Page 11 of The Hookup
Her eyes swept over his face, and over his god-like body, and she knew she had to have him. Every part of her was reacting to him and he had done nothing more than look at her. Desire engulfed her, and her mind raced with thoughts of what it would be like to be in his bed.
He stood up, folding his arms, breaking that magic moment in which the two of them had been bound. When he abruptly moved away, yanking that intimately shared moment, she felt as if her oxygen supply had been cut.
She suddenly missed that closeness. “You might be right,” she managed to say.
“Is he a recent ex?” he asked, his voice louder, direct, returning to a more casual tone.
Was Dean a recent ex?The question wasn’t an easy one to answer. Although they’d broken up before she’d gone to Hong Kong, since her return, twice he’d asked her to meet for drink and to talk about things, and twice she’d ended up in his bed. “Sort of,” she replied, vaguely. She weighed up pouring her heart out to him, versus being coy and trying to win him over through the art of subtle flirtation. Though she didn’t do subtle the way Savannah probably did.
Still, the bartender didn’t need to know all the details.
“Sort of?” he asked, giving her a disbelieving grin.
“He dumped me over a year ago.”
“Over a year ago, and he’s still trying to worm his way back to you.” The bartender looked at her, and she flinched, wondering what he was thinking. “A girl like you shouldn’t have to go running back to a guy who dumped you,” he said, making her smile.
He understood her, and right now she needed to be with someone who understood her. She sat up, taking notice. Liking the cornflower blue of his eyes, even in the lamp-lit golden light, those eyes were hard not to be drawn into. Like a spell, a hazy, lazy, hypnotic spell, he was reeling her in, and she was sure he had no idea of the effect he was having on her.
“I’m not so lucky when it comes to meeting good men,” she told him, allowing herself to open up.
“Maybe you’ve been looking in the wrong place.”
“Maybe.”
“Another cocktail?”
Was he asking her because he was interested? Her heart rate sped up and she decided that Max and Briony could wait. She would stay here for a while longer.
“Same again, if you don’t mind.” She was about to say something flirty, and dirty, but decided against it and watched as he rustled up another cocktail. She examined him slowly, her eyes raking over his body. “Where did you learn these skills?”
He snorted. “Making cocktails is hardly rocket science.”
“But, still,” she pressed. “Is there a place you all go to learn? Like a school for mixologists?”
“Please do not ever call me that.”
“You don’t like being called a mixologist?” she asked, amused.
“No.”
“It sounds more upscale than bartender.”
“What doyoudo for a living?”
She fiddled around with the cocktail umbrella. “I’m a secretary.” Most guys could handle that. If she told them she was in investment banker, they probably wouldn’t believe her, and then they’d worry she earned more than them. She didn’t want to risk scaring this guy off.
“A secretary,” he said, slowly, almost as if he didn’t believe her.
“Did you not have me down for a secretary?” she asked, curious, and afraid that his x-ray intuition might reveal her lie.
He shook his head. “I’m not sure. That’s an expensive bag, high-end, as is that dress. And you obviously take good care of yourself. A PA to some big guy?”
She swallowed, and wondered if she’d got it wrong about him not being gay, since he had obviously noticed every detail about her wardrobe, grooming and accessories. But he had a sister, and maybe that was why he seemed more switched on.
Intrigued, she propped her elbow on the counter, and looked up at him through her lashes. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m Kay,” she said, “Savannah’s cousin.”
He snorted with laughter. “I know. It’s my business to know who everyone is the moment they set foot on the island.”
