I wiped my eyes. “So, now what?”
She shrugged. “I have a new job. A new beginning, far away from Toronto and that creep.”
I sipped my beer, still chuckling. “Good plan. Anything interesting?”
Her eyes danced. “I’m going to take care of an elderly gentleman. He needs a lot of help.” She leaned close, her voice dropping, those dimples deepening as she beamed. “He’s a bit grumpy, a curmudgeon, I think, but I can handle him. Easy peasy.”
“I bet you can.” I paused. “You like older men, Red?”
“You mean like you?” she responded, teasing. “What are you—thirty-five?”
“Close. Thirty-seven.”
She shrugged. “Age is a number. That doesn’t bother me.”
I had no idea why that news pleased me.
“I’m twenty-five,” she offered. “I feel older most days. Like I said, just a number.”
I asked her some questions about Toronto, and she responded with witty comments, making me chuckle more. She asked about the area, and I told her what I knew. I resisted asking her if she would be returning.
I wasn’t looking to start anything. I pushed aside the fact that I found her pretty, intelligent, and funny. I liked the way she spoke, meeting my eyes directly, using her hands to emphasize something. On occasion, I would catch a whiff of her perfume when she moved her head or pushed back her hair. It was light and citrusy—not overpowering or heavy. Her eyes fascinated me; the odd shade of green seemed to deepen to almost gray at times, depending on her emotion. I had never seen eyes like that.
Often, our knees pressed together, the warmth seeping into my skin. She was a toucher. My arm, hand, shoulder. Once, she brushed my cheek, showing me a small spot of ketchup I had missed earlier. My skin felt as if it were on fire where her fingers touched me.
She suddenly yawned, covering her mouth, her eyes wide. “Holy moly, I should get back to the motel. I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.”
I didn’t ask where she was going. It was none of my business. But I stood. “I’m parked by the motel. I’ll walk you.”
“I don’t need protection.”
Eyeing her diminutive stature, I lifted an eyebrow. She was tiny in my eyes. “Maybe I was hoping you’d protect me.”
She tossed her red hair, the color catching the light. “That makes more sense.”
I waved to Vanessa and followed Red from the bar. Outside, it was quiet, the streets mostly deserted. I was surprised to see it was past ten. I had been sitting talking to her for over two hours. We turned in the direction of the motel, neither of us in a hurry.
“Wow, you really see the stars out here.”
I glanced up with a nod. “Yeah, it’s clear.”
She sighed. “Not in Toronto. Sometimes the smog is easier to see through, but they are never like that.”
We were close to the motel when it happened. She was so busy staring up, she missed a small divot, and with a gasp, fell forward. I bent fast, grabbing her around the waist and stopping her from hitting the pavement. I yanked her up tight to my chest.
“Okay there, Red?”
She stared up at me, her eyes wide. Her cheeks were flushed—from the wine or the scare of almost falling, I wasn’t sure. But for some reason, I loosened one arm and ran my fingers down her cheek. The skin was soft and supple. The air around us became warm. Heated. My heart rate picked up. Charlynn’s breathing became deeper, her chest pressing into mine.
“You are beautiful,” I murmured.
“You’re really tall,” she breathed out.
I couldn’t help my chuckle. “I am.”
“And so sexy.”
I lifted one eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“Yes.”
Like magnets, our heads were drawn together. I bent as she lifted up on her toes, our mouths hovering, tasting each other through our heavy breathing.
My lips ghosted over hers, feeling the full lushness of her mouth tremble.
Hers pressed up, seeking, warm, and tender.
I slid my tongue along her bottom lip, teasing, light. Testing.
She whimpered, reaching up her hand to fist my T-shirt, bringing me in closer.
Our mouths fused together.
And the rest of the world ceased to exist.
Chapter 6
CHARLYNN
His mouth. His wicked, talented, sexy mouth. I had been staring at it all night. When he smiled, Reynolds was the sexiest man I had ever seen. He had a stern, frosty air about him. But when he relaxed, his entire countenance changed, and the sexy, dangerous edge melted away, leaving only a charismatic, intriguing man behind. The way he had laughed when I told him my story, his eyes wide, teeth gleaming white against the tan of his face, he had taken my breath away.
When he had appeared by my side while that idiot had been hassling me, I was annoyed since I had the situation well in hand. But he let me lead, assisting me, and adding only his quiet strength. Sitting beside him after, sharing a drink and talking, I felt as if he was really listening. His gaze was focused entirely on me, and he asked the right questions, letting me know he wasn’t simply putting in time. I felt strangely safe next to him, his massive frame blocking out the people behind him. I was fascinated watching the way his muscles flexed as he moved. How his biceps bunched and rippled when he lifted his glass or used his hands to make a point as he spoke. Up close, I could see the richness of his dark eyes, but I noticed that, even relaxed, they were wary. He held himself tense, his shoulders ramrod straight, his expression guarded at times. When he had spoken to that asshole Wes, his low voice, growly and rough, had sparked something primitive inside me. Not usually drawn to broody men, I was surprised.