Because of Lila (Sea Breeze Meets Rosemary Beach 2)

He picked up my menu and handed it back to me. “I’ve been eating at this bar since before it was legal for me to get inside. Trust me. Go with the potato skins.”

I nodded. I should say something witty or flirty, but I had nothing. I was sucking at this new Lila Kate thing. “Okay,” was my wonderful response. Just “okay.” What was wrong with me? I had seen attractive men all my life. Why was this one making it hard for me to talk?

“Larissa!” he called out, and the redhead turned to look at him with a frown that reached her forehead.

“What, Eli?” She didn’t move from her position at the bar.

He looked at me. “What’s your name?”

That I could answer easily enough. “Lila,” I replied deciding that the new Lila Kate was going to drop that Kate. That name was silly and it made me sound ten years old. Lila was . . . sexier.

He gave me a crooked grin. “Lila. I like that. Fits you.” Then he turned back to Larissa. “Lila here wants the potato skins loaded with crab.”

Larissa walked over to us. “I see you’re making friends,” she said to Eli and then smiled at me. “He’s had a little too much tonight. I’d cut him off but trust me this is a rarity for him. Anyway, did he order for you because he’s planning on eating your food, or do you want the loaded potatoes?”

Everyone knew each other here. How nice. It was like a television show. “Yes, he has sold me on them. They sound delicious.”

Larissa chuckled. “Don’t set your hopes too high. They’re good but delicious may be pushing it. What about a drink?”

Normally, I’d order bottled water. Instead, I said, “Dirty martini please.”

“Got ID?”

I reached for my purse and took out my license then handed it to her. She glanced at it and nodded then looked at the guy beside me. “Behave,” she said before walking off behind the bar.

He sat down on the stool beside me and leaned back against the bar looking out over the crowd. “I’ve never seen you here before. Where are you from Lila?”

I started to say Rosemary Beach but stopped myself. I didn’t know this guy. He was a stranger. I wanted to live free and wild, but I needed to be careful to a certain degree.

“Florida,” I replied instead. It was a big state. I could be vague.

He nodded. “Florida, huh? I was assuming you were on vacation, but if you’re from Florida, I doubt that. Why vacation at this beach when you have beautiful ones there? What brings you to Alabama?”

I liked his voice. It was soothing. It paired nicely with the way he smelled—very appealing. “I’m traveling west. Going on an adventure of sorts.”

He turned to look at me then. “An adventure? Alone?”

Okay, that was a bad idea. I shouldn’t tell a strange guy I was alone. “No, I’m traveling with friends,” I lied quickly.

He didn’t look convinced. “Really?”

I nodded. “Yes, really.”

“Dirty martini,” Larissa said placing the drink I ordered in front of me. It had the ice slivers in it that I loved.

“Thank you. This looks wonderful.”

“She’s the best,” Eli agreed. “Now how about another Jack?” he asked her.

“How about a glass of water first,” she said sliding a glass of water in front of him.

“You’re killing my buzz, Larissa,” he said looking unhappily at his glass of water.

“I’m saving your ass,” she told him. Then she turned and said to me over the music that was growing louder, “Eli’s a nice guy. Better when he’s sober. And your food will be out in five,” she said holding up her hand with her five fingers spread.

I figured he had the approval of the bartender who seemed nice enough. I wasn’t going to be abducted or raped tonight. That was a relief.

Eli Hardy

TOO MUCH ALCOHOL was never a good thing. Unless you were home alone with pizza, or even better, Chinese food and the box set of Rocky DVDs. Then you were safe. But I’d been sworn off women for three weeks. The last women I had dated had made a wedding planner by the sixth date and proceeded to show it to me. That had been our last date.

I missed women. I’ll admit it. The one sitting next to me was gorgeous, and she reminded me of that etiquette book my grandmother made Larissa read when we were kids. Grandma tried to make me read that book, but I wasn’t doing it. I pretended. The picture of the girl on the front of the book was so polished and polite—that look hadn’t been attractive until now. Wrapped up in this package beside me, it was a complete turn on.

Watching her attempt to eat a potato skin with a fork and knife was priceless. Larissa’s face when she asked for “flatware” had been even better. We had grown up around my grandmother, so we were used to proper people. But in a place like Live Bay, you didn’t run into this sort of girl.