“Faith.”
Sam’s deep voice washed over her skin and nestled into her memory bank for later when she was alone in her bed, thinking about him. She hated that, too. Why, oh, why, did he have to be a player? Couldn’t he be like his brothers Cole and Nate? Loyal to the end of time?
He touched her arm, burning her skin.
“Oh. Hi, Sam.” That sounded casual, right? He was so big, standing this close, and he smelled like man and sunshine and heat all wrapped up in one big delicious package.
Great. Now I’m thinking of your package.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked.
Yes. No! Stick to your boring-man rule, Faith.
Sam was anything but boring, taking every outdoor risk known to man and out carousing every night of the week. Nope, she wanted no part of that.
“No, thanks.” She sipped her drink, wishing it were tequila instead of Jack and Coke. Wishing she were home instead of standing beside the human heat wave.
His brows knitted. “You sure? I haven’t seen you on the dance floor all night.”
“Have you run out of girls already?” Holy Jesus, did I say that out loud?
An easy smile spread across his face, like he wasn’t offended, but…amused? He looked around the room and said, “No, actually. There are a few I haven’t danced with.” Those chocolate eyes focused on her again. “But I want to dance with you.”
She downed her drink to keep the word Okay from slipping out and set the empty glass on the bar. “Thanks, but I’m actually getting ready to leave.”
“Now, that would be a shame.” His eyes dragged slowly down her body, making her feel vulnerable and naked.
Naked with Sam Braden. Her entire body flamed, and he must have noticed, because his eyes turned midnight black.
“You look incredibly beautiful tonight, and it’s Cole and Leesa’s big day. You should stick around.” He leaned in a little closer. “And dance with me.”
It wasn’t like her jelly legs could carry her out of there anyway. Incredibly beautiful? Faith had been told she was pretty often enough to believe it, but incredibly beautiful? That was pushing it. That was smooth-talking Sam, the limit pusher.
She had to admit, he had this pickup thing down pat. His eyes were solely focused on her, while she felt the gaze of nearly every single woman in the place on her like they wondered what she had that they didn’t—or maybe like they wanted to kill her. Yup. That was probably more accurate.
“The wedding was lovely,” she managed. “I’m happy for Cole and Leesa, but I’m hosting a car wash at Harbor Park tomorrow afternoon. I should really get going so I have time to prepare.”
Sam stepped closer. His fingers caressed the back of her arm, sending shivers of heat straight to her brain—and short-circuiting it.
“Harbor Park?” The right side of his tempting mouth lifted in a teasing smile. “Surely you won’t turn into a pumpkin this early. You can’t leave without giving me one dance. Come on. Think of how happy it’ll make Cole to see you enjoying yourself.”
He was obviously not going to give up. Maybe she should just give in and dance with him. She had no desire to be another in the long line of Sam’s conquests, but it was just one dance, and then she could leave, and he’d go back to any of the other women there. That idea sank like a rock in her stomach.
Her stupid hormones swam to the surface again. You did ask nicely. Maybe she was reading too much into this dance. It was just a dance, not a date.
But his eyes were boring into her in that I want to get into your panties way he had. She’d seen him give that look to several other women tonight.
Several. Other. Women.
Ugh! Why was she even considering this?
It was his hand, moving up and down her arm, making her shivery and hot at once. And those eyes, drawing her in, making her feel important. She wasn’t important to Sam. She knew that in her smart physician assistant brain, but her ovaries had some sort of hold on that part of her brain, crushing her smart cells.
Faith glanced at the dance floor and caught sight of Cole whispering something in Leesa’s ear. They were such a handsome couple, and Cole was such a kind boss. Maybe she should stay a little longer. She didn’t have to dance with Sam. She could just talk with him until he got bored and moved on.
Cole’s eyes turned serious, and Leesa looked over, too. He said something to her and headed in their direction with a scowl on his face and an angry bead aimed at Sam. Shit. This was not good. He was her boss.
Oh my God. What was she thinking? She shouldn’t dance with her boss’s brother!
“Actually…” Panic bloomed inside her chest as Cole neared. Cole respected her, but she knew he’d noticed the way she got flustered around Sam. He’d seen her turn beet-red with Sam’s compliments when Sam visited him at the office. She didn’t need him seeing her all swoony-eyed over him now.
“I really have to go, but thanks for asking, Sam.” She spun on her heel and hurried away before she could lose her nerve.
End of sneak peek
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TRU BLUE
Chapter One
TRUMAN GRITT LOCKED the door to Whiskey Automotive and stepped into the stormy September night. Sheets of rain blurred his vision, instantly drenching his jeans and T-shirt. A slow smile crept across his face as he tipped his chin up, soaking in the shower of freedom. He made his way around the dark building and climbed the wooden stairs to the deck outside his apartment. He could have used the interior door, but after being behind bars for six long years, Truman took advantage of the small pleasures he’d missed out on, like determining his own schedule, deciding when to eat and drink, and standing in the fucking rain if he wanted to. He leaned on the rough wooden railing, ignoring the splinters piercing his tattooed forearms, squinted against the wetness, and scanned the cars in the junkyard they used for parts—and he used to rid himself of frustrations. He rested his leather boot on the metal box where he kept his painting supplies. Truman didn’t have much—his old extended-cab truck, which his friend Bear Whiskey had held on to for him while he was in prison, this apartment, and a solid job, both of which were compliments of the Whiskey family. The only family he had anymore.
Emotions he didn’t want to deal with burned in his gut, causing his chest to constrict. He turned to go inside, hoping to outrun thoughts of his own fucked-up family, whom he’d tried—and failed—to save. His cell phone rang with his brother’s ringtone, “A Beautiful Lie” by 30 Seconds to Mars.