He glanced up at her and grinned. “That was me. I just texted you, so now you have my phone number, as well.”
With that, he opened the car door for her and she slid inside. He braced a forearm against the doorframe and leaned in closer, filling the inside of her vehicle with the enticing scent of his cologne. God, he smelled ridiculously good, and once again her body responded to the warm, woodsy fragrance that was as arousing as the man himself. It was all she could do to keep from squirming in her seat as she met his unapologetically direct gaze that was focused on her mouth. Which in turn caused her to nervously lick her bottom lip.
His slow, satisfied smile felt like a physical caress and clearly solidified that there was nothing pretend or fake about the simmering chemistry between them. It was a complication she really didn’t need, but then again, it would definitely add to the realistic appearance of a relationship if he was able to accompany her to Santa Barbara next weekend.
“I’ll be in touch, Evie Bennett,” he said, his voice deep and husky.
He stepped back and closed her door, and she watched in her rearview mirror as he walked to the row of cars behind hers and got into a dark gray sporty BMW. Wow . . . all she could think was that he must have been a damn good chauffeur who made a lucrative amount in tips to afford a luxury car like that.
He drove off and she started her own car, then reached into her purse to check her phone for any missed calls or messages before she headed to work. There was only one text message . . . the one that Eric had sent to her so she’d have his phone number, too.
She clicked on the notification to read what he’d written. Just so you know, I think you have a great ass.
Her jaw dropped in shock, but not because she was offended. The message was so unexpected . . . and dammit, so satisfying and flattering, when she’d been feeling so insecure about herself after what had happened with the other Eric. She liked knowing that another guy appreciated her curves. Especially this guy.
Thank you, she typed back, and hesitated only a few beats before brazenly adding, Just for the record, so do you. She wasn’t going to lie . . . she’d noticed his firm butt when he’d walked up to the counter to grab their drinks.
She imagined him chuckling as those dancing bubbles appeared on her screen as he formed his response. It came a few seconds later. Ms. Bennett, I think you and I are going to get along just fine.
The winky face emoticon he added at the end of the sentence put those butterflies right back into her stomach again.
As pretend boyfriend material, the man was good. Really good.
Eric walked into the office with a cheerful smile on his face that Heather, the receptionist at Prestige Car Services, noticed immediately and didn’t hesitate to point out.
She arched a brow at Eric as she reached for a few pink message slips and handed them to him. “Someone must have had a good morning . . . or a good night that lasted through to the morning,” she added meaningfully.
It was no secret to anyone, especially the people in his office and the drivers he and Leo employed, that he was a player, so to speak. While he didn’t do long-term relationships, he was a twenty-nine-year-old man with a healthy sex drive, and yeah, that meant having occasional sleepovers with women.
Rolling his eyes at her comment, Eric glanced through the calls he’d already missed that morning, while prioritizing the messages by importance.
Today, however, his upbeat disposition had nothing to do with waking up to a woman’s mouth wrapped around his dick and instead was a direct result of his highly enjoyable meeting with Evie Bennett, where the only physical contact he’d had with her was when he’d deliberately placed his hand on her lower back.
There had been nothing overtly sexual about the gesture, but he’d heard her tiny gasp of awareness, and damn if her satisfying reaction didn’t make him want to brazenly caress his palm a bit lower, over the ample curve of the ass he’d noticed back at the coffee shop, just to see if it felt as sweet in his hand as it looked encased in her formfitting jeans.
Somehow, he’d managed to resist that particular temptation but hadn’t hesitated to text her exactly what he thought of her luscious backside for her to read after he drove away. It had been bold and risky, certainly, but when she’d typed back her own cheeky response that made him laugh out loud, he’d known right then and there that this funny, endearing woman who’d been recently burned by a cheating asshole of an ex was one he wanted to spend the Fourth of July weekend with . . . because he genuinely liked her. A lot.