Page 6 of Nights at Seaside
“That makes you even more interesting. You follow your heart. That’s what I do, too.”
Sky melted a little right there on the stool, sitting beside Sawyer Bass, with his smooth voice, hot bod, and wordy back. It was all she could do to remember to pick up the hand mirror to show him the tattoo. She rose to her feet and reached for his hand. She had no idea why she did it and was even more stunned when he took her hand and his lips curved up in that easy smile again as he followed her to the full-length mirror in the back of the room. He turned and assessed the tattoo in the reflection of his back in the hand mirror.
“You are good with your hands,” he said with a more mischievous grin.
“I guess that makes us even, since you’re good with words, Sawyer.”
His brows knitted together again. “You know my name?”
“Last night. They announced your name, remember?”
“Oh, right. Well, it seems I’m at a disadvantage. I don’t know your name.”
“Sky. Sky Lacroux.” Their eyes held, and whatever had turned her brother off last night went out the door. Everything about Sawyer Bass turned her on, from the mysterious look in his eyes to the words etched in his back—and if he was rough, as Hunter assessed, then she wanted to experience it firsthand.
“That’s a beautiful name.” He handed her the mirror, and their fingers brushed, sending a shiver through her.
He followed her back to where he’d left his shirt and pulled it on. Sky instantly missed the sight of his flesh. At the register he picked up her book of poetry, then met her gaze again as he pulled out his credit card.
“Are you a fan of C. J. Moon?”
She laughed as she said, “I’m inlovewith C. J. Moon.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” she said as he ran his credit card through the machine. “My friends think I need an intervention because if I could find more information on him, I’d probably track him down like the worst kind of fangirl there is.”
He cocked a brow. “Ah, so you’re a stalker?”
“Of the worst kind,” Blue said as he came through the door. “She’s got a serious ice cream addiction, too.” He held out a hand in greeting. “Sawyer Bass, right? We saw you play last night. Did she stalk you and trick you into coming here? Or are you stalking her? I only caught thestalkerpart as I came through the door.”
Sky rolled her eyes.
“Nice to meet you, Blue. You’renotthe boyfriend, right?” Sawyer smiled as he shook his hand.
“I see we’ve already cleared up our relationship status.” Blue eyed Sky with a look that clearly said,I knew you were hot for him. “Friends without benefits—beyond a place to crash, that is. Oh, and kitty delivery service. Merlin’s upstairs.”
“Thanks, Blue. You’re a savior.” She answered Sawyer’s wrinkled brow with, “Merlin is my cat. He was at the groomer’s this afternoon, and Blue picked him up for me.”
“That was nice of him,” Sawyer said. “If you’re really interested in knowing more about C. J. Moon, I’d be happy to take you over to one of the places he wrote about. How late do you work tonight?”
Tonight?
Two of the best-looking guys in Provincetown were looking at her. One was drinking her in like she was delectable enough to eat, and the other had an I-told-you-so grin across his face. Heaven help her, because right at that moment she wanted to hug Blue and say,You were right!then jump into Sawyer’s arms and let him see how tasty she really was. Maybe she was having some sort of hormonal episode, because she wasn’t a jump-in-the-sack type of girl. She had no idea why her body felt electrified and her stomach felt like she’d swallowed a nest of wasps, other than pure, unadulterated lust.
And it had been way too long since she’d felt anything like it.
“I can take off when I’m done for the night.” She flipped through her appointment book.
“You know Moon?” Blue asked.
“I have a thing for poetry,” Sawyer said. “What about you? Are you a fan of his work?”
Blue held his hands up and shook his head. “No. Never read it, but I have the pleasure of watching Sky bury her nose in his books almost every day.”
“If I don’t get swamped,” Sky interjected, “I think I can close around seven.”
“Great. Why don’t I swing by then?”
