Take A Chance With Me (With Me in Seattle 18)

Prologue

~Maggie~

Two Years Ago

* * *

“I’m gonna go talk to him.” I suck down the last half of my martini, confidence bolstered by the liquor and having my friends around me. It’s a girls’ night out in my family’s pub, and damn it, I need…something.

A connection? Attention from a man that my piece-of-shit late husband was never willing—or able—to provide, perhaps?

A damn orgasm for the first time in my life.

All of the above.

I slide out of the booth and take a deep breath. If I don’t go over to the bar and talk to him now, I never will. And damn it, he’s hot.

Of course, if my eldest brother, Kane, finds out, he might be super mad at me. I’m about to hit on his best friend, after all. And, well, that’s just madness. Cameron Cox has been in my life for as long as I can remember. He’s a decade older than me, so I don’t know him well. He’s just always…there.

And he’s the sexiest man on the planet.

I’m drunk. I’m sick of being sad and embarrassed. And I want him.

“Hey,” I say as I sidle up next to him at the bar. Keegan, my other brother, raises a brow, asking if I want a drink, but I shake my head. He tips his lips in a half-grin and walks off to help other customers.

Cameron’s gaze turns down to me, and he smiles.

Fucking hell, his smile should be illegal in the presence of a slightly drunk woman.

“Hi, yourself,” he says. “You doing okay?”

It’s now or never, Mags. Let’s do this.

“Honestly? I’m great. But I could use some company, if you know what I mean. Naked company.”

That smile vanishes, and his crystal-blue eyes narrow on me. His jaw tightens. My heart beats so hard that blood rushes through my ears, drowning out everything else around me.

If he turns me away right now, I might die of embarrassment.

He shakes his head, sips his beer as if he’s trying to come up with a response—or an excuse—and then pins me with that intense gaze once more.

“I’m not one to turn down an offer like that from the most gorgeous woman here.”

I laugh in relief and lay my hand on his shoulder, which he takes and kisses. And then, without another word, we walk out of the bar.

He leads me to his car, a classic Mustang, but before he opens the passenger door, he leans in and whispers in my ear.

“Are you absolutely sure this is what you want, Maggie?”

“Yes.” Absolutely. Give me all the orgasms.

“It could open a can of worms with the family,” he warns me.

“I’m an adult, Cam. I get to make these decisions for myself. Unless you’re afraid of Kane.”

“Kane doesn’t scare me.” He sighs and drags a thumb down my cheek. “And you’re not just sad or angry?”

I know he’s asking if I’m coming on to him because of grief after losing my husband a month ago. But I’m not grieving. He was mean to me, didn’t love me, and made me feel worthless.

“No, this isn’t grief talking.”

He nods, kisses my cheek, and opens the door. “Fair enough.”

I sit in the low seat and take another deep breath. The cool Washington air helped to clear my head a bit, but I’m still floaty, my lips a little numb as he sits next to me and fires up the engine. Without asking, he drives us to his hotel, the place he stays whenever he’s in town, and again takes me by the hand to lead me up to his suite.

His hand is big, firm, and folds around mine with a comforting warmth I didn’t expect. He’s tall, muscular, and lean through the hips.

I’ve wanted to bury my fingers in his thick, dark hair for years. And when alone and lying in the dark, I often wondered what his lips would taste like.

Not that I would have ever acted on it. Not in a million years. He’s my brother’s best friend, and I was married.

But now, I’m not.

When we’re in the room, and the door is closed, Cameron rounds on me, pins my back to the wood, and lowers his head to mine. He presses his lips to my forehead, my nose, and then glides them over to my ear, sending a thrilling chill down my arms.

“Gorgeous,” he whispers, echoing his sentiment in the bar. “Fucking amazing.”

My breath catches when he skims his teeth over my skin, just beneath my ear. His hands push up under my shirt, over my ribs.

Nothing in my entire twenty-six years has ever made me feel like this.

“If you want me to stop,” he whispers before nipping at my jawline, “just tell me to, okay?”

I nod, but he pulls back to look into my eyes and takes my chin in his fingers.

“Use your words, Maggie.” I like that he’s in control. That he’s taking care of me and is so sure of himself.