Bennett (On the Line 2)

Not a problem. This gorgeous, spirited woman could fall into my arms anytime she wanted.

Charlotte

I pushed my half-empty, second Long Island Iced Tea back a few inches. My head was swimming, I couldn’t stop smiling, and I was warm.

Or was the warmth from the hot man with nice brown eyes and wide shoulders next to me?

Bennett wasn’t like any other man I’d met at a bar. I could tell from the intensity of his gaze that he liked me, but he wasn’t hitting on me at all. I’d rested a hand on his bicep to brace myself when I felt unsteady a few minutes ago, but he hadn’t touched me back like I’d expected.

Most guys would have seized the opportunity and put a hand on my back or waist. But he just asked if I was okay, his lips quirking slightly.

He had to have a girlfriend. No man was this much of a gentleman. And that was a shame, because I wanted to let go of my Type A-ness tonight and be impulsive.

This handsome, mysterious stranger had made me forget all about Riley. I didn’t know anything significant about him. He liked draft beer, smelled faintly of leather, and was a good listener. But what I knew, I liked.

“You have a girlfriend,” I said, my tone edged with disappointment.

Bennett’s brows shot up. “No. I haven’t been in a relationship since last year.”

I turned my body closer to him, his words sending a warm charge of excitement through my body.

“Really? Not even an on-again, off-again thing? Or an ‘it’s complicated’ thing?”

He smiled as he tipped back his glass and finished the last of his beer. “Nope. Nothing.”

“I think you should come home with me,” I said, my heart racing.

I’d never done this. I was a woman who made pro/con lists and alphabetized my paperback collection. But something about spontaneity felt so right in this moment. Riley had wounded me, and Bennett was the salve I needed.

“I’d love to see you home, but I don’t think your head’s clear enough for anything more tonight,” he said. “Much as it pains me.”

“My head’s fine. I didn’t even finish the second drink.” I pointed at the glass for emphasis.

“Fine, huh?”

“Yep. Feel free to give me a field sobriety test, officer.”

He smiled. “I just might.”

I arched my brows in challenge and slid off my barstool. “You coming?”

“Share a cab?” he asked. “My ride took off already or I’d drive you.”

I was about to answer him when a burly guy at a nearby table got up, still looking at the person he was talking to as he approached the bar. He ran into me with his shoulder, knocking me off-balance.

Bennett steadied me with an arm around my waist.

“Watch it, asshole,” he said to the guy who’d run into me.

The guy turned around, scowling, but then took in Bennett’s tall, muscled form and grunted.

“Yeah, sorry,” he mumbled.

I nestled myself a little closer against Bennett, eager to get him home. The alcohol had squashed my tendencies to analyze and be cautious, and I was loving it. This was what life was like for my girlfriends who lived in the moment. I’d been missing out on so much fun.

When we stepped out the front doors of Cosmos, we got lucky and found a waiting cab. I gave the driver my address and reached for Bennett’s hand. My hand was cold, but instead of commenting, he just covered it with his own and rubbed my hand to warm it up.

We didn’t talk on the ride. I was thinking about my apartment. The dishes were done, the laundry was picked up, and my roommate James was out for the night. Thank God. He would’ve killed the mood for sure.