Sweet Sinful Nights

Travis laughed, talking above the loud music. “Why do you even care if I make a move?”

Smith clutched his chest. “Because it pains me to see a man ogling a woman like that and doing nothing about it.”

“Who said I was going to do nothing about it? Maybe I just don’t feel like telling you about all the plans I have up here,” Travis said, tapping his skull, even though his friend was right—he hadn’t been planning on doing a damn thing about Cara. “Plans that would make your betting pool obsolete.”

He was bluffing, but he couldn’t deny that Smith was onto something. Hell, it pained him, too, not to do a damn thing about this rampant attraction that wound him up like a coiled spring. His focus briefly wandered to the bar where Cara had joined Jamie in a round of shots. Somewhere out on the dance floor, Travis’s sister, Megan, was snug up against the fire chief, Becker, while a bunch of their other buddies had grabbed a table in the back. They’d all rented a few limos for the night, riding from Hidden Oaks down to the city so they could fully enjoy the celebration.

Smith shrugged and took a drink of his beer. “My money’s on: you’re too much of a * to do it.”

Travis scoffed, his eyebrows shooting into his hairline. “One, I’m not too much of a * to make a move on her. Two, why do people use * as an insult? I never understood that. Pussy is fucking awesome. It’s pretty much the greatest thing in the world. And three, you know she’s not interested in a guy like me.”

Smith nodded several times and flubbed his lips, as if Travis had just revealed the secrets of the universe. “Yeah, you’re right. She probably likes men who actually have the guts to go for her instead of just staring at her wistfully while she’s on the dance floor.”

Travis rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant. I would never stare at a woman wistfully. When I stare, it’s hungrily,” he said, as he deflected the conversation from the real reason he hadn’t acted on his desire for her. Cara was great—she was fun, and sharp, and he’d enjoyed every second of the summer they’d spent together back when they were younger. He could still recall how fiery she’d been between the sheets. But now that they were no longer two horny teenagers screwing in the back of his truck, or two recent college grads reconnecting for one hot night, she didn’t have any interest in guys who didn’t like settling down. A volunteer firefighter and a professional card player, Travis was not a settler-downer. Hell, he had his sights set on winning the California Bachelor Fireman’s Auction in a few weeks—the key word being bachelor. So as much as he wanted to have the woman in red again, he was all wrong for her. Even though he wanted her badly.

*

“Time for another round!”

Jamie grabbed Cara’s arm and practically yanked her off the dance floor. Cara nearly stumbled in her heels from the surprise attack her friend had launched on her elbow.

“Hey! I like that arm. I want to keep it,” she said as they made their way to the bar.

“It is indeed a very nice arm. Shapely and toned,” Jamie said, patting Cara’s bare flesh as they reached the chrome and steel bar at Edge, a nightclub owned by one of Travis’s friends.

“So you can see why I’m attached to it,” she said, and then her eyes widened as the soon-to-be-bride gestured to a tray with shot glasses and a gorgeous crystal martini glass with a purple concoction.

Cara pointed to the fancy cocktail. “Purple Snow Globe?”

Jamie nodded. “Pick your poison. I ordered a bunch of drinks.”

There was no question in her mind. She’d gladly take the sweet, sugary, award-winning cocktail over the burn of a tequila shot anytime. She picked up the drink and clinked glasses with Jamie. “To your wedding.”

“I will happily drink to the end of my single days,” Jamie said, quickly downing the amber liquid. “Speaking of single days, what are we going to do about you and Travis and the way you two were staring at each other on the dance floor?”

Cara’s jaw dropped. “What?”

Holy shit. Had everyone noticed? She thought she’d done a bang-up job sealing away her desire in a Ziploc bag and stuffing it in the back of the freezer. Evidently, she had not. She slapped on her best cool-and-composed look, took a leisurely swallow of her drink, then said, “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on,” Jamie said, rolling her pretty brown eyes. “The two of you are still checking each other out like you did in high school.”

God, it had been so long, and even though she and Travis had flickered back into each other’s lives once or twice since, they were never in the same place at the same time for long enough to matter. That hadn’t stopped her from wanting him, though.