Page 3 of The Single Dad Project

“You’re welcome,” she said, voice hoarse from the liquor and the sensual punch of him. “Thank you for coming over and softening the blow. You let me save face and the drink.” Smiling, she held up the empty tumbler, dipping her chin toward him. “Which was pretty awful, by the way.” She gave a shudder. It really did taste bad. “I think I’ll stick to beer and the occasional Sex on the Beach.”

Something flared in his eyes—something she didn’t feel comfortable naming. No, no. Not true. And since she’d decided to be all big and bold tonight, she at least owed it to herself to be honest. Something she wasafraidto name in case she was wrong.

In case she was disappointed.

“Occasional, huh?” He arched a dark, thick eyebrow, swirling the small amount of amber whiskey left in his glass. His green-and-gold gaze didn’t move from her face and for the briefest of moments, she felt like a drowning victim, sinking for a final time. In over her head. “This place doesn’t strike me as the kind to have Sex on the Beach, even the occasional one.”

“Which place? The bar or Rose Bend?”

The corner of his mouth hitched in an almost smile. And against her will, curiosity tugged at her. She didn’t need curiosity for her plans tonight. And yet, she couldn’t stop her mind from wondering,Whyalmost? Do you smile often? If not, why?

Yeah, she had to stop this dicey spiral of thoughts before it got her in trouble.

And talked her right out of orgasms.

“Take your pick,” he murmured. Or challenged.

It was low, couched in what could still be considered polite, harmless conversation, but oh yes, it was still a challenge. To see how far she was willing to push it.

Oh Mr. Big, Bearded and Sinful, I’ve had a shitty two weeks fending off a mentor-turned-octopus. I am angry, have whiskey lighting me up like a UFO sighting and left my last fuck back over the Massachusetts state line. I’m ready to, in the immortal words of Salt-N-Pepa, push it real good.

Not quite tipsy enough to say all that aloud, she finished off the rest of her beer and signaled Maddox for another one. In moments, he replaced her empty with a fresh bottle, his blue gaze running over her face, probably gauging her sobriety. Flo flashed him a smile, letting him know she was fine. Shaking his head, he gave her a small smirk in return then walked off.

“Well, Road’s End is a dive bar, so you’re pretty much going to get beer, local IPAs and some top-shelf liquor.” She nodded toward his glass. “But if you know people—” she leaned toward him, lowering her voice “—and I know people, you can sometimes get away with fancier drinks.” Another of those almost smiles, and it glimmered in his eyes. God, the sight of that wide, sensual mouth pulled into a full, genuine grin might be more than her poor heart could take.

For a brief moment she’d wanted to see the full Monty of that smile.

She’d changed her mind.

“Rose Bend seems like a small, innocent town, but don’t let the church steeple fool you. There’s Rose Bend After Dark if you know where to look. Or if you want to look.”

A long, silent moment practically pulsed with heat between them. Now she waited to see how far he would push.

“So you’re from here?” he asked.

Tilting her head, she lobbed back, “Are you?”

“No.”

Relief streamed through her, and she lifted her beer for a sip to hide her smile. She must’ve done a terrible job of it, though, because he huffed out a soft chuckle.

“That seems to please you. Now my curiosity won’t let menotask why. Is being a resident of Rose Bend such a crime?”

“Of course not,” she said, adding a shake of her head for emphasis. “This is a great town. Wonderful place to grow up. But small pool for what I want.”

“And that is?”

Nerves tangled in her belly, and that steady, jeweled gaze didn’t help. Quite the opposite. It further entangled the liquor-infused bravado. But it also ignited the need already simmering inside her. Stifling the urge to shift on the bar stool, to somehow alleviate the ache setting up a slow, insistent throb between her legs, she met that stare.

“One night. With you.”

There. She put it out there. No taking it back. And though she’d murmured the words, they seemed to echo. She fought to maintain their visual connection when a part of her desired to duck her head or rescind that bold statement.

No, that was a lie.

Embarrassment over his potential rejection might stain her neck and chest, but she didn’t want to take back the offer. She’d been honest. And hell, in the spirit of that honesty, she was a little desperate, too.

Being alone tonight... Yeah, avoiding the empty ache was worth the risk of some embarrassment.

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