by Chiah Wilder
“Something like that,” Lena muttered, hugging the stack of flyers to her chest. Feeling a light blush flushing across her cheeks, she took a step back, knowing she needed to go before things went any further between them. “It was nice seeing you.”
It was a lame exit, especially when he was taking her out to dinner on Saturday. But his comment, and the desire in his eyes, put her a little off her game. Hell, he knocked her off her feet in ways no one else did, or had done in a very long time.
“I’ll call to let you know which restaurant we’re going to. I’d call around now, but you seem a little harried.” His eyes and face were bright with their flirtation.
“You can tell so easily that it’s been a rough week for me?”
“Trust me, I’m smarter than I look.”
Lena was prepared to let the comment sit between them as she sashayed out of his shop and back into the sunshine, but she couldn’t let it stand. The question bounced around in her head until it was flying out of her mouth.
“Who says you aren’t smart, Tank?”
Chuckling, he stepped out from behind the desk so that they were only a few inches away from each other. “Not anyone who knows what’s good for them. It’s the usual first impression I give off to most people, though. You know, big, dumb jock, or scary enforcer.”
He didn’t look away when he said it, and she could tell he didn’t care one way or the other what people thought of him, and she liked that.
“I’m sure the women get a very different impression.” She tilted her head, almost daring him to call her a liar.
“It can go both ways, but a majority of chicks dig me.” He ran a hand over his head, his grin spreading even wider. “I like how chatty you are when you’re not at work. Maybe I should take advantage of my good luck and take you to dinner tomorrow night. I wouldn’t want whatever this is to wear off and be sitting across from a mute all night.”
“First of all, that’s mildly insulting,” Lena scoffed, adjusting the stack of papers. “Second, let’s meet at Crawley’s on Saturday.”
He hesitated, which caught her by surprise. “Why the fuck are we meeting at a bar? I’m taking you out for dinner.”
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, and this keeps things casual. We can go to the restaurant from Crawley’s.”
“That’s ridiculous, and back-assed as hell.”
She shrugged. “That’s my condition.”
Tank moved his hand from his head to the back of his neck. “All right, whatever. I don’t normally make it a habit of being with women who are so…”
“Demanding? Controlling? Intelligent? Superior?”
“Insistent.” He rocked back on the heels of his boots and crossed his arms as he studied her. “Just so you know, casual is my only mode, so you don’t have to worry your gorgeous little head about that, Lena.”
Her name slipped off his tongue like a seductive caress. For a heartbeat, she could only stand there as his voice echoed between her ears, teasing and full of promise beneath the deep tenor that sent a single shiver down her spine. She had to watch herself around him, because he was definitely dangerous. She’d bet he was lethal between the sheets, with his lips caressing her bare flesh while he whispered every little detail of what he wanted to do to her body. She could almost feel his tongue and teeth tracing glistening patterns on her flesh that dried against the teasing air—
“You still with me?”
Jumping at his voice, she nodded absently, swallowing past the sudden arousal that was flooding through her body.
“Thanks for the flyers. That was kind of you, but I’ve got to get back to work now. I’ll see you Saturday.” She spun around and marched out the door without a backward glance.
Forget the blue sky, the pungent smells, the lulling breeze. None of that mattered at the moment. The only thing on her mind was Tank.
There was no doubt about it—the man was turning out to be the biggest complication ever.
Lena
Saturday
Many of the Santa Teresita bars lined the streets on lower Union Street, and Crawley’s sat on the corner, its yellow neon sign a beacon for those in search of good bar food and cheap drinks.
Lena folded one leg over the other, dangling her high heel, and brought the cocktail glass to her lips. Crawley’s was known for its all-night happy hour, and sometimes she’d stop by after a long day at work and order one of the bar’s famous drinks—Snarky Ghost Breeze, a concoction of tequila, Strega, lime, and cinnamon.
Laughter drowned out the jukebox, and Lena tuned out the noise by going through the numerous emails cluttering her inbox. She’d arrived earlier than their agreed upon time, and she had to do something to quell the first date nerves that’d been wracking her mind and body for most of the day. Never had she been this anxious about going out with a man, so it irritated her that her emotions were getting the best of her.
Maybe it wasn’t the date, but the thought of the two hoodlums coming back into the bistro to snatch up her hard-earned money with their grubby hands. Her anger spiked every time she thought about those bastards.
“Another Ghost Breeze?” the bartender asked as she picked up Lena’s empty glass.
“Yes, please.” Opening her satin clutch, she took out two singles and laid them on the counter.
Normally, one cocktail would’ve been her limit, especially if she was meeting up for dinner and more drinks, but the sweet, tangy beverage worked wonders on helping her to relax. And most people would agree that she’d had a really shitty week. Bile rose in her throat at the memory of the two thugs pressing up against her. Lena squeezed her eyes shut, willing the carousel of images from that night to evaporate. There was no way in hell she’d let those cruel animals ruin her night out with Tank.
Tank. Just the thought of him pushed the ugliness of that night into the shadowed corners of her mind. Despite her somber mood, a small smile lifted her lips. The man was captivating, but at the end of the day, he was just a man, and there were plenty of handsome, muscular men out there. A walk along the beach any day of the week attested to that fact. But no man had intrigued, or had such an effect on her as Tank had, and she didn’t know why. Maybe tonight, she’d be able to unravel the mystery.
“Here you go.” The bartender placed the drink down in front of Lena. “Is your party late?”
Lena picked up the glass and took a sip. “My party?”
The black-haired woman smiled. “You keep looking at the door.”
She laughed. “It’s a habit, but I am meeting a friend. I’m just early.”
The woman nodded. “If you need anything else, let me know.” She rapped her knuckles on the bar top and left to attend other customers.
Another wave of anxiety washed over her. Maybe coming early wasn’t a good idea.
Maybe this whole date thing is wrong. Every doubt she had about going out with him bombarded her, and she fought them off one at a time. I’m being ridiculous. This is just dinner, and I am hungry.
When Fe had spasmed over the news of her date, Lena acted like it was no big deal, and she kept up the façade for the rest of the week. Though she kept telling herself that it was just a casual dinner and not a big deal, Lena had asked Adalyn to close the bistro that night so she could rush home and get ready. She’d taken extra care by blow-drying her hair and putting on eye shadow before slipping into a mid-length swingy chiffon sundress with spaghetti straps. The floral pattern was in shades of orange, which complemented her olive complexion, and the thigh-high front slit was sexy, but not in a trashy way.
Looking down at her bare leg, she tugged the fabric of her dress over it and downed the rest of her cocktail.
When someone tapped her on the shoulder, she turned around and saw Tank standing behind her barstool, the day-old scruff dusting his strong jaw, defining his cheekbones. For an instant, all coherent thought disappeared as she looked at him. Dressed in a black button-down shirt that clung to broad shoulders, and crisp blac
k jeans that emphasized his muscular thighs, the man looked damn good.
Heat licked over her skin as his gaze traveled down the length of her body. She bit her inner lip, forcing her eyes to stay put and not wander down to his dick.
Slipping his arm over the back of the barstool, his fingers grazed her upper arm, making her shiver. Every inch of her was aware of his closeness.
“Hi.” His warm breath ghosted across her face.
Straightening in her chair, she leaned forward a bit. “Hi. You’re early.”
“So are you.” Tank gazed down and back up. Meeting her eyes, a small smile played on his lips. “Nice legs.”
She looked down to see that the side split in her dress had ridden up and parted, revealing a little too much of her thigh. Twisting on the stool, she fidgeted with the hem of the dress while cursing her choice of attire for the night.
“You look beautiful,” he told her.
“Thanks.”
The female bartender leaned against the bar and eyed them both. “Would you like something to drink?” She gave Lena a wink. “Now I know why you were early. I’d be early for him too.”
The soft rumble of his deep chuckle sounded in her ear as he dipped his head so low, his mouth lined up next to it.
“Do you want another drink?” he asked.
When he spoke, the coarse timbre of his voice sent sweet lust coiling tighter. Pulling away slightly, she shook her head no.
Tank riffled through his wallet and handed over his card to the bartender. “I’m good. We were just leaving. Put the tab on my card.”
Lena grabbed his arm, trying to stop him. “No, you don’t have to do that. I’m fully capable—”
“If he’s paying, I wouldn’t say no, girl.” The bartender cocked her head and flipped his card through her fingers. “I’m sure you deserve it.”
Before Lena could say anything else, she was running his card and handing it back to him. Tank struck her as the type who wouldn’t let a lady pay for anything, whether she was a friend or lover.
“Let’s go.”
When he took her hand, a small jolt of heat lit her all the way to her core. He weaved them through the room full of people, and before she knew it, they were in the parking lot. A light breeze carried the sweet scent of wisteria that hung from trellises circling the back patio.
“Where are we going for dinner?” she asked, gently taking her hand back.
“Saltwater. Have you been there?”
“No, but I’ve been wanting to try it. I love seafood.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Good choice.”
He laughed. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
“I’m not—I’m pleased. I hear the view is spectacular.”
“It is, but it’s better during the day or at sunset. They light up the palm trees and bushes surrounding the patio, so that’s cool. I made the reservation for inside, but there are firepits on the patio if you’d rather eat out.”
“Inside is fine. Even though it’s summer, the ocean air can get chilly.” Lena opened her clutch and dug through it, looking for the car keys.
“Are you okay with me driving?”
“I’m good with it, so long as you know how to take directions.”
She jingled the keys in her hands. “No worries. I’ll get us there in one piece. I’m surprised you agreed to me driving so easily.”
“I don’t think you’d like my ride. It’s easier if we take yours tonight.” He pivoted on the asphalt, making a gesture for her to lead the way.
She walked in front of him and headed toward her car.
“You don’t strike me as one of these people who hoard trash in their cars,” she said.
“I’m not.” His even footsteps sounded next to her, but not so close that she felt like he was on top of her, just close enough.
“Then why wouldn’t I like it? Too old? Too ugly?” She giggled. “Maybe it’s too loud. Although, you don’t seem like the type of guy who’d go in for much color.”
They came up on her burgundy SUV. Hitting the key fob, the headlights blinked. She looked over at him, trying to read his expression under the diluted yellow parking lot light.
“None of those things.” He eyed her car. “People say you can learn a lot about a person by their driving ability. Are you a road rage driver or a grandma?”
“Nice change of subject.”
“Shit, I hoped you wouldn’t pick up on it.” He deadpanned as she walked toward her side of the SUV. “So you’re not just a pretty face.”
“Damn straight.”
“I’d already figured that out fifteen minutes after I met you.”
She slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine to her Kia Sorento before putting on her seat belt. She pretended to give him the evil eye until he slid his on and held up his hands as if to say “Ta-da.”
Turning out of the parking lot, she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “To answer your question, my driving is probably somewhere in-between road rager and granny, depending on what kind of mood I’m in. I’ve never gotten a speeding ticket, but then, I didn’t get my license until just a few years ago. Paris had such an amazing transportation network, I never needed it.”
“Paris?”
“I spent four years there, in school, studying culinary arts.” The memory stuck in her abdomen as she tried to will away the wash of sadness that came with it. “It was one of the best experiences of my life.”
“I can imagine.”
Tank gave her directions as they drove away from the downtown area.
“Do you like to travel, Tank?”
“Yeah. I take road trips, usually disappearing for two or three months a year. But the last two years, I haven’t been able to hit the road as much as I’d like.”
“I hear you. It’s hard to own a business.”
“Yeah. Turn right here.”
“I see the restaurant. Wow, it’s right on the water.” Lena pulled into the parking lot and secured a spot. “I love the way this place is built into the sandbank, as if it’s always been a part of the environment here.”
“I know the guy who owns it. I’ve been coming here for a long time, and the food is always out of this world. Freshest seafood on the beach, and at night, the view of the stars is unbeatable.”
At his prodding, she looked up through the windshield into the shining inky sky above them. Her breath hitched at the sheer beauty of the constellations shimmering so brightly without light pollution to take it down a notch.
“We keep getting into these situations, you know,” she remarked quietly, her hands resting on the wheel as she took in the vast galaxy above.
“Situations like what?”
“Romantic ones.”
“Ah.” They both looked out the window at the waves breaking on the white sand beach glistening in the moonlight. “Well, maybe there’s a reason for that.”
Lena made a non-committal noise, pretending to take great care in undoing her seatbelt.
“Let me help you.”
Suddenly, he was next to her, pulling the belt from its holder. Tilting her head to look up at him, he brushed a hand across her cheek, tangling his fingers in her hair. The naked heat in his eyes seared her, holding her gaze when she wanted nothing more than to look away. She saw his focus shift to her mouth seconds before he pressed his lips to hers. Instead of pushing him off, she leaned into him, returning the kiss. For several minutes, their tongues stroked, lips and mouths seeking. When his hand slid over to her exposed thigh, her senses took hold. Gently clasping his hand, she moved it away.
“You’re amazing.” Pulling back, he tapped her nose with his finger. “We better go in before they give our reservation away.”
Nodding, she unlocked the doors and pulled down the visor to reapply her lipstick. They still burned in the aftermath of his fiery possession. Stepping out of the SUV, he held out his hand, which she took, and they walked into the eatery.
A half hour later, they were sharing
a colossal shrimp cocktail, a platter of lobster rolls, crab cakes, and a bottle of pinot grigio.
“You were right when you said this place was gorgeous,” Lena said before biting into a lobster roll. “The rhythmic shushing of the waves is so relaxing. I should come here daily.”
“I’m down for that.” Grinning, Tank speared a shrimp with his fork. “How do you like the food so far?”
“Well, judging by my fancy palette,” she replied with a thick French accent, “it’s some of the best” —she broke into laughter, unable to keep up the charade— “I’ve had in the area.”
“It’s so fuckin’ cute the way your nose crinkles when you laugh.”
“Do you flatter the women you take out for dinner?”
“You act like I’m a player. And before you say anything—I’m not.”
“I bet women don’t say no to you often.” Leaning back in her chair, she cocked her head to the side. “I bet you’re one of those men who’re used to getting exactly what they want, when they want it.” She took a sip of wine, eyeing him over the rim of her glass.
“I’m not.” He reached for the bottle of beer in front of him. “I’ve always been a hard worker, but yeah, things come easy with women.”
“So you’re saying they throw themselves at you?” Lena’s eyes traced his picture-perfect features. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Yet I’m here, with you. Means being picky must pay off for me.”
“Damn, that was smooth.” She felt her cheeks heat despite her eye roll, and she tried to concentrate on the food so he couldn’t see the million and one thoughts rolling through her head. It was time for a swift change in topic. “You must have one hell of a mother to make you so picky.”
A flash of something she couldn’t identify tightened his features before he smoothed out his expression. Maybe she’d hit a nerve. It was bound to happen, given the fact that they were virtual strangers, but the mishap still sat uneasily on her shoulders.
“She raised us as a single mom, so yeah, she’s pretty spectacular.”
“Us?”
“I’ve got a younger brother.” Frowning, he twisted the dewy beer glass in between his fingers. “He doesn’t come around much. What about you? Do you have any siblings?”
