One divorce and two years of abstinence had done zero to build her confidence or up her game. Just the thought of a man—this man—touching her was both terrifying and exhilarating. No lie, Balen was off the charts hot. She had no doubt that he was fully capable of rocking her world, and if she was going to pop her divorcée cherry, she was having a three-way with this guy and Captain Morgan.
The waitress came back over with Autumn’s drink in hand. She could tell by Balen’s arched brow that he was surprised by her amount of consumption and not wholly in favor of it. Huh… judgy much? But Autumn played it off by toasting the air. “Trust me, you’ll be thanking me later.”
Balen ordered a beer. After the waitress turned to leave, he leaned across the table. And that was when she noticed his eyes. Really noticed them. They were like two tiger-eye stones staring at her—dark brown with intricately designed flecks of amber that, in the right lighting, might even turn to gold. She was caught in his stare, mesmerized actually, so much that it startled her when he spoke. “Are you trying to get drunk? Because if that isn’t your goal here, you should probably slow down.” The deep rumble of his voice was a husky caress that rolled right through her.
For the first time, the thought occurred to her, what if I misjudged this guy and he refuses to take me up on my indecent proposal? Would the state of her sobriety, or lack thereof, be a deal breaker for him? He didn’t strike her as a particularly highly-moraled individual. Was she making stereotype judgments based on his looks, that cocky attitude, and one incredibly hot body? She sure was. They were stereotypes for a reason.
A different waitress returned with Balen’s beer a few minutes later. Setting it down, the woman gave him a big flirty smile and Autumn got the feeling she was about to witness case-in-point.
“Hi, Bay.”
Bay?
“Hey, Rushma.”
He knew her name…and it wasn’t because she was wearing a name tag. The smile he gave the woman was familiar—too familiar. Autumn watched their exchange, annoyed by the subtle churning in her gut she recognized as jealousy. Not because she was crushing on this guy or anything, because she wasn’t. She didn’t even know him, and she wasn’t interested in getting to know him, either. Her whole relationship ban was completely on. It was just common courtesy that your waitress not hit on the guy you were on a date with, that’s all.
It didn’t help that Rushma was drop-dead gorgeous, rocking an exotic middle-eastern vibe with the black eye-liner and raven-colored hair spilling down her back. She was small and slender. Some guys liked the waify look. Did Balen? Autumn was tall and curvy—more like a 1940’s pinup model to this woman’s Kate Moss. She couldn’t be anymore her opposite if she tried.
As she sat there watching the waitress eye-fuck her date, Autumn couldn’t help but wonder if Balen was so used to women coming onto him that he was oblivious, or perhaps impervious to it. If she had to guess, Autumn might have to give the guy credit and go with the latter, because he didn’t strike her as an idiot and this woman couldn’t have been any more obvious if she’d crawled into his lap.
From an entertainment standpoint, this was pretty damn good stuff. It was like watching a game of volleyball—she’d serve up a pass, and Balen would deflect it. He was smooth, no doubt about it. So smooth, Autumn wondered if the woman even realized he was rejecting her. Grabbing her Captain Coke, she leaned back in her chair to enjoy the show, shooting him a smirk. What she didn’t expect was to get pulled into the second act.
“Rushma, I don’t think you’ve met my girlfriend, Autumn Harris.”
What? Oh, shit. She swallowed her mouthful of rum and Coke, nearly choking on it as she inhaled. Balen volleyed a challenging grin right back at her, proving he was capable of playing more than one game at a time.
As if realizing for the first time that Balen wasn’t alone, Rushma turned to her, but the warm brown sugar in that woman’s eyes quickly turned to peanut brittle. Before Autumn could say anything at all, Balen stood and stepped behind her, sliding his hand over the back of her neck, squeezing just hard enough to take a causal touch and turn it intimate. Tingles shot through her and she flinched in surprise. Her response only made his smile grow wider, until that damn dimple winked at her.
“Why don’t you tell Rushma what you’d like to eat while I use the men’s room?”
He was leaving her here? Autumn’s jaw dropped, just enough for her lips to part on a protest that didn’t make it past her mouth. A challenging glint of mischief flashed in those gorgeous eyes a moment before he dipped his head and brushed his lips against hers. The contact was brief—fleeting even—but so electrifying she felt it arching all the way to her toes. And then he was gone.
Oh, that son of a—
“What would you like to order?” The woman didn’t even try to sweeten her tone as she pulled out her pen and pad.
Pasting on a smile, Autumn grabbed the menu and quickly searched out the most expensive thing on it. If Balen wanted to play games, she’d play. “We’ll both take the lobster.”
Their waitress walked away without saying another word. It was several more minutes before Balen returned, and by then, Autumn was halfway through her third drink and feeling the buzz. “That one’s going to cost you,” she told him as he sat down across from her.
He flashed her a guilty grin. “The bail or the kiss?”
“Both. Hope you like lobster.”
He chuckled and lifted his beer. “Totally worth it,” he said, raising the bottle and giving her a toast before tipping it back.
“An old girlfriend of yours?”
“Jealous?”
“Not even a little.” Well, maybe a little, but she’d eat sand before she admitted as much.
“Rushma’s the sister of a friend of mine.”
“I’ll let you in on a secret.” Autumn gestured him closer by crooking her finger. He shot her a conspiratorial grin and came forward. She caught another whiff of his clean masculine scent, her pulse quickening in response to his nearness as she whispered near his ear, “I think she wants to be more than friends.”
His laughter rolled through her like a caress, deep and throaty. She liked the sound of it.
“She’s always wanted to be more than friends. If you want to tell me a secret, you’re going to have to come up with a better one than that.”
So he wasn’t oblivious at all. His ignorance had been an act. Good to know. “Sorry. That’s all I’ve got. You already know more about me than I allow a guy on the first date to know.”
Because he’d found her declaration form, he had her phone number, knew her full name, and address in Montana. Which meant he also knew where she was staying on the island, and if she was being honest, Autumn wasn’t entirely comfortable with that. If this guy was going to be her One and Done, she didn’t want him knowing anything about her. The last thing she needed was him showing up on her doorstep for round two.
“Fair enough. Let’s even the score.” He settled back in his chair and stretched into a lazy sprawl. “What do you want to know about me?”
She already knew his mouth tasted like heaven. Did she need to know anything else, considering the reason they were here? After tonight, she had no intention of seeing him again. But they had time to kill before the food came and she’d rather not talk about herself so… “How long have you lived on the island?”
“A few years.”
“Where are you from originally?”
“Baja.”
“California, huh?”
“Yep. Have you always lived in Montana?” he asked, proving he had indeed read the entirety of her paperwork.
It surprised her that he turned the conversation back on her. In Autumn’s experience, most guys, especially ones who looked like him, were conceited enough to be content just talking about themselves. Autumn nodded. “My parents own a horse ranch near Big Sky.”
“Big Sky… Beautiful place. I’ve done some skiing there. Great mountains.”
“
Is that why you were—”
“Kroft!”
Balen’s gaze shot past her, a smile broadening his mouth. Autumn craned her neck to see a man approaching their table.
“Balen Kroft! How the hell are ya?” The guy grasped Balen’s hand, pumping it up and down. “Rushma said you were here. Haven’t seen you around for a while. You been busy catching waves?”
Balen’s gaze briefly flickered to her and, for some reason, she got the sense he was suddenly uncomfortable. Like maybe he didn’t appreciate the interruption, but didn’t want to be rude. Perhaps she imagined it, because a second later his attention was back on the man excitedly shaking his hand. He smiled one of those grins that showcased his delicious dimples.
“Always. How about you?”
“Nah, we all can’t be beach bums. Some of us gotta work for a living, right?”
Balen chuckled, but Autumn could sense the tension edging into him at the guy’s remark. His gaze cut to her, as if he was gaging her reaction to the waiter pointing out Balen’s lack of employment. Oh, shit. Maybe she shouldn’t have ordered the lobster. Was it too late to change their dinner to something less expensive? She glanced toward the kitchen, looking for their snarky waitress so she could ask, but didn’t see the woman. Autumn couldn’t say she was surprised at the news of Balen’s unemployment. Now that the guy mentioned it, he kinda did look like a beach bum with that golden-tan skin, the carefree grin, and overgrown sun-bleached hair.
She was a little annoyed that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind earlier. She didn’t want to stick the guy with a tab he couldn’t afford. Beyond that, she didn’t care. Employment wasn’t a prerequisite for what she wanted him for and, after tonight, she’d never be seeing him again, so it was all irrelevant. But she could tell Balen was uncomfortable. He probably didn’t appreciate this guy calling him out.
“Anyway, I’ll let you get back to your date. I just wanted to say ‘hey’. Catch ya later, Kroft.” He gave Balen a friendly pat on the back and moved on.
“Sorry about that.” Balen cleared his throat, seeming to shake off the remnant of his discomfort, and then beamed her with another sexy grin that heated places inside her that had been dormant for far too long. He lifted his beer to her and said, “By the way, Happy Birthday.”
Great…something else he knew about her. They wanted too much information on those damn forms. “Thanks,” Autumn mumbled, clinking her glass to his, and then started sucking down her drink.
“Turning the big three-o, huh?”
She choked on his comment and began coughing to clear her throat. Amusement danced in his eyes. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to get lost in them. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to talk about a woman’s age?”
He shrugged. “I do a lot of things I probably shouldn’t.”
Oh she didn’t doubt that. “Like what?”
Those dimples made another disarming appearance. “Now you’re trying to change the subject.”
“Of my age? Most definitely. How old are you?” she countered.
“Twenty-five.”
Oh, shit. Am I seriously thinking about Mrs. Robinsoning this guy? He’s twenty-freaking-five? Five years might not sound like that much, but to someone in their twenties it was like a lifetime. She’d crossed a threshold. Thirty was considered old. At least it had to her when she’d been twenty-five.
“For what it’s worth, you don’t look thirty. Besides, age is just a number, right? You’re only as old as you feel.”
If that was true, then she had one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel.
Chapter Five
“Why is the rum always gone?”
Cute. She was quoting Captain Jack Sparrow. Autumn giggled at her own joke, and Balen couldn’t help but chuckle. He had to admit, she was pretty adorable when she was shit-faced, not nearly as waspish as the first time he’d met her. They’d been sitting here having after-dinner drinks and visiting for the last couple of hours. He was surprised by how fast the time had passed. Dinner had been fantastic, the company even better. He liked Autumn. And not just because she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. She was different from the others. To her, he was just some guy, no big deal. She wasn’t star-struck or hung up trying to impress him. She was just Autumn, and it was…refreshing. What you saw was what you got. And Balen liked what he saw—very much. That dress was smokin’ hot. There was no way she could be wearing a bra with the freedom her breasts moved behind that halter top. He’d never prayed more for a nip-slip in his entire life. Autumn had cleavage a man dreamt of burying his face in. His erect cock bucked at the thought, volunteering as tribute. Yeah, he wouldn’t mind burying that in there too…
“It’s gone because you drank it all,” he teased her. If Balen had any complaints, it would be that both times he’d seen her, she’d been intoxicated. He wasn’t sure what that was all about because she didn’t strike him as a heavy drinker. And if she was, he’d expect she’d be able to hold her liquor better than this.
“You know, you kind of look like him...” She tilted her head to the side and squinted her eyes.
“Who’s that?” He had no idea what she was talking about.
“Johnny Depp.”
Ah…Captain Jack Sparrow. “Now I know you’re drunk,” he laughed. “I do not look like Johnny Depp.”
“You kinda do.” Still squinting her eyes, she tipped her head to the other side for a different angle. “Just a bigger, hotter version of him.”
“All right, I think it’s time to get you home.” Balen stood and went around the table to help Autumn up. He’d already given Rushma his credit card, so the tab was covered. It’d surprised him when Autumn had tried to pay. She’d actually put up a bit of a fuss about it. Did she have regrets over her lobster stunt? Because he’d found it pretty funny, and very much deserved after ditching her and leaving her with Rushma. Maybe she was used to guys sticking her with the tab. Who knows?
He offered Autumn his hand to help her up. She took it and glanced at him with eyes that reminded him of the bluest ocean. It was like fireworks detonating inside him. A rush of heat traveled up his arm and Balen’s heart kicked inside his chest. Holy hell, something about this woman totally did it for him.
A gentle tug pulled her to her feet and Autumn stumbled forward. “Oops…” she laughed, crashing into him.
Balen’s arms came around her waist to steady her, giving Autumn a chance to catch her footing. Her breasts crushed against his chest. Damn, she felt good, her pebbled nipples making his already hard cock ache. His body’s response to her was swift and immediate. Testosterone-fueled lust rocketed through his veins until all he could think about was how amazing it would be to spend the night buried inside her.
“You’re always saving me from falling on my ass.” She smiled up at him and it was pure torture resisting the urge to kiss her. But he wouldn’t take advantage of her. Not when she’d been drinking—no matter how much he wanted to touch her, to taste her, to hear his name a broken cry on her lips...
It didn’t matter that she was looking up at him like the same thoughts were going through her head.
“Balen…” Autumn’s voice was soft and husky, from arousal or alcohol, he couldn’t tell. Why did she drink so damn much? If he didn’t know better, he’d swear it had been intentional. Was she just celebrating her birthday and overindulged a little too heavily, or was she that upset about turning thirty? This woman was so beautiful, she had nothing to be worried about.
Despite their conversation, he still didn’t know anything more about her than he’d learned from her declaration papers. Not that he’d been any more forthcoming about his own details. So, although the evening was relaxing and enjoyable, their topics of conversation and the mood had stayed light—until now. Standing here with Autumn in his arms, the heat blazing between them was so intense, he could hardly breathe. She made no effort to regain her balance and Balen swore to God he almost nutted when she leaned in
closer and took a slow, deep breath.
The woman was actually smelling him. How hot was that?
A tortured groan rumbled in his throat as the ache in his balls ratcheted higher. Oblivious to his torture, Autumn lifted her head, a soft smile playing on that lush mouth he was dying to taste. Balen searched her eyes for clarity—for something, anything, to cleanse his conscience of responsibility so he could kiss her.
“You never asked me what I wanted for my birthday.”
Oh, fuck me. The coy playfulness in her tone told him he was absolutely going to regret the next words that came out of his mouth, because he was not going to be able to do a goddamn thing about it.
“What do you want for your birthday, Autumn?” He hardly recognized his own voice it was so raw with need. Balen couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted someone as much as he wanted this woman.
There was a momentary flicker of sobriety in her eyes as she slipped her arms around his neck, stood on her tiptoes, and whispered against his lips, “You.”
Autumn expected Balen to kiss her. She was all but throwing herself at the guy. She’d just given him a free pass to fuck her and she knew he wanted to. She could see the lust in his eyes sparkling like flecks of gold dust, feel his erection pressing against her hip, and hear it in the strain of his sexy voice. What she did not expect was for him to reach up and untangle her arms from his neck and take a measured step back.
“You’re drunk, Autumn.”
And there was so much regret and disappointment in his voice, she almost felt guilty. But Autumn was not a quitter. She needed to do this, and it had to be tonight, because she might not get the courage to go through with it again. She had no doubt in her mind that she wanted Balen to be her One and Done. He was off the charts sexy, and he made her feel things she’d never experienced before—not even with Alex. If she could get him out of here, she knew she could persuade him to change his mind.
One and Done (Island of Love Book 1) Page 4