Page 7 of Entangled

He pauses and leans in even closer as if he’s about to share some great secret, bringing his face in close enough that I can see the brilliant gold flecks lighting up his green eyes like fireworks against an emerald sky. His close proximity drenches me in his scent and I’m hit by the smell of sea and something like spring. He smells like clean sheets blowing dry at the beach. The combination is refreshing, rolling over me like a cleansing breeze.

“You have city girl eyes,” he finishes with a low voice and a slight lift of his lips. “Confidently suspicious of the world around you. I’m betting one of the big ones, West Coast by the look of you and the lack of southern twang in your voice.”

His answer makes me pause and I rake my eyes over his face with new appreciation. Impressed by his insight despite the unease skirting through me at being read so easily.

“Well aren’t you just full of surprises,” I finally tell him, noting the clever glint in his eyes that belies his playful demeanor.

His hands slide wider on the bar as he dips his head and brings his mouth to the shell of my ear. “I always aim to both surprise and please, Blondie,” he whispers, voice melodic with the sensual promise, shocking the hell out of me and causing my breath to stutter.

I pull back and meet his playful eyes, feeling life spark deep inside of me, in a place that I thought was long dead and buried.

“Is that a promise?” I throw him a bratty smirk, noting the flash of surprise on his face.

“Always.”

“Then by all means… pour me another.”

Guilt threatens to rise and I push it back down with a forceful fuck you. I wasn’t the one at fault here. The fact that I was here, that I was alone…

Shockingly, that wasn’t on me.

A brilliant smile flashes across his face as he rises back up and grabs the bottle to pour us another shot. That smile really is something else. All disarming innocence and panty-dropping charm rolled into one potent package.

Pure trouble, that’s what he is.

The kind that leaves a girl dazed and begging for more weeks later.

But maybe… maybe after spending a year trying to piece myself back together, maybe I had earned the right to enjoy a little trouble. And after last summer, well, I don’t think there’s anything left of my heart to risk at this point anyway.

I bring the shot to my lips and sip it, mild curiosity stirring at his lack of attention to the rest of the bar. “Do you typically ignore all your other patrons this way?”

“Not typically, no.” He flashes those dimples. “But Tiff and Kim got here while we’ve been talking so…” He trails off, nodding toward two women working their way through tables scattered around the bar as he does and I shoot my eyes their way. One is a short, middle-aged woman with red hair, while the other is an attractive brunette girl who looks a bit younger than me.

“Plus…” He shrugs in a self-deprecating sort of way. “I run the place for my aunt so I can enjoy a few liberties here and there.”

“Like breaking out the good stuff to flirt with a pretty girl?”

“When an opportunity I can’t pass up presents itself… hell yeah.”

I snort a laugh and feel my tongue loosen up as the vodka hits me. “Good to know nepotism is alive and well even in small-town America.”

“Good to know not all city girls are so desperate for compliments they can’t call themselves pretty,” he fires back at me.

“What can I say?” I lean back in my chair and strike a confident pose. “I’m nothing if not a realist.”

A light laugh leaves him as his eyes roll up and down my body in appreciation.

“Yeah.” His brows lift. “You’re definitely not from around here.”

“LA.” The words pop unbidden from my mouth and my brows drop just a bit as I try to figure out why.

“What?”

“I’m from LA.”

“Ah, so I was right.” His eyes shine with triumph, a grin splitting his face in delight.

“Pretty much spot on,” I confess with a half shrug.

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