Page 19 of Shifting Sands
I twirl the olive pick in my glass, eyes on his. “Okay, maybe a little. My friends think I need to be … rescued from my singleness.”
He leans in, voice lower. “Do you want to be rescued?”
I look back at him. That smile. Those eyes. The way he’s not leaning too close or trying too hard. He’s just there.
“Depends on the night and the knight, I suppose,” I say, surprising even myself.
He chuckles, slow and real. “I’m more of a rogue than a knight.”
“Hmm. Those can be more fun.”
He opens his mouth to reply, but a guy two stools down waves a twenty and calls for tequila. He tosses me a wink and heads down the bar. I watch him go, heart racing like a lovestruck teenager. He moves with ease as he pours drinks and playfully flirts with a group of older ladies, making them laugh.
My glass is empty when he returns. He doesn’t say anything; he just leans on the bar and watches me.
“What?” I finally ask.
He shrugs. “I’m just wondering why your friends are concerned. You look like the kind of woman who’s used to being pursued.”
I raise a brow. “Used to being hit on, maybe. It’s not the same thing.”
“True.” He nods. “And you’re not buying what they’re selling out there, are you?” he asks, gesturing toward the crowded dance floor.
I shrug. “Not really. I’d rather have a conversation than a pick-up line.”
He nods, thoughtfully. “What do you want to talk about?”
I smile, tilting my head. “Music. Books. Life’s great mysteries like why aren’t we allowed to wear white after Labor Day?”
He whistles softly. “Heavy stuff for a Friday night.”
“You asked,” I say, biting my lip to hide a grin.
“That I did.”
“Hiya, handsome,” Erin coos over my shoulder, startling me.
“Hi yourself. What can I get you?” he asks.
“What’s your name and number?” she asks.
He licks his lips as his eyes fall to her ring finger and then flit back to hers.
She waves off his playful judgment. “I’m not trying to pick you up. I’m just gathering information in case I need to rescue my friend here,” she says, gesturing to me.
His eyes slide to me, and the corner of his mouth lifts into a sexy grin. “Rescue her from what exactly?”
“Evading the question, hmm.”
“Name’s Brew,” he says as he sets a shot glass in front of her and pours a shot of tequila. “Yours?”
She looks at the shot and back at him. “A bribe. Really?” she asks, shaking her head as she grabs the glass and looks at me. “I’m Bambi?”
I shake my head.
“Um, I mean, Erin.”
“Which is it?” he asks, resting his elbows on the bar.
