Nick’s hand faltered in the process as he dropped the strainer on top of his shaker. “Hold on. Are you proposing that you be her rebound fling?”
“Why not?” Hunter said with a shrug. “These two clowns are inexplicably taken by hot women, you’re not interested, so…”
I’m interested.
In fact, it had occurred to him lately that he and Taylor burning up the sheets could have several benefits beyond sticking it to Calloway. For starters, maybe he and Taylor could figure out how to release their fangs from each other’s throat if they were at each other’s neck in a more interesting way.
And Taylor wasn’t the only one who could benefit from a no-strings-attached rebound thing. Nick had been trying to put the thing with Kelsey behind him, but he’d been doing it with women who’d seemed right yet been entirely wrong.
Maybe hooking up with a woman he knew to be trouble was the perfect antidote.
“Stay away from her,” he growled at Hunter as he poured their three drinks.
Then he bit back a curse, because it was obvious from their collective grins that he’d just done exactly as they’d planned all along.
Chapter 11
“Oh, you’re not serious,” Taylor muttered, staring at the corkscrew in her right hand, which defiantly displayed the jagged end of a cork that had snapped in half when she’d tried to remove it.
She peered down the stem of the bottle, looking at the remaining half of the cork, which was jammed stubbornly out of reach.
“Now what?” she muttered to the bottle of pinot grigio.
She knew her way around a bottle of wine, but had never had to troubleshoot one before. She needed a wine expert, she needed…
Taylor’s eyes flicked toward Nick’s room. She needed a bartender.
She tapped the corkscrew against her lips, deciding which she wanted more: the white wine or her pride.
Then Taylor had a flashback to seeing Jessica and Bradley get into a car together after work earlier that evening. The wine. She definitely wanted the wine.
Taylor marched toward Nick’s room. She knew he was home, because she’d heard the shower turn on a few minutes earlier.
Not for the first time, she was relieved that the two-bedroom condo had the rather unusual Manhattan feature of having two bathrooms. The thought of sharing a bathroom with Nick Ballantine was…unsettling.
The door was open a crack, and she tapped her nail against it before pushing it open. As far as knocks went, it was a lame one, and the second the door was open, she knew exactly what her subconscious had been hoping for.
Nick wasn’t naked, though with nothing but a dark blue towel wrapped low on his waist, he was nearly as good as.
Taylor sucked in a breath, because, well…
A-plus, Ballantine. A-freaking-plus.
He was tall with broad shoulders, and wore clothes well, but he wore naked even better.
Well, almost naked.
His upper body was perfectly sculpted, covered enticingly in dark hair that trailed all the way down his flat stomach, disappearing under the towel.
Taylor swallowed. Bradley had had a nice upper body too, but his chest had been waxed hairless. Very pretty-boy.
She’d thought she liked that, but the sight of Nick’s unapologetic masculinity had her pulse racing out of control.
He didn’t seem particularly surprised by her intrusive presence. Annoyed, but not surprised.
“Shall I turn around nice and slow?” he asked wryly. “So you can see it from all angles?”
She dragged her eyes back to his face. “Could you?” she asked sweetly, twirling her finger in a spinning motion. “I’m hoping for your sake your back’s not quite so hideous.”
He jerked open a dresser drawer and pulled out an undershirt and a pair of boxers, although he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to put them on. Fine by her.
“What do you want, Taylor?”
She held up the wine bottle.
He stared. “You’ve been practically spitting venom at me for nearly a week, and now you want to share a bottle of wine?”
“No,” she ground out. “The cork got stuck. I was hoping if I asked nicely, your bartender skills could help me access the fun juice.”
His lips moved in an almost-smile. “This is you asking nicely?”
“What if I compliment you? Would that help? Because this is all very nicely put together,” she said, waving a hand at his body. “I mean, if you like the whole manly, muscled, really fit thing, but I mean, let’s be honest, most girls don’t. So sorry.”
She was trying for their usual sarcasm, but her voice came out sort of flirtatious and flirty.
Nick must not have minded, though, because he didn’t tell her to get the hell out of his room and stop checking him out.
Instead he walked toward her, holding her gaze the entire time.
She refused to step backward, even when he got close enough that she could smell his soap and see the way his still-damp chest hair curled ever so slightly.
Taylor thrust the wine bottle against his chest so she wouldn’t be tempted to do what she really wanted to do, which was to trail her fingers and maybe her lips over his pecs, just to get a quick taste….
Nick stepped even closer, and Taylor leapt backward, yelping a little as her funny bone banged against the wall. “What are you doing?” she gasped.
He gave her a look that was half amused, half annoyed. “Getting my wine key from the kitchen. What, did you think I was going to open it with my teeth?”
Nick brushed past her, unabashed about wearing only his towel as he headed into the kitchen. She followed him, watching as he opened a drawer and pulled out a little gadget like waiters at restaurants used to open wine bottles.
“I was hoping for something a little more MacGyver,” she said, settling on a barstool. “Like a paper clip or something.”
He flicked open the corkscrew part of the tool with his thumb and glared at her. “You want the wine or not?”
She made a please continue gesture with her hand. “So. Not working today?”
“Not at the bar, no.”
She watched as he gently began working the wine key into the cork. Taylor had to admit, the little tool had a lot more finesse than her clunky corkscrew. Or maybe it just looked little because his hand was so big….
“You wrote?” she asked, forcing her attention away from his hands before her curious mind could start thinking of all the other interesting things he could do with those long fingers.
“Yup.”
“Oxford stuff or book stuff?”
His brown eyes flicked up to hers. “Little of both.”
Taylor’s gaze dropped back to his hands as he began easing the cork out of the bottle. “I found your pen name.”
“Did you?”
“Wasn’t hard.”
“Meaning you Google-stalked me.”
She shrugged. “Pretty much.”
There was a moment of silence, punctuated only by the soft pop of the cork coming out of the bottle. “You buy one?”
“Yup.” All of them.
He went to the cupboard, and she was oddly delighted when he pulled down two wineglasses instead of one.
“Read it?” he asked as he poured their wine.
Every last book.