Page 19 of Sirens
Using the wickedly pointed tip of her nail, she pried out the appointed number and slid them into the glass. “So Albuquerque, huh?” She wouldnothave pegged that. Austin. Phoenix, maybe. “How’d you end up out here?”
“Work,” McGarvey said, his answer as artfully casual as her query had been. “All we need now is some soda water.”
The condensation-kissed bottle hissed as Maggie opened it. “How much?”
“Just top it up.”
Maggie fluttered her lashes and dramatically swept her fingertips to her chest. “You mean, I get to…to…eyeballit?”
Speaking of eyeballs, McGarvey’s seemed to have fixed on the spot where Maggie’s nails fanned across the swell of her breasts.
“Don’t make me regret it.” But something darker and deeper had sanded away the teasing edge to his voice.
Maggie swallowed hard as she streamed in the soda, the bubbles making it necessary to pour even slower so she could stop when it kissed the rim of the glass.
“Beautiful,” McGarvey said. But he wasn’t looking at the drink. “Go ahead and give it a stir.”
Plucking a metal straw from the container, Maggie slipped it into the glass and swirled.
“Gently,” McGarvey said. “The bubbles are part of what makes it so refreshing.”
Having completed several painstaking revolutions, she slid the beverage toward him for final approval.
“Not bad,” he said. His gaze flickered up to meet hers. “Want to taste?”
Lord, do I.
Maggie nodded, her mouth already watering as the tangy, minty flavor exploded on her tongue, savoring the coolness that spread through her middle.
“Oh wow,” she said, opening her eyes to find him watching her intently.
“Good?” he asked, his voice low and husky.
“Really good.” She offered him the drink, praying the single sip would somehow cool her nerves.
Trent took it, his eyes staying fixed on hers as his lips wrapped around the straw where hers had just been. Maggie felt a delicious shiver race through her veins at the casual intimacy of the gesture.
“Not bad,” he said, setting down the glass.
“Not bad?” She snatched the drink back again and downed an additional gulp, as much for the alcohol’s mood-enhancing effects as to dispute his noncommittal flavor assessment. “This is fan-fucking-tastic. Probably the best mojito I’ve ever tasted.”
“You drink a lot of those on Long Island?” McGarvey asked. But before she could respond, McGarvey stepped closer. “Or was it Boston where you became such a connoisseur?”
Maggie’s heart began to thump like a rubber mallet against her sternum, her mind racing as McGarvey’s lips curved into a slow, wicked smile.
It wasn’t like she’d made a secret of the fact that she knew Gabe and his family, so Boston was a pretty logical leap. But Long Island? Maggie knew for afactthat the only person who’d even heard her mention anything remotely adjacent was Kurt. And even then, in a totally offhand way when McGarvey was on the other side of the bar.
Which could mean one of two things. Kurt had been running his incessantly smirky yapper…or McGarvey had been doing some research.
Neither option felt like a good thing, considering what there was for McGarvey to find.
“Neither,” Maggie said, arranging her lips into a smile that felt several sizes too tight. “I went on a booze cruise for my birthday last year.”
She took another sip of the mojito and offered it to him again, her fingers brushing his as she handed it over.
“From Boston?” His voice held a teasing lilt that made her second-guess herself.
“Why do you want to know?” Maggie met his gaze, refusing to be the first to break eye contact.
