Page 17 of Coulda

“Did you know?” Maisie asked, tugging on Amber’s elbow as she scrutinized Beau’s face as well.

“I didn’t have a clue.”

“Neither did I,” Beau swore, holding up a hand.

CHAPTER6

The quieter classmates drifted away from Murphy’s around ten o’clock, leaving the party crowd in high gear. Amber said goodbye to Beau and Maisie as they left. Harper and Colt disappeared mysteriously without telling anyone they were heading out.

I should go home, Amber thought before remembering the house would be empty with her folks on their cruise. She wasn’t quite ready for that.

Automatically, she searched for Rio and spotted him at his usual spot behind the bar.Damn, he looks good.Rio had been handsome when he was thirty-one, but he was all silver fox gorgeous now.

Rio’s hair was longer on top and flopped over his brow as he shook the drink shaker. His form-fitting T-shirt outlined the muscles in his chiseled torso, making her fingers ache to touch him. Amber clenched her thighs together as her body reacted to the mere sight of him.

As if he’d felt Amber watching him, Rio looked up. Without breaking eye contact, he poured the drink into the fancy martini glass and set it in front of the chattering woman. Amber saw the customer follow his line of vision to see her, and saw her bristle as he walked away from the bar.

Amber watched him stalk forward, focused completely on her. The crowd must have sensed something, for the last of the partiers moved out of his way to create an open pathway to her side. Time between them evaporated as his eyes held her gaze captive.

When he stopped in front of her, Amber watched his mouth move and read his whispered, “Little girl,” on his lips. His hand reached out to smooth a strand of her hair back from her face, and she recognized her name in a heart inked into his palm. A strangled sound burst from her lips as she crossed the last few inches that separated them to press herself against his hard chest.

“Rio,” she sighed as she brazenly lifted her lips to ask for a kiss she’d always dreamed about.

He stroked his fingers through her fiery hair to cradle her skull. “I’m not going to disappear this time, Amber. You’re all grown up, Little girl.”

“This doesn’t have to be serious, Rio. Just kiss me.”

“I didn’t come back to have a fling, Amber. We’ll take it slow until you’re ready for all that I will ask of you. Come. Sit and talk to me,” Rio commanded softly before leaning forward to press a kiss on her forehead.

As he stepped away, Rio slid his fingers down her arm, setting all the nerves in his path on fire. “Come,” he repeated, taking her hand and squeezing it gently.

Amber trailed him to the bar. Customers filled all the chairs as she approached, and Amber hesitated, not knowing where to go. Rio nodded at her, and she knew he’d take care of it as they paused by a familiar stool.

When Rio slid behind the bar, he pulled a cold draft and set it in front of the young man in the seat Rio had always reserved for Amber. “Joel, that pretty blonde over there just bought you a beer. You should go thank her.”

“Really? The one in the red dress?”

“That’s her. Her name is Tracy. Go introduce yourself,” Rio directed.

Quickly, Joel slid from the stool and rounded the bar. Amber laughed and took his place. She crossed her legs and leaned against the bar. “Is that going to go well?” she asked, nodding at the man now chatting with the infamous woman in red.

“They needed an introduction, and we needed a stool. Now they can see if there’s more than a physical attraction. The two have been checking each other out all evening,” Rio assured her.

“And we get to see if there’s more than a physical attraction, too?” Amber teased. She liked that the hubbub of the bar created a private space for them to talk without others listening.

“Oh, there’s that, definitely. But we don’t need an introduction. Let's see if I remember everything. Your favorite color is green. You hate the nickname Sparky. You’d rather be Amberella, or Ella for short. You love peanuts in the shell and hate cashews. You always wanted to play football instead of being a cheerleader, and you consider your biggest flaw to be your size-nine feet.”

Amber looked at him in shock. “You remember all that about me?”

“I do. I’d have to disagree with you about your feet. You’re killing me in those shoes.”

Amber followed his glance over her crossed thighs and down her snug jeans to the high-heeled shoes she’d bought just for the reunion. No nurse would ever wear those regularly. She extended one shoe out to consider the heel.

“They’re killers,” she agreed playfully. “I’ll take them off as soon as possible.”

“What can I get you?” Rio asked.

“How about a strawberry daiquiri with some rum this time?”

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