His golden eyes searched my face, the smile falling away from his lips. “I don’t know.”
I liked that he told me the truth. I liked that he appeared as stunned by our immediate connection as I was. I liked his face. I liked the smell of the beer on his breath, the light tones of some body wash on his skin. I liked the calluses on the hand holding mine, the way it engulfed my fingers.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked and motioned his head toward the bar after the next song ended and we drew apart to clap for the band, who announced they were taking a short break.
I licked my lips again, my core squeezing as his eyes fell to my mouth to follow the movement. “I’d like that very much.”
This was a dream, I thought as I turned to find Amy and let her know where I was going. She was grinning big, two thumbs up in the air. Go, she mouthed with a wink.
Still holding my hand, he led me to the bar where he’d been sitting before, waiting until I was seated before reclaiming his stool, turning until he was facing me, his long legs brushing mine. “What do you want?”
You.
I eyed his beer. “What’s that?”
He pushed it toward me. “Mosaic Dream.”
I wrinkled my nose. “It looks hoppy.”
He laughed, a deep rumbling sound that vibrated through my chest. “It is. Want to try? It has an unusual blend of fruits. Citrus. Pineapple, maybe some mango.”
That caught my attention. “I love mangos. The taste of course, but I also love the experience of eating them. The attention to detail needed to get all the flesh from the pit. The messiness. The…” I trailed off, realizing I sounded like a true dork.
He was smiling, little crinkle lines at the corners of his eyes deepening the effect. He really was handsome. Older. In his early to middle thirties, I would guess. I turned more fully on the stool until I was facing him, my knees pressed inside his thighs, so close to his…
Very slowly, he lifted a hand in my direction, but it stopped between us in a shaking hands gesture. Automatically, I pressed my palm against his, and I realized he was about to introduce himself. “I’m—”
“Shhh,” I shushed quickly, interrupting him, and he gave me a confused look. I felt the blush creep up my cheeks and rushed to explain myself. “Forgive me if this sounds really stupid, but things like this don’t ever happen to me. It feels like a dream, and I realize I really like the fantasy feel of having you pay attention to me.”
The grin was back, curling up just one side of his mouth, transforming his handsome face into a much younger one. “Do you like fantasies?”
My insides curled. “Yes. I often find them more palatable than real life.”
He nodded, growing more serious. “I understand and can relate. I’m actually leaving tomorrow morning to escape reality for a while.”
My stomach squeezed again, but this time for a different reason. He was leaving. Better to keep this encounter in the fantasy realm then. “Leaving New York?”
He lifted his beer, took a long sip, and handed it to me. I searched his ring finger for any hint of a white line, but didn’t see one. Good. At least he wasn’t married, from what I could tell. “Leaving the States. For a year at least, maybe longer.”
The truth again. He was letting me know that he was unavailable after tonight. Or maybe it was a lie and he used the smooth line on all the women he picked up and wanted gone by morning. Searching his amber eyes, I realized I didn’t care.
I looked down at the beer and lifted it to my nose, inhaling deeply. It immediately wrinkled, and he laughed. “Told you it was hoppy. Can I get you something lighter?”
Feeling brave, I went ahead and lifted it to my lips. Took a sip. Then shivered, thrusting it back at him. It was super hoppy, but he was right, I also tasted the fruit in the background. And grass? “Yes, something lighter please, by a lot.”
My mystery stranger ordered me something that wasn’t Michelob Light, which was my normal beer choice, and I was pleasantly surprised at how pale it was. I took a sip, then another. “Much better.”
He laughed and picked up his glass. “To fantasies turning into amazing realities.”
I tapped my glass to his, my toes curling again. He was so sexual, in a raw, primal way. I was drawn to him. Comfortable with him. This was new.
I’d had boyfriends before, one for as long as a year, most as short as a few months. I had a strict five-date rule before I had sex with a guy, thinking three dates just wasn’t enough to get past the I’m on my best behavior persona. Plus, if a guy didn’t have the patience to wait, I knew he wouldn’t have the patience for other important things in my life. Things like long drives and hikes into the mountains, or spending hours forming clay bowls on my little potter’s wheel. Five dates seemed to be the magic number to determine if our interests aligned.
Until now.
He licked a bit of foam from his upper lip, and his tongue made me jealous. I wanted to do that for him, then chew on that bottom lip for a while. The man, in the span of just a few minutes, was making me feel beautiful, and that knowledge made me feel powerful. I liked the fantasy my mystery stranger had woven around me. Liked the way he looked at me. The way his hand kept reaching for mine.
“Call me Delilah.”
He raised a brow, the right side of his mouth quirking up. “Delilah, huh? Are you going to be my downfall? Shall I skip the struggle and just shave my head now?”
I laughed, enjoying the banter between us, the ease in which it was delivered. Reaching up, I flicked the dark strands back from his forehead. “I like your hair, so you can keep it. What should I call you?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Samson, of course.”
I grinned. “Is it bad that we’re using Biblical names for a hookup? Does that automatically send us to hell?”
He looked at me curiously, a high level of intelligence behind those incredible amber eyes. “Do you believe in hell?”
My grin faded as we launched into a discussion so unexpected. Wasn’t religion, or lack of it, one of the things you avoided talking about in polite company? “I don’t know. Until I’ve seen something with my own eyes, I find it difficult to believe it’s real.” I found myself growing wistful. “Although I have to admit that the idea of having a heaven filled with angelic loved ones waiting on the other side is appealing. What about you?”
He looked down into his beer again, the line on his forehead reappearing. “I feel the same, although I sometimes wonder if hell could be much worse than the horrors so many people often experience on earth.”
I nodded, thinking of the encephalitis baby from earlier today, born with a seriously misshapen head. How the parents mourned the little one, kissing him as if he was the most beautiful child ever born.
“Why so sad?”
I blinked at Samson, and just thinking of his name made me smile. “Sorry, just had a difficult day at work.”
Curiosity sparked in his gaze again. “What do you do?”