by Zoe York
Tonight wasn’t about business, but he couldn’t turn it off even if he wanted to. And he never wanted to.
He also couldn’t turn off his awareness of being checked out—not that he wanted to. He stopped his slow pivot when he caught the curious and interested gaze of the man ahead of him in line. Tall, blond, lean muscles. Definitely Evan’s type.
But tonight he was all Jess’s, so he put on his mask and gave the man a brusque nod. The man turned pink, like he was embarrassed to have been caught with his cock out. Maybe he was in the closet. Buddy was going to have to work on his chill factor if he wanted to get anywhere with anyone, but that wasn’t Evan’s problem.
Except the pink cheeks were kind of cute.
For a split second, he considered leaning in and murmuring something to mollify the stranger. Or making up a business reason to exchange cards, but then a second bartender arrived and the line surged forward.
“I’ll have a gin and tonic,” the stranger said.
“Two glasses of white,” Evan said at the same time, to the other bartender.
“Sauvignon Blanc or the Pinot Grigio?”
Evan flicked his gaze over both bottles. He grinned. “The Go West Sauvignon Blanc, please.”
“Popular choice,” the bartender remarked.
“They had good grapes that year.” They had good grapes every year, thanks to his brother Ty’s hard work.
By the time he paid for their drinks, the gin and tonic guy was gone. Evan circled around the crowd, finding Jess close to the entrance to the ballroom, in conversation with a Black woman and a white man.
He caught her eye, and she waved him over. “Evan,” she said as he approached. “Do you know Kate and Luke?” She kept going, smoothly introducing him to the duo, who were both in leadership positions with the city’s fairgrounds. Luke wasn’t impressed, but Kate’s eyes lit up when Jess explained who Evan was.
“We’d love to do an event with Go West Winery,” she said.
“I think we send a team to your Food and Wine show.” He smiled. “It’s always a great show.”
He wasn’t sure about that, but it didn’t matter. Event management was a tough job, and a necessary set of allies to have in the wine business. And he knew Beth would kick him in the shin if he missed an opportunity to get an exclusive event partnership.
Not that he would. He had his card out at the same time as Kate pulled hers. They both chuckled.
Then Kate won him over completely by leaning in and whispering, “You just missed Jess playing hardball with Luke.”
Luke protested.
Jess grinned. “It’s true. But he was playing lowball with me, so it’s only fair. He knows what I’m worth, and what marketing experience I bring to the table. So yeah, I played hardball. The hardest.”
Evan made a low sound of approval. “As you should.”
“We’ll leave you two lovebirds alone,” Kate said, wiggling her fingers as they moved away. “And don’t worry, Jess,” she called out over her shoulder. “Luke will have the right offer in your inbox on Monday!”
His date giggled as she took the glass of white wine he handed her. “Wow, that was successful on multiple levels.” Her eyes danced as she leaned in. “Don’t look now, but my ex is behind you, six o’clock, and I’m pretty sure he just heard that.”
Evan held out his own glass. “Cheers.” They clinked, and then he took a long, slow taste.
And it was a good thing that he swallowed it before he turned around, because when he finally checked out Jess’s husband, it was none other than Mr. Gin and Tonic.
Evan’s throat tightened up.
“Shall we go in?” Jess asked, her voice still dancing like she was on cloud nine.
Fluid as ever, he nodded. He wouldn’t let on that he had any other reference for her husband—ex-husband, he reminded himself. And for every good reason.
However he chose to identify, Jess’s ex liked men.
And Evan had a sinking feeling she had no idea.
6
After they went in and found their table, Jess didn’t see Brent again until dessert was served and the mayor stood to acknowledge the community members and first responders being recognized for their exceptional acts of service.
When it was Brent’s turn to receive his award, he approached the dais swiftly and shook the mayor’s hand, took the obligatory photographs, but declined the opportunity to speak.
And then he was gone.
She didn’t see him again all evening, or at least for as long as they stayed. By ten, she’d shaken all the hands she could, done all the sweet talking she needed to, and frankly, she was done.
“You ready to get out of here?” Evan asked, reading her mind.
She nodded, and he slid his hand over the small of her back in that delicious, claiming way she was going to fantasize about later.
On the drive to her house, she convinced herself she would say goodbye—to Evan, his cologne, and the gorgeous car—in her laneway.
But as soon as he parked, he was out of the car and around to her side, opening her door for her.
And he took her hand and led her to the door.
It was, without a doubt, romantic. Or chivalrous. Which were the same thing, were they not? Also, there was nobody around for Evan to impress any longer.
“Thank you for being my date tonight,” she said softly as she dug her keys out of her purse.
“It was my pleasure.”
“It didn’t go exactly as I expected,” she confessed.
He smiled down at her, the light from her foyer catching his profile perfectly. “Do you want to talk about that?”
“Uh…” She hesitated. That was clearly an opening for her to invite him in, right? She didn’t want to take up more of his time than she already had, but if he was offering to talk, she wasn’t going to say no. “Sure. If you aren’t in a hurry.”
“I got a hotel room for the night. And it’s still early. I’m all yours—I’m grateful for your help, Jess. We all are. Liam thinks the world of you.”
Right. The town. She nodded. “Sure, come on in.” She unlocked the door. “Would you like a drink? Tea, coffee—” Me? No, that was definitely not the ending to that sentence. “Whiskey, or wine?”
“Would you have a glass of wine?”
She pushed the door open and winked at him. “I’d drink the bottle, unless you wanted some of it.”
“Then wine sounds great.”
She didn’t have any Go West wine, but whipping out a bottle of his own stuff would be too obvious anyway. She had a California white in the fridge, though, and he nodded approvingly at the label when she showed it to him.
After pouring two glasses, she led him to the living room, where they sank onto the same couch side by side. Evan loosened his tie, and she kicked off her heels.
At first, they just sat there in silence, drinking their wine.
“This is nice,” he said.
“It had good reviews,” she said, tipping her glass to the side. “I like it.”
“I meant the company,” he added dryly. “But the wine is good.”
“Ah.” She felt herself pink a little in the cheeks. “As is the company from my perspective as well.”
“So how was it different than you expected tonight?” he asked. “Did it go better? Or worse?”
“Just different.” She sighed. “I thought I wanted to show Brent I’d moved on.”
“And in actuality?”
“I think I was using you as a shield in case it was too hard to see him, period. And it wasn’t. If anything, I felt kind of bad for bringing a date when he was alone. That’s messed up, right? After a year?”
Evan wasn’t going to tell her she was messed up. For God’s sake, she was human, that was all. And clearly still in love with her ex.
“You’re not going to answer, are you?” She leaned in and poked him gently, her finger lingering on his arm before she pulled away. The proximity gave him a chance to breathe in the scent of her, li
ght and floral mixed with warm and womanly beneath that. “I guess only I can answer that question.”
“There you go.”
“But sometimes we’re not the best judge of ourselves, you know? It’s hard to be objective.”
“On the other hand, as an outside observer I’m going to miss a lot of subtext.”
“Such as?”
“You’re awfully nice to him.”
She looked surprised. “Really?”
“You feel bad about dating someone in front of him after a year?”
“It’s complicated.”
“You said that before.”
She worried her bottom lip, and he was tempted to rub his thumb against it.
“Feel free to tell me to go fuck myself, but…have you moved on?”
She didn’t tell him off. Instead, she thought about for a moment. “I’m trying. I know it is time to move on, if that counts as progress.”
Evan was in dangerous territory. It was none of his business if she’d moved on.
And yet that didn’t stop him from delving deeper.
“I think it does.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “Can I share some advice, as someone who has more than my fair share of exes?”
She laughed again, lighter this time. Her eyes sparkled. “Sure.”
“It’s harder in our head. We imagine the worst-case scenarios. Maybe I’m going to reveal myself as an asshole here—”
“Never.”
“But as someone who has been the one to leave, almost always—” This time he cut himself off.
She giggled, a full-on, lean-in laughing-at-him and laughing-with-him moment of enjoyment. “Okay,” she whispered, really close to him now. “That’s maybe a sign that you’re an asshole.”
“I warned you,” he said, his voice rough.
“You haven’t shared the advice yet.”
He’d forgotten what he was going to say. Her mouth was right there. Do not kiss her, he warned himself. The chances of him listening to his better self were not good. “As the one who always leaves,” he repeated. “It’s good to see my former partners being happy. It hurts sometimes, too, but that’s the fair cost of giving them up. And the hurt goes away. It’s never harmful.”
She smiled. “Good. I was feeling badly about being childish, maybe. Rubbing his nose in a date that wasn’t real.”
“It wasn’t completely not real,” he said.
She didn’t reply to that. Instead she picked up her glass, watching him the whole time, and downed the contents. Then she refilled both of their glasses.
“Why do you leave?”
He wasn’t expecting that question. He blinked, refocusing on her face. “I don’t know.”
“Liar,” she whispered.
“I’m not a relationship kind of guy. I try, but it fails every time.”
“Haven’t found the right guy?”
He shrugged. “Maybe not. Wouldn’t need to be a guy, though.”
Her eyebrows arched high.
“I usually date guys, but I’m pansexual.” Why was he telling her this? Because you want to peel her out of that dress even though it’s a dangerous, foolish idea. “In theory, if I were to settle down, it could be with anyone.”
“But you aren’t the settling kind.”
“That’s my working hypothesis, yeah.”
“Are you the one-night stand kind?”
Every fucking time. He groaned as she leaned in all the way, those ruby red lips brushing his. It didn’t count if she was the one to initiate the kiss. “For better or worse, I guess I am.”
“Evan?”
He was fucking toast, the way she said his name. Innocent seduction, sweet sexy kindness. And underneath it all, a need he could not ignore. “Ah, Jess.”
Her breath puffed against his mouth. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Yeah.”
“I like you.”
“I like you, too.” He eased back a bit. She needed to see him, and he needed to see her for this. “I’m not a great repeat date.”
“Not looking for a repeat. Just…tonight.” She searched his face, her eyes bright. “Is that okay?”
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it. He hauled her onto his lap, one hand sliding onto her hip, the other burrowing deep into her curls. He brought their mouths together, and let her take it the final step into a searing, explosive kiss.
Her mouth was wet and questing, her tongue eager. Sexy. That was the word for the way she kissed. Erotic fun that spiralled quickly into foreplay, hot thrusts and promising swallows. Like her mouth would be just as talented on his cock.
Like she might want her mouth on his cock, and that was so not the plan.
But it should be. They were consenting adults. She’d asked him for a one-night stand, for God’s sake.
And yet.
When she eased back to look at him, the heady, wanton gaze in her eyes was nearly his complete undoing. He wanted to fuck her so much it hurt.
So it would hurt him.
He could handle that.
He could not handle hurting her, though.
Her cheeks were flushed. He brushed his fingers over the rosy skin, and they darkened again. Blushes undid him every time.
Her husband had blushed under Evan’s inspection, too.
Fuck.
“Finish your wine,” he whispered.
She reached for her glass and swallowed it back.
That talented mouth. That perfect throat.
No, he wouldn’t hurt her.
“Let me tuck you in,” he said instead.
“To bed?” She frowned.
“I should get going.”
“Oh. Okay.” She climbed off his lap, no longer looking at him. “I can put myself to bed, don’t worry.”
Fuck. “I’m not rejecting you.”
“Well, a one-night stand of kissing on the couch isn’t exactly what I had in mind, but…”
He groaned and stood with her, taking her in his arms. Just a hug. “I’m tempted. Please know that.”
“But…what?”
“This is complicated.”
“It doesn’t need to be.” She narrowed her gaze, trying to read him.
He took her hand and pressed it against his chest. He wasn’t hiding how much he wanted her. “Maybe it shouldn’t be complicated, but—”
“It doesn’t need to be,” she repeated. Her hand quested lower, dangerously low on his belly now, and God damn it, he liked that. He liked her fingers and the warmth of her touch on his skin through his dress shirt. The eager expression in her eyes, like she wanted him to show him how he liked it.
He’d like it anyway she wanted to touch him, but it was complicated. He needed to focus. “Here’s the thing,” he said, catching her hand gently before it could drift low enough he’d lose willpower again. “I met Brent tonight.”
She frowned. “When did you meet him?”
“At the bar.”
“You didn’t say anything.”
“I didn’t realize it was him until after you pointed him out.”
“But you talked?”
He took a deep breath. “Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
Evan rolled his lower lip between his teeth. He wasn’t going to out the guy to her, but he wasn’t going to lie, either. “I watched him. He caught my attention, and I was observing him in that way one does. People watching.”
“And you saw him do something you want to tell me about,” she said tightly.
Her hand was no longer on his belly.
Damn it.
He took a deep breath as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest. Then he smiled. “Hey. I’m your friend here.”
“Okay.” But she was guarded now. Cautious. As she should be—she was a woman recovering from a break-up of her marriage. She had every right to be careful here, and maybe for more reasons than she even consciously knew.
He decided to pull the bandage off quickly. “He checked someone out at
the bar. Definitely interested. So if you’re hung up on him still, I don’t want to take advantage of you knowing that he’s moved on.”
Her mouth dropped open.
Her eyes, though, weren’t as surprised as he expected them to be. Her gaze raked his face. Looking for denial? Affirmation?
He couldn’t tell.
Fuck, he couldn’t read her at all, actually. His pulse pounded in his neck. “Jess…”
“That’s what makes this complicated? You and me? Because he checked someone out?”
He frowned. “Yes.”
A long, heavy silence stretched between them. “Was that someone you?”
Jesus. He’d bungled this badly. “You should talk to him.”
“Are you—” She stopped.
Silence stretched between them.
“Okay, you don’t want to tell me. I mean, I think you should, but whatever. Fine.” She laughed breathlessly. “But that really brings full circle something I’ve been hanging on to, and that is that he’s not someone I should be hung up on at all, is he? Right? You’d say that, wouldn’t you? I should move on.”
“Yes.” Evan’s throat was dry. He’d dumped a big thing on her, and she was handling it like a pro. But he still felt wrecked.
She moved closer again. This time, she wasn’t soft and kittenish. She was a cougar on the prowl. No, not a cougar. Fuck, his brain was like Swiss cheese. She was a lioness. That was better.
“What are you thinking?” she purred.
“Trying to figure out what kind of jungle cat you are,” he admitted.
Her eyes narrowed. “Whichever is the biggest, scariest jungle cat around. You can’t hurt me. He hurt me, but then he broke me, and now—well, now I’m pretty unbreakable. So do your worst, Evan. I think I’ll like it.”
“I’m not going to do my worst,” he growled. “Don’t take out your anger at him on me.”
“I don’t need to be coddled, or tucked into bed. What I need is to be fucked, and I don’t think you are the right guy for that, so I’ll walk you out now.”
This was not how Evan wanted the night to end. At all. But it was the price he had to pay for getting it all wrong. He stood. “I’m a phone call away if you need me. Any time, Jess.”
“I’ll be back in Wardham next week for our next meeting on the beach file,” she said, not looking at him. “If I have any questions about that before then, I’ll give you a shout.”