at some point.

“Tell me then, what makes you believe in luck?”

Shrugging my shoulder, I glanced up at the ceiling. “Because believing gives it a presence. Belief makes it real, it becomes tangible.” Dropping my eyes back onto his, I held his gaze. “Without luck people would think that they had total control, but you can't control everything. No matter how much you might want to.”

Liam gave me a toothy grin as he pushed back in the seat. “I guess it all comes down to what you believe then.”

“I guess so,” I said, stabbing the ice in my glass with my straw.

“Okay, my turn. Go on, ask me something.” Holding out his arms, he opened his chest. “Ask me anything.”

We spent hours in that bar, talking and laughing. He talked about growing up in Kentucky, and how his grandparents had a farm full of cows and chickens. But now he lived in Washington, a world away from there.

I learned he had an older brother, and that they ran their father's business, carrying on his legacy. He wouldn't tell me in what, and that peaked my interest, but he said that was a conversation for another time.

“LAST CALL!” the bartender yelled from behind the counter.

“It's two in the morning already?” Grabbing my phone, I clicked it on so I could see the time. “Shit, I need to go.”

Liam took the last sip of his drink and waved to the waitress for our check. Grabbing his wallet, he took out some money, and set it on the table. “Come on, I'll walk you home.” Standing up, he flipped his fingers in my direction. Taking his hand, he helped me out of the booth, asking, “You sure you can walk?”

Swaying on my heels, I giggled. “I'm not too sure.”

Resting an open palm on the small of my back, he steadied me on my feet. “How far away do you live from here?”

“It's only few blocks. I'm sure I'll be fine.”

“I'm closer, why don't you come back with me and I'll call you a cab.”

Gripping his forearm, I found my balance. “No, no, I'm fine. I can get home.”

“Alright, then how about you come home with me anyway?”

Pursing my lips, a small voice whispered in my ear, doing its best to remind me that playtime should be over.

Just go home. It's been fun, but distractions are just that. . . Fun.

Distractions don't fix problems, they don't mend broken paintings and erase threats. What I needed was a good night sleep so I could tackle tomorrow with a fresh set of eyes and a clear head.

Except, I didn't want this to end. I enjoyed being right where I was. I couldn't change what happened, but I could prolong it. I could forget about it for a little while longer.

Didn't I deserve that?

Didn't I earn a break from reality this one time?

Tilting my head, he flashed me his big blue eyes and wriggled his brows. A tingle radiated between my thighs, coalescing into a throb that beat against my sex. It might have been the alcohol that was holding my hand and helping along, but I didn't give a shit.

My head was still clear, I was still thinking for myself. And I wanted this man to give me one happy thing to look back on when I thought about this day.

Was it wrong of me to want him to have his way with me?

That raw need didn't feel like me, but that's all I could focus on.

“Are you trying to take advantage of me, Mr. Business Opportunity?”

Laying his hand over his chest, Liam gave me a stern look. “That is something I would never do.”

Maybe I want you to.