The man leaned in to give her a kiss on the lips. The fact that this one lasted a whole second longer than the others she had been bestowing left and right made me suspect that this must be someone special.
Taking him by the hand, she dragged him in front of me. Finally getting a view unhampered by the crowds, I saw that he was everything that Georgia always went for, combined into one man. At least six-five, he looked like a mix between a surfer and a football player: windswept blond hair and suntanned skin but massive enough in build to single-handedly plow through an entire defensive line. His brown eyes were so light and crystalline that they looked like frozen butterscotch. And the way he held Georgia in a proprietary way confirmed they were an item.
“Finally we meet! Georgia’s little sister, Kate. I’ve heard about you. You didn’t tell me she was so pretty, Georgia.”
My sister drawled, “Now why would I go and do a thing like that?” Turning to me, she said, “Kate, this is Lucien. He owns the bar.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said.
He squeezed Georgia’s shoulders and leaned down to whisper something in her ear. Then, stretching back to his full height, he made a signal to the bartender indicating our group.
“Sweet Georgia Brown,” whistled Lawrence from my side. “Free drinks all night. Your sister has the magic touch.”
“I know,” I admitted as I watched Lucien kiss my sister’s hand before letting himself be pulled away by a frantic-looking manager. As he disappeared into the crowd, he grinned and gave me a wink.
A group of scruffy-looking guys walked into the room and headed our way. Lawrence leaned over and said, “Band alert. These guys are the hottest new group in town.”
“Then they’ve got to be friends of Georgia,” I sighed.
He smiled and nodded as they approached. One walked right up to Georgia and wordlessly pulled her out onto the dance floor. She leaned over and shouted something in his ear, and then smiled at me as one of his friends came over and took my hand. “Alex,” the guy yelled, brushing the long hair out of his eyes.
We danced next to Georgia and her friend for the next couple of songs. Alex’s flashing blue eyes and flirty grin definitely got my heart beating again. The way he smiled appreciatively at me showed me he didn’t mind being assigned as my “party boy.” He was handsome. He was human. So why wasn’t I able to relax and enjoy myself?
I finally leaned over to tell Alex I was going to get a drink. He gazed at me regretfully and mimed a sexy kiss as I walked away. I mentally kicked myself for my stupidity, but knew I couldn’t do anything else. Not tonight. Not for a while. Not until Vincent’s face left my aching brain in peace.
Lawrence had left by the time I got back to the bar, but seeing me, the bartender automatically poured another glass of Coke. I took it and went to sit on a giant leather cushion against the wall.
Leaning back against the cold stone, I squinted as I watched the wavelike movements of the teeming masses for a few minutes before closing my eyes. I let the music work its trancelike beat on my brain. A few seconds later, I heard a low, smooth voice say, “Tired?”
Opening my eyes, I saw that Lucien had grabbed a cushion and was sitting next to me. I smiled at him. He didn’t look quite as tough now that he wasn’t fighting off crowds of hangers-on, but there was a slight aura of permafrost hovering about him. Owning one of the trendiest bars in town had to have an effect on one’s ego, I told myself.
“Not really tired, just not in a dancing mood.”
“So. Does Georgia’s sister have a boyfriend?”
Okay, this guy is really direct. “Ah, no,” I said. “Not at the moment.”
“Well,” he said, rubbing his hands together for effect. “That’s good news for my friends!”
“Um. I’m . . . not really in the market.”
“But you wouldn’t be opposed to meeting people.” He raised a bushy blond eyebrow.
“Actually . . .”
Unwilling to hear my response, he stood and took my empty glass back to the bar, returning with a full one. “You’ll have to come with Georgia to a party I’m having in a couple of weeks. Everyone who’s anyone will be there.” He squatted down and handed me the glass. “And so will you!”
His playful pat on my shoulder gave me an unexpected visceral reaction: I recoiled. From the way his body tensed as he stood, I could tell that he had noticed. What is wrong with you? I chided myself, surprised by my reaction. He was just trying to be friendly—but I must be sorely out of practice at social interaction. Before I could say something to make up for my unintentional cold shoulder, he turned to talk to someone who had been impatiently waiting for his attention. I sipped my Coke and checked my phone: It wasn’t even midnight.
Rising to my feet, I threaded my way between the dancers until I reached Georgia. She gave me a concerned smile, and I shook my head. “Sorry, Georgia. Just can’t get into it. Going home,” I yelled over the music, gesturing toward the doorway in case she couldn’t hear me.
She nodded. “Are you going to be okay getting back alone?”