Hot Shot (American Royalty Book 3)

by Robin Bielman

  He notices my glass of water and waves a hand at the bartender. A thick black watch peeks out from his sleeve. His hand is big, capable-looking. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  With the way my pulse is racing, he absolutely can. I may need several to calm my nerves. “I think I saw a blood orange margarita on the menu.”

  “Good choice.”

  “Hey, Drew,” the bartender says. “What can I get you?”

  “Two blood orange margaritas, please. On the rocks.”

  “You got it.” He drops a cocktail napkin in front of Drew and one in front of me.

  “You seem to know a lot of people,” I say.

  “A few. What about you?”

  “I’m here with my sister and two friends. They’re on the dance floor.”

  “It’s lucky I got to you before someone else, then.”

  I cant my head down. It’s a good thing my light brown skin doesn’t give away my blush easily. Are there other people here? All of a sudden it doesn’t feel like it.

  “Looks like you took one for the team,” he says next.

  “What?”

  His knee taps mine as he swivels and nods to my boot.

  Oh, that. I grin. What a nice way to put it. Not only is Drew the hottest-looking man in this bar, but he’s decided I’m caring rather than klutzy, something no stranger has done in the five weeks I’ve been injured. “Team captain right here,” I say.

  “Your T-shirts have a ‘W’ on them, don’t they?”

  It takes me a second to follow his train of thought. Wonder Woman. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?” I tease.

  He smiles and I’m hit not only with flirty intensity, but sincerity, too. He might be coming on strong, but his compliment is genuine. “Is it working?”

  Yes. No.

  I’m saved from answering aloud when the bartender places our drinks on the bar. Drew picks up his glass and holds it in the air for a toast. I raise my glass next to his. “Cheers,” he says.

  “Cheers.” I take a giant sip, and in my haste almost spill it down the front of my dress.

  Drew is more graceful with his, and I can’t help but stare at his lips as they wrap around the rim of his glass. Without permission, my mind wanders to what it would be like to have his mouth on mine. To have his lips on other parts of my body. While we explored each other’s naked bodies between the sheets.

  He raises an eyebrow and I immediately lock down any and all sexy thoughts. No way can he guess I’m imagining what he’s like in bed.

  Right?

  I have no idea what has come over me. I’ve never been so aware of another person before. This is all Matthew’s fault. He’s supposed to be here with me tonight celebrating my birthday. Not sending a happy birthday text with an alligator emoji. Although the cute little animal did make me smile. It’s our special thing. See you later, alligator.

  “Dude!” Romeo Two approaches and pats Drew on the back. “You lucky bastard,” he says, eyes trained on me. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing.”

  On autopilot I glance down my body. Everything looks fine. He’s seeing me, so what gives?

  “Alejandra, this is my friend, West.”

  “Hey,” West says, a grin on his face like he knows something I don’t.

  “Hi.” I turn my attention back to Drew. “Have we met before?” I’m good with faces, so I don’t think so, but—

  “Only in Drew’s dreams,” West announces.

  Drew glares at him. “Jesus, West, can you go find somewhere else to be please?”

  “Alejandra,” West says, “don’t let my best friend down.” He squeezes Drew’s shoulder, a good luck gesture, I think, and takes off.

  “I’m confused,” I say, setting my forearms atop the stainless steel bar and fiddling with the napkin under my drink.

  Rather than explain right away, Drew watches my hands. “I like your tattoo.”

  “Thanks.” The delicate ink at the base of my finger is special and important, a constant reminder of strength and hope.

  “It’s some kind of flower?”

  “A lotus. It represents our ability to prosper even in adversity.” I bend my wrist up and straighten my fingers to give him a good look. “I put it there because the vein on our middle finger leads straight to the heart.”

  Drew lifts his gaze back to my face. “You’re more than meets the eye,” he says warmly. “But here’s the funny thing. I have a huge crush on Zoe Saldana. We’re talking massive infatuation, and you—”

  “Look like her younger twin sister.”

  “Yes.” His voice is adamant and intimate at the same time. “You’ve been told that before.”

  “Many times.” I take a sip of my drink, intrigued by this turn of events. Drew sought me out because I look like his favorite celebrity. Since the real Zoe Saldana is married, he’s probably thinking I make a decent runner-up. To sleep with? Have a one-night stand with?

  I’d like to think I could put Matthew in the back of my mind and go through with something like that, but the truth is I’m not that kind of girl.

  “That bothers you.” He runs a hand through his thick light brown hair. “Shit. I apologize if I’ve offended you in some way. That’s the last thing I wanted to do.”

  “Don’t think anything of it.”

  “You’ve got me completely off my game,” he admits.

  I laugh. He looks at me quizzically and I laugh harder. That I’ve flustered him in some way is ridiculously gratifying in the most nerve-racking way possible. He’s flipping gorgeous, friendly, and I’m guessing fantastic in bed. If he was on his game, we’d probably be halfway to his place by now despite my reservations and attachment to Matthew. My cheeks heat at the thought.

  He moves a little closer, bends his head so we’re eye level. “You have the sexiest laugh I’ve ever heard.”

  Okay, wow. No one has ever said that to me before. Then because his compliment is the nicest I’ve received in years, and I apparently want to distinguish myself as embarrassingly unimpressive, I snort. The sudden sound through my nose is mortifying. I cover my mouth with my hand and wince.

  There is no way he doesn’t walk away. I guarantee you Zoe Saldana doesn’t snort.

  He doesn’t walk away.

  Lifting his drink, he takes a sip, his eyes never leaving mine. Oh-kay, then.

  I drop my arm and open my mouth to say something, but I’ve got nothing. I’m curious about this handsome stranger. He was unexpected, and maybe that’s the only common thread we need for tonight.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he says. With authority. And enough confidence for the both of us.

  Don’t let my best friend down.

  Drew’s proposition is nothing more than an invitation for sex and my pulse buzzes like a bumble bee. Temptation has never looked so good, but could I actually do it?

  “Shit. Excuse me a minute,” he says, his tone serious as he pulls his ringing phone from his pocket and stands. “I’ve been waiting on an important call. I’ll be right back.” He takes two steps then turns around. “Don’t go anywhere.” I’m left with a killer smile before he walks down the hallway toward the restrooms where it’s much quieter.

  While I wait for his return my mind goes to what would Gabby do?

  She’d go home with him in a hot minute. But then she’s always been the one to jump into things with both feet while mine stay planted firmly on the ground. One of us has had to. That doesn’t mean she hasn’t tried to drag me to the wild side over the years, but I can’t do it. Even if deep down there’s a part of me that secretly wishes I could.

  “Hey!” Speak of the devil. Gabby leans her hip against the stool Drew vacated. “We’re heading to a different bar. Come on.”

  “What?”

  “Landon and his friend want us to join them at some other place. Everyone is waiting for us outside.”

  “I…” Can’t. Don’t want to. Have other plans with someone who isn’t Matthew.

  Gabby tugs
on my arm. “Let’s go. I really want you to meet Landon. I know I just met him, but I think he might be the one.”

  And just like that my decision is made for me. Gabby might be a serial dater, but her happiness ranks way over a potential hookup I’m really not ready for. “Okay, give me a minute and I’ll be right there.”

  Her brows pinch together in confusion but rather than question my request she says, “All right. I have to use the little girls’ room anyway. I’ll meet you out front.”

  I tell the bartender I have to go and ask him for a pen. “Drew will be back to take care of these,” I say, motioning to our margaritas. At least I hope he will. The bartender nods without a worry, so I won’t worry about it either. I reach for a clean cocktail napkin. Flick the pen back and forth in my fingers for a minute.

  Drew,

  Maybe some other time…

  Sweet dreams,

  Alejandra

  Sliding the note under Drew’s drink, I glance toward the hallway hoping and not hoping to see him before I leave. Gabby emerges instead, and when she finds me looking in her direction, points toward the door. I slide off my stool without a glance back.

  Chapter Three

  Serendipity

  Drew

  This time when the temperature in the bar jacks up and the air molecules seem to slow down, I know why.

  Holy shit.

  It’s her.

  Alejandra.

  I can’t believe we’re staring at each other from across the room. I gave up on ever seeing her again. Tried to stop thinking about her.

  Told myself the brief time we spent together was enough.

  But here she is, looking more gorgeous than I remember—and it has nothing to do with the actress she resembles. Form-fitting yellow dress that falls midthigh, black hair spilling down her back, olive skin, almond-shaped eyes, a wide mouth I’ve stupidly fantasized about more times than I care to admit.

  Alejandra, the things I’ve done to you in my sweet dreams.

  A guilty look crosses her beautiful face as she tries to appear composed after dropping her hands from one of the limited-edition Baccarat vases my designer carefully chose for the lobby.

  “Grandmother, excuse me a minute. I’ll be right back.” I’ve finished eating my breakfast. She’s got one bite left of hers, and I can’t let this opportunity go by.

  I’m laser focused as I stride across the lobby, curious about what Alejandra is up to and anxious to reacquaint myself with her feminine scent. She’s leaning a hip against the table, her arms are crossed, and she’s dropped her gaze to the marble floor as I approach.

  If she thinks that will stop me from saying hello, she is sorely mistaken. As if she can sense my determination, or better yet feel the magnetic pull between us all over again, she lifts her head. Eyes the color of melted toffee meet mine. Electricity sparks down my spine.

  “Hi.” I stop in front of her. Close enough to easily kiss her pretty lips if I wanted to. Yeah, nine months hasn’t done much to cool my jets where this woman is concerned.

  “Hello,” she says. It’s a standard “hello” rather than the breathy one I’ve imagined a time or ten.

  “It’s Alejandra, right?” Don’t hate on me for playing it cool and not laying my cards too soon.

  She frowns and for a second I feel like a total dick. But then her expression morphs into easygoing indifference brimming with poise, and she nods. It’s hot AF watching her play off our chance encounter. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”

  Sure, she doesn’t. I fight a smile. “Drew.”

  “Right. Hi, Drew.”

  For several charged beats we size each other up. I have never run into a female acquaintance less enthusiastic about my presence. It seems as though Alejandra wants to make a run for it. I can’t have that.

  “It’s good to see you again.” So good that my pounding headache has disappeared.

  “You, too,” she says absently before darting a glance over her shoulder toward the restaurant. “I, uh, have to get back to my sister and her boyfriend.”

  “You’re here for brunch?” It doesn’t go unnoticed she didn’t mention a boyfriend of her own.

  “Yes.”

  “How is it?”

  She scrunches up her nose. “It’s okay.”

  “Just okay?” I do not want to hear the food at Water’s Edge is mediocre. My chef is one of the best. Sunday brunch is always busy, and I want every guest to leave here raving about their meal to their friends. Is the kitchen not up to par today? My grandmother enjoyed her breakfast. Mine was fine. Shit. Fine isn’t good enough.

  Alejandra deliberates something, her eyes flitting between me and the open shutter doors of the restaurant. “It’s not the food,” she admits, and I immediately relax. “It’s my sister’s boyfriend.”

  “Not a fan?”

  “Not really.”

  “Is it serious?”

  “You could say that. I’d rather have a tarantula crawling up my arm than hang out with him, and I hate spiders more than anything.”

  I laugh. She is sexy and adorable. “I meant is it serious between him and your sister.”

  “Oh.” Her long lashes sweep down over the tops of her cheekbones. “I think so.”

  “That sucks then.” I hit the jackpot with the women my brothers were lucky enough to land. I adore Chloe and Pascale.

  “He’s nice to my sister so that’s all that really matters.” She thumbs in the direction of brunch. “I really should get back now.”

  I really don’t want her to walk away. “Was there something about the vase that you needed to check out?” Maybe she works as a designer or interior decorator. If so, I’ll fire my current designer and hire Alejandra to help with the renovations on my house. The woman working for me now was recommended by my grandmother, so you know what that means, right? Big mistake, as the woman is not my type no matter how often Grandmother likes to go on about how great she is and that love happens all the time between people who work together, just look at Finn and Chloe.

  “The, uh, vase?” Her voice cracks.

  “The one you were touching.”

  She takes a step away from the table like it just burst into flames, and once again glances over her shoulder. “Oh, that. Uh…I wanted to check it out, I mean see if it was you know…” I raise my eyebrows. “It’s so pretty and I wondered if maybe…if maybe it was…available for sale.” A visible swallow makes its way down the long column of her neck.

  I have no idea what to make of her nervousness—and obvious lie—but I’ll play along if it keeps her in my company longer.

  “Do you know if they sell art pieces from hotel lobbies?” she continues, looking around the room. “I mean generally speaking, I don’t think they do, but my sister’s boyfriend works in a gallery and they’re always buying new art.” Her voice rises an octave on buying new art. “I’ll just go ask the front desk and maybe they can leave a message for the hotel manager or something.”

  I smirk. She has no idea who I am and it feels fantastic. “I’ll wait for you here.”

  “You don’t need to do that.” She transfers her weight from one foot to the other. She’s wearing white flip-flops with a sunflower on each. Her toes are painted light blue. Along with the dress, she is the embodiment of sunshine and blue skies.

  “I do actually.” If truth be told, I have a list of needs: her phone number, her full name, her availability for our first date.

  She looks slightly panic-stricken then gives a small shake of her head. Not to me, but to a girl I’m guessing is her sister, rising from a table in the restaurant. The girl sits back down.

  I take Alejandra’s elbow in order to find us some privacy. Her skin is soft, warm. Her floral scent is heady. “Come with me,” I say, not sure where I’m leading her to.

  “What are you doing?” She tugs her arm out of my hold. “Are you security?”

  “What? No. Why would you ask me that?”

  We stand still and ta
ke each other in, confusion swirling between us. We are clearly on different pages here.

  “Hello.”

  Oh, shit. I forgot all about my grandmother. God, I suck at the moment. I turn my head to look down at all five-foot-one inches of her. Her focus, however, is narrowed in on Alejandra.

  “Hi,” Alejandra says with a friendly smile that’s come out of nowhere. It certainly wasn’t pointed in my direction.

  “I’m Rosemary, Drew’s grandmother.”

  “Hi, Rosemary. I’m Alejandra. It’s nice to meet you.” She looks between my grandmother and me with kindness. “I apologize if I kept him from you. I was just saying goodbye.”

  “I hope not on my account,” Grandmother says.

  “No. I—”

  “What a beautiful brooch.” Grandmother nods to the vintage glass bead and diamond flower-shaped pin on Alejandra’s dress.

  Alejandra crosses her arm over her chest and lightly touches the jewelry. “Thank you.”

  “Not many young women wear them anymore.”

  “It belonged to my mother. And before her, my grandmother.”

  Belonged. The word hints at loss and I don’t like the way that makes me feel. Alejandra’s eyes soften, but I can’t tell if it’s in remembrance or gratitude. Maybe both. Fuck. She’s what? Twenty-four? Twenty-five?

  “That makes it even more beautiful,” Grandmother says. “Drew wore my diamond earrings for a little while.” She puts her hand to the side of her mouth to mock whisper to Alejandra. “Between you and me, he looked really pretty, but that wasn’t the look he was going for.”

  Alejandra giggles at the same time I groan. “I never would have pictured you with pierced ears,” she says to me.

  Meaning she’s pictured me other ways. Good to know.

  “He and his friends wanted to be the next big boy rapper band.”

  “Oh really?” Alejandra asks in amusement, her eyes shining.

  “It’s boy band or rapper,” I say. “And I think—”

  “Drew has some magic fingers,” Grandmother interrupts.

  Alejandra chokes while I cringe. I can’t believe she just said that. Actually, I can, but talk about uncomfortable innuendo. “Grandmother,” I admonish with a nice tone.