Page 22 of The Dance
She wrinkled her nose. “What do you mean ‘what would happen’?”
“Grandpa gonna kick my ass or what?” I chuckled sarcastically.
“He’s not that old.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and my gaze zeroed in on her tits in her low-cut top. A woman exited the bathroom, and we stepped to the side to let her pass.
“He could be my dad’s age,” I alleged once we were alone again.
“He probably is,” Stacey whispered.
I grunted a small laugh. “Probably is?”
“It’s none of your business, Blake.”
“Is he your boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Boss?”
“No.”
“Then why can’t you be seen with me?”
“It’s none of your business. I need to go.” She turned and opened the swinging door to the bathroom.
I followed, not caring I was walking into the ladies’ room.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
I didn’t know what I was doing, but I was going with it. Before I knew it, I spun her and backed her against the closed door, bringing my mouth to hers.
She pushed at my chest, pulling us apart. “What the hell?”
“Ever since that night you showed up at the bar, I’ve had a condom in my wallet waiting for you to return,” I stated.
She blinked. “What?”
I ran my finger down the side of her neck to the top of her breasts. “I was hoping you’d come back.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to. You never called me.”
She stared into my eyes. “Things have changed.”
I snorted and waved my hand toward our tables. “I can see that.”
“I really have to get back to the table.” She started to move around me, but I grabbed her wrist.
“Come by my place tonight.”
Stacey took a deep breath. “I can’t.”
“Why? Because you’re going home with grandpa?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
