Page 64 of Tangled Kisses
It’s been four days since I’ve seen Griffin, and that’s four days too long for my sanity. My heart’s already too invested in a man I shouldn’t want. A man who is off-limits in every way is never a good choice, no matter what my stupid heart thinks.
So when my sister invites me out with Colton and a few of his firefighter buddies, I say yes.
They’re gorgeous, they’re attentive, and most importantly, they’re accessible.
Sadly, Griffin isn’t.
And I tried to look pretty tonight. Slipped back into the dress he once complimented, added a little more mascara, glossed my lips. But no matter how many times I catch one of the guys staring at me, all I can think about is Griffin.
“I’ll be back. Need a refill.” I excuse myself from the table, grabbing my empty glass.
One of the firefighters leans closer, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. “I’ll get it for you. You don’t need to pay for a thing tonight.”
I slide free of his grip with a polite smile. “Thanks, but I can buy my own drinks.”
I stroll to the bar, shooting Jimmy a smile. “Can I get another one, please?”
“Aren’t you going to say hello to me?”
I cut my gaze to the left, my breath catching in my throat.
He’s here.
Griffin sits on the barstool, a beer bottle in hand, his cowboy hat perched low over his face. He stares straight ahead, fingers clamped around the bottle in a death grip.
“I didn’t see you come in. Jimmy, can you add a beer for Griffin to my tab?”
“I sawyou.” His tone is low, edged. “Hard not to, with the way those men were looking at you. With the way you were smiling back.” He tilts his hat back with a finger, those blue eyes stormy as they rake over my figure. “You’re wearing that dress again.”
He looks pissed. At me? At them? Why?
The man disappears for four days with a client—one I’m sure he fucked every which way since Sunday—and now he’s cutting me an attitude because a guy smiled at me? Whatever.
I swipe my palms against the fabric, desperate to appear unaffected by his intense scrutiny. “I feel pretty in it.”
“Well, you’re not.” He pivots in my direction and raises his hand to trace a delicate line along my collarbone. “You’re stunning, belleza.”
Damn him and the way his words undo me.
But I can’t go there again. Not with him.
My heart and I aren’t on speaking terms as it is.
Time to slough off the compliments and downshift into small talk. Keep it cordial. Friendly.
Try desperately not to fall for the man.
Correction: fallharderfor the man.
“I’m sure you know the guys. They’re local firefighters.” I take a sip of my drink, nodding toward the table. “Want to join us?”
“No.”
Okay then. I force a smile, the kind you paste on when you’re determined not to care. “Well, have a good evening, I guess.”
I pivot, ready to walk away, but the air shifts before I make it a step. Thickens. Crackles. The kind of tension that raises goosebumps along my arms even before his hand finds me.
Griffin’s fingers curl around my wrist, his grip firm, as he pulls me into his space.
