“It’s still cheating.” I put the picture frame back on the mantelpiece and join Mandy, right before Mr. Hot Guy returns with three cups of steaming liquid that smells of black tea, cane sugar, and—
“I didn’t know what you wanted, so I added a bit of rum to it,” Mr. Hot Guy says, pushing a hot mug of tea into my hands. My gaze sweeps over his fingers. No ring. No shadow. Not even the presence of a faint tan line. For some reason, relief floods through me.
As I grab the mug out of his hand, I cringe at the surge of pain shooting through my fingers, but I don’t complain, in case he changes his mind and decides to throw our unwelcome asses out after all.
“Thanks,” I mumble and follow his invitation to take a seat on the large leather sofa overlooking the fireplace.
I sink into the luxurious cushions and let my gaze slide over everything and anything but Mr. Hot Guy, who’s taken his seat opposite from me and seems to regard me with a frown lodged between his brows.
“You look familiar,” he says after taking a gulp of his beverage.
My breath hitches, and I almost choke on my drink. With a nervous glance at Mandy, I turn my eyes back to him. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sure I’ve seen you before.” His gaze locks with mine in a strange battle. “I just can’t remember where. Care to refresh my memory?”
What the hell!
Is he suffering from short-term memory loss? Because I’m pretty sure he recognized me on the porch, so why the question? Taking a deep breath, I catch the glint in his eyes.
He must be playing with me.
The sudden knowledge angers me. Mr. Hot Guy is off-limits, and Mandy isn’t exactly the kind of person you can tell everything without her wanting to meddle in one’s private affairs. And then there’s his girlfriend. I’ve no idea what he’s trying to achieve, but I don’t do cheaters. Ever.
Two can play this game.
Planting a fake smile on my lips, I stare him down. “I’m sure we haven’t. You must be confusing me with someone else.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I have a feeling we’ve met before. Ford, right?”
“The car?” I shrug. “It’s a popular brand.”
“I’m sure it is.” His eyes lock with mine, forcing me to keep his heated gaze until I feel myself melting under his scrutiny. “But my feeling’s never wrong.”
“It is this time.”
“You sure?” he asks.
“You’re mistaking me for someone else.”
“Ava’s driving a white Ford,” Mandy butts in, not really helping. “Where do you think you met her?”
I lift a hand to stop him before he gets a chance to reply. “It’s none of your business, so butt out.”
“Whatever.” Mandy shrugs.
“Maybe I am confusing you with someone else,” Mr. Hot Guy says.
“You are.” I groan inwardly. Not because he’s trying to expose me so openly in front of my best friend, but because I’m forced to look at him…and don’t like what I see.
In the indirect light of the fireplace and several table lamps, he looks magnificent…and oh so intimidating.
He’s beautiful, no doubt about that. His features are something you usually see on movie posters, and his clothes barely hide the Adonis body underneath them. But what makes him dangerous material to any woman’s heart—and panties—are his magnetic eyes.
The kind that whisper sweet promises of nights filled with endless lust and clutching at the sheets in ecstasy.
The kind that draw you in with no guarantees of a tomorrow. Or even post-sex breakfast in bed. Come morning, he’ll be gone, carrying your damp panties in one hand and your heart in the other. His eyes narrow on me, taking me all in, from head to toe.
“Hmm.” He leans forward, and his knee almost brushes mine. The gesture is so intimate, I can almost feel his touch on my skin.
Why won’t he just drop it?
Maybe he really has no idea where we’ve met.
Irritated, I turn away, sipping on my cup of tea and burning my tongue in the process because I don’t know what else to do with myself.
“I don’t think we have met,” Mandy says. “I never forget a face, and most certainly not someone like you. I’m Mandy, and this is Ava. We’re from New York, by the way.” She points her hand at me and leans forward, her ample bust on full display.
“Kellan Boyd,” Mr. Hot Guy says, ignoring her attempt at flirting.
Kellan?
I fight the sudden urge to say his name out loud, just to hear what it sounds like on my tongue.
I lean back and deliberately turn away from him as I watch Mandy’s reaction.
Her whole posture’s changed. She looks kind of agitated. Is that shock etched in her features?
But why?
“Did you just say Boyd?” she asks slowly. “Like the Boyd brothers?”
Licking her lips, she crosses one leg over the other and brushes a strand of blond hair out of her face. The gesture is so innocent and yet provocative I almost cringe. She peers at me meaningfully, like I’m supposed to understand something major. I shrug my shoulders at her.
Does she know him?
Am I supposed to know who he is? Because I sure as hell have no clue.