Page 8 of Bad Boys After Dark - Brett
“I wouldn’t call it a ‘good thing,’ but whatever.” He didn’t want to think about seeing Sophie dressed in tight skirts and low-cut blouses. He’d been drawn to her incredible figure since the first time he’d set his eyes on her, but it was her intelligence and quick wit that had kept his interest. Sophie had it all—brains, beauty, humor, and those insightful, sexy blue eyes that stuck with him long after she turned him down. Or I walked away. Goddamn fool.
Dylan went to tend to a customer and Brett pulled out his phone, debating sending Sophie a text. They’d long ago exchanged numbers, but he’d always held back from using hers. It was one thing to tempt her when the opportunity arose in person, but he knew himself well enough to realize that once he opened the door to twenty-four-hour access, he’d have a hard time holding back until he got what he wanted.
Fuck it. He was done pissing and moaning about not taking his chance when he’d had it. He wasn’t a sit-around-and-wait type of guy. He was ready to play with fire. As he typed a text to Sophie—Miss me yet?—he told himself it was to get her out of his system once and for all.
He took another swig of his beer, and his phone vibrated. His heart leapt at the sight of Sophie’s name on the screen. He couldn’t open and read the message fast enough. I’m surrounded by a bunch of stuffy people at a wine tasting. Even your come-ons would be better than this.
As he conjured a host of dirty responses, a vision of Sophie as they’d said good night floated into his mind. He clenched his teeth against the squirrely feeling in his gut and typed, I’ve got a bottle of red from France with your name on it.
Her response was immediate. Did you have to erase someone else’s name to write mine in?
He hated the sting that accompanied her jibe. Before he could type a response, “Thrive!” rang through the bar. The cheer pulled Brett’s attention from his thoughts. He spotted his buddy Dex Remington, founder of Thrive Entertainment, one of the country’s leading PC game design firms, moving through the crowd. Dex waved to the people in the back of the bar who had called out the cheer. It was how his employees had greeted him since they began hanging out there.
Dex sidled up beside Brett at the bar.
“How’s it going?” Brett asked as Dylan came to take Dex’s order.
“Can’t complain.” Dex slapped Brett on the shoulder, then reached across the bar and tapped fists with Dylan. “Can I get a round of our usual?”
Brett’s phone vibrated again, and he glanced at the text from Sophie. 99 bottles of wine on the wall…He could think of ninety-nine ways he’d like to help alleviate her boredom.
“Coming right up,” Dylan said. “Where’s Ellie tonight?”
“She and Siena went shopping. Did I tell you Ellie’s three months pregnant?” Ellie was Dex’s wife, and Siena was his twin sister.
“Man, that’s awesome,” Brett said. “Congratulations.”
“Congrats, man,” Dylan said.
“Thanks. We’re stoked,” Dex said as Dylan filled his order. “We just had dinner with Kurt. He’s heading over to Pages bookstore, so I stopped by to have a drink with Mitch and Regina.” Mitch and Regina worked for Dex.
“Kurt’s at Pages tonight?” Brett asked as he typed a text to Sophie. Where are you?
“Yeah. Ellie’s friend works there, and when she found out he was in town, she asked him to do an impromptu reading. Want to join us for a drink?”
Brett’s phone vibrated, and a quick glance told him where to find Sophie. “I’ve got to run, but thanks. Good seeing you. And congrats.” He patted Dex on the back and headed for the door.
IF SOPHIE HAD to listen to one more stuffed shirt talk about bouquets and aeration she was going to lose her mind. She’d hoped the plethora of well-dressed, handsome men and wine would offer a much-needed distraction from the brazen man who had kept her up all night—or rather, had left her reeling and wondering why he hadn’t tried to keep her up all night. But the minute these guys opened their mouths, all that came out was pretentiousness. Sophie knew how to dress the part of high-fashion city girl, and she enjoyed living in the Big Apple, but she was still a small-town girl at heart. She didn’t give two hoots about summering in Italy, and she didn’t have a love affair with wine. If it tasted good, she’d drink it. And if not, she’d choose something else.
