“Explain that.”
She rakes the silky strands of her hair off her forehead. “This girl, Z?e, asked me to stop by a bar and I . . .” It’s hard to focus on what she’s saying with her lips covered in a pink gloss that makes them look like the sweetest candy. “It’s a long story.”
I cross my arms at my chest. She doesn’t owe me shit, but I’m a selfish bastard and I want to know why going to a bar is making her so edgy. “I got time.”
“Z?e asked me to meet her at a bar, but I don’t know which bar she’s talking about and I could ask Brice, but I’m afraid he’ll think he can come with me and to be honest with you I’d rather not go with Brice, or I’d rather not go at all, but I told her I would and if I don’t then . . . then . . .”
“Shh . . . You’re gonna hyperventilate.” I’m half teasing, but the way her hands are bunched at her sides makes me think it might not be far from the truth.
She blows out a long breath and shakes out her arms. “I know.”
“Are you always this high strung?”
“Do you always feel it’s important to point out my flaws?”
“Why do you care if I point out your flaws?”
“Why do you care about where I’m going?”
“I think we could go on for hours like this.”
A tiny smirk hits her lips. “You’re probably right.”
“The bar she’s talking about is probably Lenny’s. She works there.”
“Oh . . .” She chews her bottom lip and a jealous urge to rip that lip from her teeth and pull it between mine tugs at me. “Do you know where it is?”
I do, but if I tell her she’ll go, and looking like that I’d rather she stay home, preferably with me.
“I mean, do you, would you want to, if you’re not busy, can you come with me?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Lenny, the owner, never officially told me I wasn’t welcome in his bar again, but the look he gave me that night I was arrested outside of his place about ten seconds after he fired me made it pretty clear he never wanted to see my face again. Not that I blame him.
“Why isn’t it a good idea?”
I shrug and try to act casual. “When I first moved here Z?e got me a job bouncing there on weekends.”
Her eyes narrow. “You and Z?e, did you guys . . .?”
“No.” Okay, almost once but I was too drunk to make that night fun for either of us. Not that Celia needs to know about that.
“So what happened? Why don’t you work there now?”
“Nothing to tell, just didn’t work out.” Lie, lie, lie.
“Oh, well, I don’t see why you can’t come with me, then.”
“Freckles—”
“Pleeeeaaase. . . .?” She puffs out that fat bottom lip and my blood howls in my veins to drag her back to my boat caveman-style.
I step close to her so that we’re almost touching. “Kiss me and I’ll go.” Yep, I said it, and I meant it. I’d face Lenny and all his bullshit if it means I get at those lips.
Her jaw drops open, and not at all in a bad way. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m dead serious.” I run my hands through her hair at her nape and my thumb along her jaw. “Thought about you all day.”
“You did?” she whispers, and her breath ghosts across my lips in a brutal tease.
“Mmm.” I pull her close until she reaches for me by pushing up on her toes. “You come the rest of the way, I’ll go to Lenny’s.” I’m a lying dick, I’d go anyway just for a chance to spend some time with this woman who keeps managing to totally fuck with my head.
She licks her lips and I’m amped with the anticipation of tasting her tongue again. In what feels like slow motion she presses the softest close-mouthed kiss to my lips. I clasp her hip and pull her body flush with mine, her breasts mold to my chest, and being on her toes she stumbles into me, giving me her weight.
Fucking perfect.
My arms hold her tight as I tilt my head and coax open her mouth. She hums low in her throat while letting me in, the sweet flavor of her lips and gentle friction from her gloss have me growling in response. When was the last time I’ve been this turned on by something so benign? Maybe it’s because I’m sober. Booze dulls everything and if this is what hooking up sober feels like, fuck, I’ve been missing out.
She relaxes into my grasp and the simple act makes me feel something I haven’t felt in a long time. Strong. Powerful. As if there’s nothing I can’t conquer, and I haven’t had that since the day I led my battalion on the last mission of our deployment. The one last op before we all got to come home.
But only half of us made it.
A flash of gunfire lights behind my closed lids and I jolt back, breaking our connection.
She’s breathless, her eyes still closed, not affected by my brief freak-out. She slowly blinks up at me. “Do you kiss all women like that?”
My lips twitch. “Only know one way to kiss.” But somehow kissing her feels different. Better in a way I can’t put my finger on.
“So you’ll go with me?”
“Yeah. I’ll even take you to dinner first.”
“A date?” Her smile is so big it stretches across her perfect face.
“A date.”
“I’ll just grab my purse.” She steps back and stumbles over a patch of ice plant.
I put my arm around her waist hoping our kiss is the cause of her lack of balance. “I’ll go with you.” Judging by her blush I think it might be.
I guide her to her place and once inside my stomach hardens. The main living space is littered with boxes and stacks of her things, a reminder that she’ll be moving soon.
“It’s in the bedroom. I’ll be right back.” She’s steadier on her feet as she goes to get her purse. I set down my tool belt and move around the room.
Stacks of books, tons of little junky figurines I’m guessing to be from all reaches of the world, are piled around along with packing paper. It doesn’t seem like she’s been working on any of this for very long, as all the boxes are still empty.
“I’m ready.” She smiles with a fresh coat of lip gloss that I can’t wait to wear all over my neck.
Down, boy! There will be plenty of time for making out later.
“I’m driving.”
As we’re walking to my Blazer I fight the urge to pull her hand into mine, because seriously, what the fuck is that all about? I’m not the hand-holding type, but with Celia I can’t seem to get her close enough when we’re together.
NINE
SAWYER
I was on the verge of an anxiety attack when I’d finished getting ready to go out tonight. I’d flipped that stupid coin like I promised my sister I would, and of course it determined I would go out to the bar tonight. After tossing around all the clothes I brought to San Diego searching for the right thing to wear, I succumbed to picking through Cece’s closet.
Tight jeans, a loose-fitting and still insanely flattering tank, and I left my hair wavy the way Cece wore hers. I felt pretty good when I was swiping on makeup heavier than I usually wear, but it wasn’t until I stepped in front of that mirror that I saw it.
It wasn’t Sawyer staring back at me.
It was my sister.