Hannah took a swallow of her drink but kept her eyes on him. “Oh, I’m certain you are.”
He matched her whiskey, only he finished his in one swallow, then rolled up the sleeves on his shirt. Hannah was transfixed by the action. Tan skin, strong hands, his forearms flexing with every inch that was uncovered.
“What if I told you I’m a regular guy?” he asked.
“Then I’d tell you I’m a regular girl.”
“You’re not?” Grant asked.
Hannah shook her head, noticing the alcohol making her brain heavy. “Just a small-town girl.” A trashy small-town girl, but she’d leave that out. She’d follow Grant’s lead and be Hannah, only without the problems. Like the fact that she’d spent her whole life trying to outrun the truth that she came from trash, and there was a big chance no one would ever see her as different.
She looked at Grant.
He was looking at her like she was different. He had no idea of her past, her father’s past, any of it. And damn it, she’d give about anything to have a man like him continue to look at her the way he was.
But she needed to keep her strength. No way in hell was she going to get swept up in some white-collar guy.
“Tell me what a small-town girl like you thinks about,” he asked.
“Small things,” she said.
“No, I don’t believe that for a second. I can see your brain working behind those eyes. You’re a big-picture woman.”
She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from telling him he was right. Instead, she lifted her chin in the air with all the confidence she could muster.
“Well, I can see where this big picture is going, and I can tell you right now, I don’t need to go ‘check out your room’ with you, since I’m pretty sure they’re all the same.”
He smiled and leaned closer to her. “You think I’d come at you with a presumptuous line like that?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, I wouldn’t. I’d come right out and ask you if you wanted to come to my room—for inappropriate reasons only.”
That piqued her interest. “Oh? And what kind of inappropriate reasons would those be?”
She’d meant that to sound playful, but her words were laced with curiosity and lust.
He rose from his seat and placed a bill on the counter for a tip. He then gripped the back of her bar stool and leaned in so close, she could feel his lips on her ear.
“Come find me tonight at the Red Bar on deck two, and I’ll tell you every single reason.”
She didn’t answer him. Just felt his heat draw back as he walked away.
Everything was color-coded around here, right down to the bars. The Red Bar . . .
Hannah looked around and admired the bright blues surrounding the dark cruise ship bar. Not red. Nope, she’d decided that after her encounter with the mysterious Grant Laythem, she wouldn’t be finding him.
Just their one encounter had left her hot twelve hours later. Now, drinking on a ship, surrounded by people, she felt the blue from the walls, the decor, sink into her bones.
Blue.
She glanced down at her simple dress and realized it was blue as well. Figured. It showed more cleavage than she ever had, mostly because she never wore dresses. But she’d bought this for the cruise, thinking it’d get her out of her comfort zone. It was tight, fit every curve, and she liked it.
She looked around, holding her drink in her hands. Surrounded by people, the loud music vibrating through her bones and humming down her spine.
She sipped her drink just as a man approached her. He was average height. Cute. Fit. For all the basic reasons, he was attractive.
But Hannah couldn’t even think about getting hit on or putting in effort to whatever it was this guy was saying. Her brain was spinning around the idea of “basic reasons.”