by Gina Sturino
“Hi,” I murmured back.
Pete either didn’t notice the strange tension, or he chose to ignore it. He looked at his watch. “I need to get to another appointment. It was really great meeting you.” He hesitated, placing his palms flat on the table. “I’ll be in Milwaukee a lot over the next few months. Since you fired me before I could start, I don’t think there’d be an attorney-client conflict of interest if we grabbed dinner sometime?”
An image flashed—the luggage, my arms and leg wrapped around it, the empty side of the bed that greeted me every morning. I was due some fun, and Pete seemed sweet, our conversation easy.
And, unlike Dane, I hadn’t made a complete fool of myself in front of Pete. Twice.
“Sure.” I smiled.
Maybe it was my imagination, but Dane’s fingers seemed to jab louder against his keyboard, punching keys deliberately.
“Great, I look forward to it.” Pete stood up and pushed in his chair. “I have to run. I’ll call you.”
I sat still for a moment after he left, considering what to say to Dane.
“He seems nice.” Dane broke the awkward silence.
“Yeah. You’re working?”
“I don’t have internet set up for my home office yet. Getting some things in order for next week.” Dane eyed me. “You look nice.”
I patted at my hair, instantly self-conscious by his sentiment. “Thanks.”
“You must be feeling better?”
I nodded in response.
“How were the cookies?” His blue eyes and deep voice softened.
“Fantastic,” I divulged, “even without the vanilla extract.”
Dane nodded. “It’s my magic mixing hands.” He wiggled his fingers, then hovered them back over the keyboard. “Hey, I’m meeting a prospect tonight. I suggested Winetopia. Thanks for the recommendation.”
“I thought you hadn’t started with work yet?”
“The guy’s here from Green Bay, owns a few sports bars up there and can meet tonight.” Dane shrugged. “My new boss is itching to get stuff started around here, so I can’t say no to a prospect. Or to a few drinks.” He paused with thought. “Do you want to come with?”
“To your work meeting?”
“It’ll be low key, just a few cocktails. He’s here with some guys going to the baseball game tomorrow.” Dane shrugged again.
My thoughts flashed to the black cocktail dress hanging in my closet, still baring its four-hundred-dollar price tag. I bought it when Beck and I were still a thing, saving it for a hot date. My ex-boyfriend, Beckman Allen Lindon IV, was the cocky, pompous lawyer-type I always seemed to attract.
But this isn’t a date. And Beck is definitely not Dane.
From the look on Dane’s face, I was certain the hesitation showed on mine.
“Being new to the area, it’ll give me a little boost to have a local with me. Wisconsin and Illinois are my territory, but I hardly know my way from here to home. Be a friend?”
I found myself nodding. “Okay, what time?” Beck never deserved that dress anyway.
“I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Pick me up? You plan to drive here?” I pointed to the wall Winetopia shared with Dark Beans. “It’s less than a two block walk from home.” The idea of getting into a car sent a shiver down my spine.
“Figure of speech, Nov.” Dane laughed. I warmed by his use of a nickname; it felt intimate, as if we’d been friends for longer than a few days. “I’ll knock on your door at seven.”
As I departed Dark Beans, crossing the city street on the short walk home, I mused at how quickly life changed in a week.
I’d nearly died, quit my job, and now had two hot dates lined up.
Seven
The time read 6:58 p.m. My foot impatiently tapped against the stool as I stared at the empty wineglass that sat on the kitchen countertop, waiting for Dane’s knock at my door. I debated pouring more, just a half glass to calm my nerves, but then the expected rap came. Seven on the dot. I knew he’d be punctual.
“It’s open,” I called, sliding from the stool. The thin heels of my four-inch stilettos sank into the carpet.
“Hey, hi,” Dane greeted. He stopped under the doorframe, filling it with his broad shoulders. His jaw twitched. “Wow.”
I’d gone all out, summoning the old Nova and all her magic make-up and styling skills. Using a big-barreled curling iron to create smooth ringlets, my hair swept over my brow, hiding the gash. Smokey pencil lined my eyes, and two coats of mascara thickened my lashes. I looked nothing like the girl Dane had come to know over the last few days. I looked like the old me—sophisticated, smart, assured.
Dane continued to stare at me. Maybe I’d overdone it. Maybe the red lipstick was a bit much. It was a work meet-up for Dane after all.
The appraising glint in his eyes said otherwise. His gaze traveled from my face to the sleeveless dress that highlighted my toned arms. It had a scoop neck and flirty hem. I dressed it up with silver cuff bracelets and long earrings that almost brushed my shoulders. The bracelets clinked against one another when I reached for the shiny patent leather clutch on the counter.
“Hi to you too.” I smiled, noting the dark trousers and black button-down shirt Dane wore. He looked professional while keeping his edge.
Dane remained at the door. The intensity of his stare brought heat to my cheeks. We stood silently assessing one another until I made the first move, walking the few steps to his side. I looked up.
“Ready?” My voice came out low, husky.
He gave a nod, then cocked his head to the side, continuing to study me as his hand lifted deliberately, brushing a blond lock over my shoulder. His jaw dropped, as if he were going to say something. Instead, he turned and led the way out.
The two-block walk to Winetopia was made in silence, except for the clink of my heels on the concrete. Dane walked beside me, glancing my way every so often but not speaking.
Loud music and an energetic vibe pulsed from the lounge as we entered. Winetopia attracted the young professionals in the area, the place to see and be seen. As we neared the bar, two patrons slid from their stools, offering us a place to sit. I glanced at Dane—seats at Winetopia on a Friday night were beyond impossible to secure—but he guided me to the bar without reservation or question, and then turned, asking what I’d like.
“Should we find your client first?” I asked.
“They’ll be here at eight, I figured we’d come early to scope out a seat.”
“Oh, okay. There’s probably more space downstairs.” Cushy booths and velvet sofas filled the lower level, along with a second bar that turned into a club after happy hour. I scanned the cocktail menu. “I’ll have a gin and tonic.”
Dane ordered my drink along with a beer for himself. As we waited for them to arrive, he twisted in his seat to face me.
“You’re stunning,” he said in a low voice.
“Thanks.” I blushed, averting my eyes to the counter. I couldn’t think of a time when a compliment had such a stomach-dropping effect. Certainly nothing like this from Beck.
After the bartender delivered our drinks, Dane closed our tab, then suggested we check out the lower level. He extended his hand, settling it under my elbow to help me from the stool, just as long, painted fingernails tapped his arm.
“Dane!” a whiney voice exclaimed. The garish nails now dug into his bicep.
Dane glanced to the hand, then to the face, his irritation obvious. “Hey, Lori.”
“I wondered when I’d see you again—” She stopped, eyeing me. “Oh-kay.” Lori shot accusatory dagger eyes, first to Dane, then to me. Her lip turned up as she squinted, looking squarely at me. “I see. Have fun with him. He’s great.” The voice was sugary, the implication was loud. She spun and pranced away on sky-high heels.
“Oh, she seems nice.” Sarcasm danced in my voice as I slung the same line Dane had used about Pete. Maybe I sounded like a jealous teenager, but I couldn’t help it.
Dane shook his head, brushing off the awkward moment. “She’s in liquor distribution too. Well, shall we?” His hand returned to my elbow and firmly guided me from the stool.
We made our way to the wide staircase at the far end of the bar, and I caught Lori glaring at us. I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at her, but did flash a snarky smile. So much for sophisticated, smart, and assured.
The lower level, known as Tangerine, was decorated in various shades of orange with splashes of white. Lounge music lulled in the background, and the bar bustled with the Friday night happy-hour crowd.
We claimed a vacant booth in the corner. I slipped in, careful to hold the hem of my short dress as I scooted over the white leather cushion. Dane finished shooting a text on his cell before joining me.
“Tom just cancelled,” he explained, holding up the phone. “I appreciate you coming out tonight, but it looks like it was for nothing.”
“No, it feels good getting dressed up. I feel… like my old self.” I sipped my cocktail.
“Well, I don’t know the old you, but I sure like the new you.” He leaned in closer. I caught his scent—beer mixed with cologne, the sort of manly scent that makes a woman’s heart race.
Everything about Dane screamed man. His large frame, strong muscles, broad shoulders. The dark lashes that lined bright, mischievous eyes. The thick crop of black hair that fell over his brow, and the haphazard way he always brushed it off.
The dark attire and salty attitude added an edge of danger. And the tattoo. I still didn’t know what it was.
“What’s your tattoo?” The words slipped out, and Dane looked at me with surprise. “I only saw the tip,” I explained sheepishly.
“Oh.” He glanced to his bicep. “I have a few. I can show you later.”
“Or maybe I can ask Lori,” I teased back, enjoying the shock in his eyes. When was the last time I’d flirted? I’d forgotten how much fun it was.
“What about you? Wait—I can answer that—you don’t have any, do you?” Dane’s eyes traveled along my bare arm.
“Actually, I do.” I smiled sweetly. The wine from earlier, along with the added gin, emboldened me. “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.”
Dane’s black pupils darkened, leaving only a small ring of blue.
The cocktail waitress took that inopportune moment to interrupt, asking if we’d like another round. I shook my empty glass, mumbling, “Yes, same please. Gin and tonic.”
Dane relayed our order and as the girl walked away, he slowly exhaled, breathing out my name. “Nova.” It rolled gently, almost regretfully, from his lips. He leaned back.
I leaned back too, biting my lower lip. The lounge had filled up. People now crowded around the booths, and the vibe changed. Club music replaced the chill tunes from earlier. Our second round arrived, along with shots of tequila.
“From the party over there.” The waitress jerked her chin toward a group at the bar. “They bought a round.”
“Tequila. Well, that’s generous of them.” Dane’s eyebrows shot up. “I’ll have to see if it’s as good as my stuff.”
I eyed the shot. Tequila was bad news.
“You ready for this?” Dane asked, lifting the shot glass.
I hesitated, then picked mine up, and tilted the glass toward Dane. “Cheers.”
Lifting it to my lips, I tipped it back. The liquor flowed straight down my throat, and I shivered as it stung my nostrils.
“I was going to get us salt and lime, but that’s impressive.” Dane chuckled, then followed suit, emptying his glass in a fluid gulp. He shook his head. “Woo, that burns.”
“Woo,” I repeated, then laughed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had tequila.” The liquor warmed everything, from my cheeks to my toes.
I had to slow down. I’d just gotten rid of the migraine; I didn’t need a hangover.
Even with the warning ringing in my head, I downed my drink. Caught up in our conversation, I hadn’t objected when Dane ordered yet another round.
“Think the tequila’s gone right to my head,” I stuttered, pushing away the cocktail that appeared before me.
“You okay? We shouldn’t have had those shots.” Concern flickered over his face.
“I’m fine.” I smiled. “But I think I’ve had enough. Do you want this? I’d hate for it to go to waste.”
“I’d hate that even more.” He laughed, sliding the lowball glass in front of himself.
Maybe it was the alcohol or the pulsing vibe, but an energy flowed in my veins, humming along to the music. I felt more alive than ever.
Dane finished his drink just as the cocktail waitress returned to our table. Without even asking for the tab, he handed over a wad of cash. “I think we’re set, thanks.”
Unpeeling the bills, her eyes lit up as she walked away. Whatever amount he’d given her must have included a hefty tip.
“Ready?” Extending his hand, Dane helped me to my feet. The crowd from the promotion party had moved to the dance floor, bumping and singing with the music. As we twisted through the throng, I tugged at Dane’s hand.
“It’s also been a long time since I’ve danced.” I grinned, looking to him from under my eyelashes. And then I batted them, like a teenager.
“I’m not sure you can handle my moves.” Dane laughed and pulled me into him. He gripped my hand, then spun me out and away before reeling me back into his hold. Taught arms held me for a second before casting me out again. He moved his right foot in a smooth motion, sliding toward the dance floor, sweeping me along with him.
His hold on my hand tightened as he drew me back in again, and I fell against him laughing. My flushed face turned toward his, and my giggles subsided as he leaned in. Soft, full lips brushed over mine.
The surrounding noises blurred to nothing, and it was just Dane and me under our own spotlight. The only two on the dance floor. His arms surrounded me, but I wanted more. The small space between us felt like an ocean instead of inches.
The warmth of his breath stroked my cheek as he whispered, “I know we shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself.” His hand rolled from my lower back to the nape of my neck, and he pulled my face closer. Our mouths met again. His tongue slipped over my lower lip.
The tempo changed, and his mouth moved deliberately, taking in my taste and exploring my lips. My body simmered from the little strokes of his tongue and the tug of his hands at my hair. I felt the heat and hardness of his body as he pulled me closer.
Another dancer knocked into me, hurling us back to reality.
Pop music percolated from the speakers, yet we remained slowly swaying. Amazed, surprised, shaken. A simple kiss that had taken us off the dance floor.
“Let’s get out of here.” Dane’s voice was so low it sounded like a growl. He pulled me through the crowd and up the stairs. My heels clicked against the wooden steps as I struggled to keep up.
It wasn’t until we were at the corner of Ogden and Van Buren that Dane stopped, and only because the pedestrian crosswalk signal wasn’t in our favor. He looked down, pulling me again into his arms. This time there was no gentleness, no hovering or lingering, just pure desire as his mouth covered mine. His hands cupped each side of my face, and he held steady, drinking life from my lips until I was left breathless from his kiss.
A kiss I’d waited my entire life for.
When he pulled away, I took obvious breaths. My lungs heaved within my ribcage. He watched my chest rise and fall, then his blue eyes were back on mine. I blinked dazedly, drunk from the stormy look of desire that hardened his already sharp features.
Dane took my hand as we crossed the street, but he left a deliberate space, keeping a step ahead of me.
I didn’t try to decipher the slight shaking of his head, as if he was saying no within the confines of his mind until we were under the security light at the back door of our complex. He slid his fob over the panel, ushered me in, then followed me past the rear stairwell. Instead of joining me in the inti
mate space of the elevator, he remained planted in the hall.
“I can’t… I’m sorry, Nova. We shouldn’t—” Dane’s head continued to shake as the elevator door closed, cutting my view of his regretful eyes.
Eight
The next morning started with a blinding headache. I rolled from bed, pinching the bridge of my nose as I fumbled for the bottle of Tylenol on my nightstand. The child lock cap put up a good fight before twisting off. The last two pills fell into my clammy hands. I usually had a bottle of water next to my bed, but luck wasn’t on my side that morning.
Dropping the pills onto the nightstand, I groaned. Sunlight from the arched window above the patio door amplified the pounding pain at my temples, and I resisted the urge to kick the stupid suitcase that continued to mock me. Mad at myself for drinking too much. And, mad at myself for whatever had happened with Dane.
I couldn’t piece it together. What went wrong?
The chemistry. The kiss. That was right.
A kiss I’d waited my entire life for.
A buzzing noise erupted from my phone, which I had left on the kitchen counter the night before. After the disastrous ending to my evening with Dane, I’d crawled into bed still garbed in my cocktail dress.
Now, I peeled it off and kicked it to the floor, shaking my head as memories of Dane’s remorseful eyes pounded at my temples. I slipped into shorts and a T-shirt, then headed into the bathroom to wash the smeared makeup from my face. A few splashes of cold water did nothing to calm my head, but at least I no longer looked like a deranged raccoon.
I grabbed the two pain killers on my way downstairs. Stopping at the kitchen faucet, I popped the horse pills into my mouth. A chalky taste bittered my tongue as I slurped tepid water directly from the stream. Droplets fell from my chin, and I didn’t even bother to swipe them away.