Page 25 of Nailed

But there was only one woman I wanted back in my hotel room. The woman I wanted had a little mole on her jaw I badly wanted to kiss. She had clumsy feet when she got nervous. She made videos online showing teen girls how to build things out of wood, smiling and looking beautiful even when she was clearly in pain. I’d lied in the truck. I hadn’t audited her file. I read every word of her file the moment Seamus hired her, and I’d since watched those videos about a thousand times each.

I knew way too much about Sarah fucking Cooper, who’d refused to show up for the fucking social event of the season.

“Hello, you!” Alexandra said when she reached us.

“Hi!” Bob said enthusiastically.

Alexandra’s eyes went to Bob. She smiled, politely shaking his hand before snapping her gaze back to me.

“Jamie. Missed you last year. Were you here? Or avoiding me?” She meant to sound flirtatious, I knew. But her voice grated. Just like everyone who wasn’t Sarah Cooper grated.

“Wasn’t here.”

“As verbose as always, I see.”

A couple of years ago, I’d half enjoyed her sardonic jabs. Now, I just wanted her to leave. She was blocking my view of the entrance.

But I tore my eyes away from the door. It wasn’t her fault I was all cut up inside about Sarah.

“How are you, Alexandra?”

But the moment she started talking, all sound fell away.

Because that’s when I saw Sarah.

She was with another woman I couldn’t have described if you asked me to. But Sarah—I could tell you every last detail about her in a matter of seconds. Her hair was loose, falling in soft waves around one shoulder. She wore a dress the color of spruce trees, which fell only to her mid-thigh. And below that, shiny black heels that would look better only if they were up around my ears. The V in the front of her dress dipped as low as her bathing suit had yesterday. But this dress, even though it showed less skin than the swimsuit, was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. I didn’t know what the fabric was, but I wanted to feel it slide between my fingers. Better yet, I wanted to see it crumpled on the ground next to my bed.

The only thing hotter than that dress—and it was a very, very close second—had been seeing her in my shirt this morning.

I still wasn’t over that. Not even after slipping back to my room ahead of my committee meeting and vigorously fucking my hand.

Fuck if my cock didn’t thicken right there in my pants thinking of her then and now.

Alexandra wasn’t an idiot. She followed my gaze. “Got your sights set on someone else this season, eh, Reilly?”

She didn’t even sound insulted, just annoyed.

I didn’t bother denying it. “Sorry, Alex. Maybe…”

What? Next time? No, maybe never. I never wanted to sleep with her or any other woman again. I didn’t bother finishing the sentence.

“She’s cute, Jamie. But be careful. I was at her talk today. She doesn’t think too highly of men.”

I bristled, finally turning my attention fully to the woman in front of me. “She’s notcute, Alexandra. She’s fucking perfect. And if that’s what you got out of her talk, you missed the whole fucking point.”

Alexandra’s eyebrows lifted, but she didn’t say anything else. Hopefully she was rethinking what Sarah’s talk had tried to get across—not that men were bad. Just that we’d all fucking failed women in this business. Hell, Alexandra should know that.

But Alexandra had already moved on, clearly in search of someone who might be better company. I didn’t blame her. Bob had moved on, too, following in Alex’s wake. I didn’t blame him, either.

I didn’t care about either of them, anyway. All I cared about was keeping eyes on Sarah. If this was my reaction to seeing her, I could only imagine what other men in here might be thinking. It was enough to make me put down my glass before it shattered in my hand.

A crowd of people doing a round of shots had gathered between me and her, and for a moment, I lost her. I cursed, willing them to get the fuck out of my way as they cheered. After drinking, they stood there altogether too long, and I was half tempted to shove through them to see her again. But I’d look like a fucking lunatic if I did that. So, I ordered another whiskey, and by the time it arrived, they’d shifted enough for me to see.

I clenched my jaw. She was still there, but now her friend had started dancing with some other women, and Sarah was talking to a man. A handsome man who looked to be in his late thirties.

Her age.

“Hey, Mr. Reilly.”

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