“Lemonade,” she sang, floating down the stairs.
Voices echoed from the game room and I gripped the edge of my dress as I approached the open door. Holy smokes. The television on the wall to my right was humongous! All they needed was a couple of leather chairs in front of it instead of the oversized beanbag. There weren’t many places to sit, although most of the guys were just standing around by the dartboard and bar. A couple of men stood beside an impressive billiard table with a green felt top that looked brand new. A cylindrical lamp hung from the ceiling with a red shade, illuminating the table. A couple of guys clinked their glasses together at the bar on my left. It was a spacious room full of men.
Attractive men.
Not that all of them were physically good-looking, but there was an air of confidence about them—something magnetic I couldn’t put my finger on.
I targeted a barstool and quickly went to claim it. Someone whistled and the boisterous chatter fell to a murmur. I tucked my skirt beneath me as I took a seat.
No bartender. Great.
“Hey, April. Glad you made it,” Denver said with a welcoming smile. He walked behind the bar and patted his hands on the smooth surface. “You want a drink? Anything you like; this is what I do for a living.”
“Do you have any soda?”
He shook his head, and my eyes wandered down to his faded red T-shirt.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I pointed at the cross on his shirt that had Lifeguard written below it.
Denver poured ginger ale in a short glass and leaned close on his elbows. “It means if someone needs any mouth-to-mouth, I’m your man.”
“Even that guy?” I suggested, pointing a few seats down.
He reached out and touched the ends of my hair. “You’re really pretty.”
His directness flustered me and I sat up straight, almost knocking over my drink. It splashed on the bar and he leaned over and grabbed a rag, wiping it up casually with a private smile.
“Is Reno around?”
He frowned a little. “Maybe you should stay away from him.”
“Why?”
Denver slanted his eyes to the left and then back. “He’s rough with women in bed.”
“I didn’t say I wanted to sleep with him.” This took me by surprise and piqued my curiosity. “What do you mean by rough?”
“I mean, unless you like being tied up, blindfolded, and submissive to his every command, then you should keep away from Reno. He’s got control issues and plays them out in the bedroom. You don’t seem like his type. At all.”
Why did a tiny thrill move through me as I got a visual? I had never done anything adventurous in bed, but a small part of me was a little curious. Then again, Denver was probably yanking my chain. That’s what brothers did.
When I turned around, my heart almost stopped. Reno filled the doorway, arms folded, his sharp eyes taking in my every move. And he looked all kinds of hot—from the shine on his boots to the neat way in which his white button-up shirt was tucked in. My heart thumped harder and harder until I had to take a deep breath. Even worse, Reno didn’t move. He just kept watching me and I couldn’t read his expression. I thought he wanted to dance with me? Why didn’t he come over?
Because you look desperate, my inner voice said, mocking me. Men don’t want a woman that clings to them like a sock fresh out of the dryer.
I swiveled my chair toward the pool table. One man leaned over and took a shot, while his friend with the trimmed goatee hung back. He had his pool stick standing on end and rolled it slowly between his fingers.
Eyes on me.
“Motherfucker!” the man taking the shot barked out as he missed. The white ball bounced around the table and clipped a green ball.
I knew nothing about pool outside of what I’d seen in the movies. What I did know was that tough guys looked sexy holding a big stick.
With slow precision, I crossed my legs. It gained an immediate reaction from the man with the goatee across the room, but my interest was in Reno. I swept my fingers through my hair and casually swung my eyes in his direction.
That’s when I saw her. A brunette strutted through the doorway wearing wedge shoes that boosted her four inches taller, white shorts, and a silk blouse. The kind that was low-cut in the front and looked like a gust of wind from the snap of a finger could make it evaporate.
Not to mention she was grossly endowed and had porn-star lips.
So that’s your competition? my inner voice wondered. Looks like your chance just went from slim to none.
Had she just walked into the room and mingled, I wouldn’t have given her a second glance. But she had her eyes all over Reno as if she were memorizing his DNA.
She crossed in front of him and turned around so that he could admire every angle of her curvaceous figure. When they engaged in conversation, I sulked.