Page 20 of Same Time Next Year

The longer I stare down into the garbage can, the wider my smile grows.

And it has nothing to do with bikinis.

Chapter Six

BRITTA

Iprobably shouldn’t drink tonight.

That’s what I’m thinking as my temporary husband escorts me through the lobby of the venue with his huge hand on the small of my back, his heat making me feel protected. Or maybe it’s the fact that his upper lip curls when someone gets too close to me. The way he guards me like the crown jewels shouldn’t be such a turn-on, but Lord, it is. Everything about him is a turn-on, frankly, from his fall breeze scent to his complete honesty earlier.

No. I’ll want more.

My dumb heart ticks fast at the memory of him rasping those words.

If I drink alcohol tonight, mistakeswillbe made. That truth might as well be written on a stone tablet and brought forth by Moses from the mountaintop. I will not get through the night without begging for a horizontal workout from this thunder god of hockey who loves his grandma. And then I will hurt his feelings afterward when I tell him I’m still not interested in anything resembling a relationship.

Although, if I’m being completely honest with myself ... that resolve is beginning to wane.

Just the tiniest pinch.

When we reach our seats and he rests his arm along the back of mine, I don’t feel alone. And that’s not merely because I’m with another person. I’ve felt extremely lonely while on dates in the past. Sometimes I even feel lonely in the packed bar where I’m conversing with several people at once. It’s a very singular, unfamiliar thing to sit beside another person and know they’ve got my back. I’ll never again underestimate what it’s like to be understood by someone. That’s what it’s like in the nook of Sumner’s arm. Warm understanding.

With a razor-sharp undercurrent of lust.

It’s dark in the small arena. The opening act, a female country duo with a harmonic style, is finishing their set. The seats around us are filling, but no one is sitting in front of us, because we’re in the first row of the mezzanine overlooking the general admission floor, the stage beyond. The air is cool and smells a little bit like marijuana—and there’s an exhilarated buzz dancing down the sensitive skin of my arms. It’s that preconcert excitement. More than that, though, it’s the need to cut loose a little bit.

Or maybe even a lot.

Sumner leans over to speak against my ear in that deep rumble. “Do you want something to drink?”

His breath on my neck lights a sparkler in my belly.No, I don’t think drinking is a good idea.That’s what I should say. What comes out instead is, “A vodka tonic, maybe?”

He nods once and stands but seems reluctant to leave me.

I’ll be fine,I mouth at him.

With a final suspicious look at the totally innocent bystanders around me, Sumner moves upstream through the crowd, a giant among regular-size people. I can’t help but watch him the entire way, admiring his shifting shoulder muscles until he’s out of sight. He returns ten minuteslater and hands me a clear plastic cup, fizzing with tonic and with a lime wedge on top. There’s a bottle of water in his other hand.

“You’re not having a beer or anything?”

“I’m driving,” he says, appearing almost affronted that I would even suggest such a thing. “I’m driving mywife.”

Another round of dangerous tingles slithers downward, making my thighs feel loose and sexy. It’s growing impossible to ignore how attractive I find this man, mostly because ... it’s more than physical. I admire him. I like him. And I’ve been missing him for two months.

Missing hima lot.

There’s even a chance I could trust him someday—and that?

That would be an even bigger leap than love for me. Because I don’t knowhowto trust.

Putting my blind faith in someone isn’t a quality that exists inside me, and I don’t know how to cultivate it. Briefly, I pull my phone out of my purse to check for messages. “Wow. I can’t believe the bar hasn’t called with an emergency yet. The night is young, I guess.”

“You’ve been working a lot lately,” he remarks.

“I have. Trying to make small improvements here and there.”

He turns his head, interested. “Yeah? Like what?”

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