Page 7 of Blood Ties

Nick: Already?

A flicker of something dark and lusty made me ache deep between my legs. With that throbbing awareness, I chewed on my lip, debating whether to reply or let that go unanswered.

Me: Maybe ;)

My heart was pounding as I raced down the sidewalk, my feet hitting the cold ground hard. I was late as it was and, of course, everyone and their brother decided to be out and about. Dodging and weaving, I hurried toward the little cafe to meet with my potential client.

A client I’d been exchanging increasingly unprofessional text messages with since we met two weeks ago. They weren’t blatantly sexual but the innuendos—oh, God, the innuendos. That last one was not the worst of them, either.

Looking back, I couldn’t say how it started or what had driven either of us. After all, I didn’t know him, nor did he know me.

I refused to acknowledge that I was more upset that I looked like roadkill than that I was going to be late. Because Nick was jaw-dropping hot.

By the time I practically skidded to a halt outside the little cafe, I had loose tendrils that had worked free from my messy bun, and I was probably sweaty and nasty. Inwardly, I groaned.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” I apologized as I dropped into the only free seat at his table. He’d chosen one of the outdoor seats near the propane heaters and shaded by big red umbrellas. I could see why every table inside was packed.

So much for avoiding the busy time.

He pushed the dark frames of his glasses up and I practically fell into his mesmerizing eyes. Crystal blue, with a navy border and striations, they were like a vortex sucking me under. “You’re fine,” he assured with a kind, but slightly wolfish grin.

Oh God, were those dimples that just flashed with that panty-melting smile?

It took everything I had in me to pull myself together into something that somewhat resembled a professional woman. I had to fight the urge to crawl into his lap and do very bad things—things our messages had flirted with but left unsaid.

Jesus, we’re in public! Pull yourself together, girl!

It was one thing to exchange some suggestive text messages, but being in his physical presence was lethal. My face and my insides warmed at the memories. Still, I couldn’t let that drive me to do something foolish.

The waitress arrived at my side, causing me to jump when she asked if we were ready to order. I frowned because I hadn’t even ordered a drink. But when I looked up, she only had eyes for my table companion.

Which really irked me for some reason—like I had a claim to him.

“Nivea, what did you want to drink?” Nick asked. I wanted to kiss him for being observant and ignoring the waitress’s blatant dismissal of me.

“A water is fine, and I’d like the daily special, please,” I replied.

She didn’t even acknowledge me, despite the fact that I’d seen her take down my order. Her brilliant smile was for Nick.

“I’ll take the same,” he said, handing her his menu, then summarily dismissing her as he leaned forward on the table. His attention was one hundred percent focused on me. “I’m glad you could make it.”

My cheeks heated at his unwavering focus. Those messages swirled in my brain. Then I pulled out my small sketchbook and a mechanical pencil. “So what were you thinking?”

“That you are utterly stunning,” he murmured.

Struck speechless, I couldn’t do anything but blink at him as my cheeks went from heated to up in flames. My mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.

He chuckled before bashfully ducking his head. “I’m sorry, that was rude.”

“No, I, uh, wow, I’m flattered. Thank you,” I stammered. Yeah, in person, he was much more potent.

“Well, it’s the truth, but you were referring to what I had in mind for the piece I’d like to commission.” He proceeded to explain his vision and I sketched as he spoke. Every so often, he would lean in and point at something, causing our hands to brush together. By the time he was done, I was flustered and horny, but I had a simple drawing that I slid over for him to look at.

“Something like this?” I asked, heart fluttering. He leaned over to look, and I caught a whiff of his crisp, but mysterious cologne and I dropped my pencil. It rolled off the table and to the ground.

“Crap,” I whispered as I quickly bent to pick it up.

I didn’t get to sit back up because there was an odd sound and bits of brick rained down on me. Simultaneously, Nick dragged me to the concrete. People were screaming and chairs fell over as chaos ensued.

---