Don't Tell (Don't 1)

I attempted a flirty smile. “Glad you’re okay. Sorry, again.”

“It’s not the first time someone has assaulted me with a chair.” He had unbelievably long eyelashes that were as dark as his eyes.

“You’ve been hit with a chair? You must be in a dangerous line of work, or get in a lot of bar fights.”

He shrugged. “I used to, but I’m really trying to give up the bar fights.” His voice was husky and severe. It didn’t sound like a joke.

Could he see that my breath caught? That I was completely focused on every word that came from his mouth even though I’d heard less than twenty? I couldn’t fall for this dark and mysterious shit. I knew better.

Turn around, Emily. Walk away. I didn’t need to get reeled in. There was a hot bath calling my name at the apartment. My feet needed more attention than this stranger.

“Well, you can’t say something like that and not tell me about what you did,” I baited him.

I couldn’t help myself. I blamed the cosmos for my sudden brashness. That and the fact that I liked how he smelled. His cologne wasn’t overpowering, but every time he tilted his head I could smell juniper and a rich spicy scent.

“Is that so?” he challenged.

I nodded. “It is. You owe me at least one story for running into my chair.”

His eyebrows rose. “I ran into your chair?”

“Isn’t that how it happened?”

“I say we round up some witnesses and get the truth.” He looked over one shoulder and then the other. His skin was a golden bronze. He must spend time outside. “Should we try that table?” He pointed to a couple making out behind us.

Damn it. I was calculating a list of all his traits in a two-minute exchange.

“What if we order a round and call it even?” I suggested. I resisted the impulse to rest my fingers on his forearm. I could see where the muscles rippled under his skin.

He pulled out the chair for me. “I’ll agree to that if you tell me your name.”

I tucked the bottom of my dress under me as I took the seat. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Who was I? I’d never hit on a guy like him before. Much less a guy who looked like he did.

“I’m Emily.” I smiled.

“I like it. It’s different.” He sat in Greer’s old seat. “I’m Vaughn.”

Even his name was hot.

Another waitress appeared at the table. She noticed Vaughn and never looked at me. “Can I get you something?”

“What are you drinking?” he asked me.

“Oh, I’ll take another Cosmo.” I had a rule about not switching liquors during the night. Three Cosmos put me on the wrong side of alcohol consumption, but I couldn’t turn him down.

“A Cosmo for her and a bourbon and coke for me.” He stared at me while he ordered the drinks, dismissing the server.

“Got it,” she responded.

I swore the waitress winked at him.

He pushed forward on the table. “I’m not crashing a date or anything am I?”

“A date? Oh no.” I shook my head. “My roommate was called into work and had to leave.”

“I was wondering why a pretty girl was in here alone. Something didn’t add up.”

Pretty? He thought I was pretty. Had the man seen a mirror? I tried not to stare at his features, but there was something strong and confident about him. Maybe it was how the lines of his face made perfect angles. He had a solid jaw and sharp cheekbones.