by Alison Bliss
“I don’t know about that,” he said, allowing his eyes to drop lower for a delicious view of her nicely rounded curves. “I think you look pretty damn—”
“Excuse me,” someone interrupted, tapping his shoulder. “Do you remember me from the other night?”
Sam and Leah both turned toward the black-haired beauty standing behind him. The young woman’s red leather pants clung low on her waist, displaying a midriff pierced by a sparkly diamond on a silver chain. Her top—if you could call it that—resembled a sexy push-up bra with rhinestones.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, glancing at Leah and then back to him. “But I saw you when I walked by and couldn’t help myself.” She giggled and blushed a little. “After all, it’s not every day a girl gets picked up and taken home by a stranger.”
Sam knew she referred to the innocent ride home he gave her when he found her on the side of the road with a flat tire and no spare, but he stiffened a little anyway. Anyone—including Leah—could easily take the girl’s comment out of context. And judging by the irritated expression on Leah’s face, she had done just that.
He could’ve told the truth. Hell, maybe he should have. But remembering what he was about to say to Leah made him rethink his position. The interruption had to be some sort of divine intervention. Otherwise he’d have his mouth trailing all over Leah’s body until morning. And that couldn’t happen. He meant what he’d said to Max. No women. Not even this one.
“Amy, right?” Sam asked the young woman and waited as she nodded in confirmation. “Would you like to dance?” Out of the corner of his eyes, he monitored Leah’s reaction. Her green eyes widened, and her mouth fell open before she snapped it closed. “You don’t mind, do you, Leah?”
“No, of course not.” She smiled briefly, but the disappointment was apparent in her lackluster eyes. Without another word, she pivoted and marched away, leaving him with an overwhelming amount of guilt in her wake.
“Give me a second,” he told the young woman and then rushed to catch Leah before she vacated the dance floor. “Leah, wait!”
She spun on him, her fierce eyes punching him straight in the gut. She was pissed and rightfully so. And that only made him feel more like a heel than he already did.
“Leah, it’s just that…” He should explain it all, if only to keep her from thinking he was a jackass. But he couldn’t. Not without leading her on, which wouldn’t be fair to her. The last thing he wanted was to get involved with her—with anyone, for that matter. And as cowardly as it was, the simplest solution was to let her think whatever horrible scenario she’d conjured up in her mind was true. “I’m sorry. You’re just not my type,” he blurted out.
Leah glanced across the floor, her eyes scrolling up and down Amy’s skin-baring, leather-clad figure. Then she peered down at her own voluptuous body and pursed her lips. “It’s okay, Sam. It’s not like I didn’t see it coming.” Then she turned and walked away.
He cringed. Not only was what he said the farthest thing from the truth, but the thoughtless brush-off sounded more like a fucked-up insult. Smooth, asshole. Real smooth.
About the Author
Alison Bliss grew up in Small Town, Texas, but currently resides in the Midwest with her husband and two sons. With so much testosterone in her home, it’s no wonder she writes “girl books.” She believes the best way to know if someone is your soul mate is by canoeing with them because, if you both make it back alive, it’s obviously meant to be. Alison pens the type of books she loves to read most: fun, steamy love stories with heart, heat, laughter, and usually a cowboy or two. As she calls it, “Romance...with a sense of humor.”
To learn more, visit her at:
authoralisonbliss.com
Facebook/AuthorAlisonBliss
Twitter @AlisonBliss2
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