In The Moment

by Alison G. Bailey

  “Why not?”

  “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to accept an open drink from a stranger?”

  “That’s if you’re at a frat party and someone shoves a fucking red cup in your face. The dude who bought that didn’t make it. Besides, they’re very expensive. Take ‘em while you can get ‘em.”

  “Dude? Really, Grace?”

  Out of nowhere, a deep voice swirled in my ear. “So you don’t like the drink?”

  A wave of tingles washed over my body at the sound of his baritone voice and the vicinity of his body. Turning my head, my gaze collided with the deepest blue eyes I’d ever seen. His dark brows were crinkled together, and there was a slight pout to his lips. I tried to let out the breath stuck in my throat but he was too close, and I didn’t want to blow Fireball in his chiseled face.

  Swallowing hard, I finally said, “I haven’t tried it. I don’t know what it is.”

  I jolted at the touch of his hand on the small of my back as he shifted closer. “A melon ball.”

  I nodded as if I knew what he was talking about but apparently my confusion broke through the poker face I was struggling to hold on to.

  His pout turned into a sexy grin as he placed his bottle of beer on the bar. “Vodka, Midori, and orange juice.”

  “You sent this?”

  “Sure did.”

  “To me?”

  “I thought the color would look nice with your dress.” His gaze roamed up and down, taking me in.

  “Does that line actually work?”

  “I’m about to find out.” His eyes stayed glued to mine as he picked up his beer and took a swig.

  “Slick.”

  “What’s your name?”

  His attention had parts of my body that had not been heard from in a very long time, waking up and heating up. Tonight had been overwhelming enough, I needed a little distance. Stepping back, I bumped into something solid.

  “Grace?” Glancing over my shoulder, my gaze drifted up to find a very tall young man smiling down at me. “I’m sorry. I thought you were my friend.”

  “No prob,” he said then turned and flirted with the female bartender.

  “Nice to meet you, Grace.” Once again his deep voice hummed in my ear.

  Slightly disoriented, my gaze swung back to him. “What? Grace is my friend I came with tonight.”

  Scanning the dance floor, I spotted my friend, the one who promised to stay by my side the entire night, wiggling her ass against a tall blond quarterback type.

  “Let’s try this again. What’s your name?”

  “Cadence.” I blurted out, not remembering whether I was supposed to be Francesca or Isabella.

  The same confused expression that took over everyone’s face the first time they heard my name appeared in front of me.

  “But everyone calls me, Caddie.”

  His brows knitted together as the tip of his tongue skimmed across his bottom lip. “I like Cadence.”

  As heat flooded my cheeks, the corners of my mouth curled into a shy smile.

  “Do you have a last name, Cadence?”

  Don’t give him your real last name. He could be a serial killer. A very sexy serial killer, but a serial killer nonetheless.

  “Beaverhousen.”

  I watched a lot of Will and Grace during my recovery.

  Working hard to keep a straight face, he said, “Really? Beaverhousen?”

  “Are you mocking my family name?” I said with conviction.

  “I’d never do that. It’s nice to meet you Cadence Beaverhousen.”

  “Now it’s your turn to give it up.”

  He leaned in so close the tips of our noses were almost touching. “Luken Cockentail.”

  “That is not your real last name.”

  “Are you making fun of it?”

  “Oh no. I’d never do that.”

  “You outta see the family crest.”

  Laughter bubbled up and out of me. I couldn’t remember the last time I had this much fun.

  “You’ve got a great laugh,” Luken said.

  Inside chills were shooting to every part of my body while outside my skin was covered in hot prickling goose bumps. I had no idea what I was thinking, flirting with him. This guy… this kid had to be in his early to mid-twenties like everyone else here. He needed his eyes checked if he thought we were remotely close in age. It was time to peel Grace off of her quarterback and call it a night.

  “Dance with me,” Luken said.

  I looked at the bodies frantically bumping and grinding into one another.

  Crinkling my nose, I said, “I don’t really like to dance.”

  “Then why did you come to a dance club?”

  “My friend Grace talked me into it. But you don’t have to stay with me. Feel free to go ask someone else and get yo dance on.” Nervous laughter trickled out of me. “God that sounded stupid.”

  “You’re cute.”

  I had to get away from this Tiger Beat cover model before my hands started listening to the radio frequency broadcasting from my crotch.

  “Thank you… um… for that… and for the drink… and for the company. It was very nice meeting you. Have a good time dancing.”

  His head shook slightly. “Nah, I’ll wait.”

  “Wait for what?”

  “Until you cave to my charm and powers of persuasion, Ms. Beaverhousen.”

  “You’re quite confident. Some might say, cocky.” I winked.

  I winked! It was inadvertent, like an auto-response. I had to reel it in. Every time I’d made up my mind to get Grace and leave, Luken would speak, and that was that. I didn’t want to leave. But I had to steer clear of saying anything or doing anything remotely interpreted as flirting. I blinked my eyes rapidly, so it looked like I had something in them.

  “You alright there?” he said, stifling a laugh.

  “Yeah… um… dry contacts is all. So are you riding solo, as the kids say?”

  “Out with some buddies.” He tilted his chin to where Grace was still rubbing against the blond. “The overinflated dude dancing with the leggy brunette turned twenty-one today.”

  My throat began to close. Picking up the glowing green drink, I took a long draw from the skinny straw. Suddenly, the flashing lights stopped, and a blue glow fell over the entire place. The ear-piercing fast music was replaced by a slow acoustic version of “Stay with Me.”

  “This is a great version of this song. I wonder who’s singing,” I said, pivoting toward a more innocuous topic.

  “Angus and Julia Stone.”

  “Wow, you really know your music.”

  He pointed over my shoulder. “They put the names of the performers on the screen above the DJ.”

  “Oh.”

  His deep blue gaze held my chocolate brown one for several seconds. As sweaty bodies cleared the dance floor, I felt the touch of a warm hand wrap around mine.

  I looked down at our joined hands. “What are you doing?”

  “I like you. I like this song. And I really want to slow dance with you to this song.”

  In that moment something inside me clicked. For the first time in two years, I didn’t feel like I had that giant C hovering above my head. When Luken looked at me, I didn’t feel like a patient or a survivor. I felt like a woman. A desired woman. And even though I knew this fantasy would come to an end soon, I wanted to squeeze every bit of life out of it.

  As Luken led me to the center of the room, I noticed the fit of his white dress shirt as it stretched across his broad shoulders, falling down his toned body. His dark jeans hugged his firm ass and long legs perfectly. He had to be at least six feet three inches tall. Once we reached the dance floor, all rationale left my head. I stood awkwardly, searching for an appropriate place to touch him that didn’t scream middle-aged pervert. Taking my wrists, he placed my hands behind his neck. His right arm snaked around my waist while he rested his left hand on my hip. As we began to gently sway, he leaned down bringing his forehead t
o mine. Breathing in his fresh woodsy scent, I melted into the moment.

  As the music swirled around us, the age difference and everything else faded away. Pressing me closer to his chest, he brushed his lips over mine. Heat smoldered between my legs. He teased my bottom lip, nibbling from corner to corner before gently sucking on it. My fingers slid up into his light brown hair as my eyes fluttered shut. The flavor of beer mixed with melon had my head spinning. Pulling me closer, he deepened the kiss as he rocked into me. There was no denying his body’s reaction. The feel of his hard dick pressed against me was exhilarating. A low growl vibrated in Luken’s chest, causing a moan to escape me.

  Like a knife slicing through my head, the high-pitched shriek of a guitar shot across the room. Before I knew what was happening, the floor transformed from our isolated cocoon back into the loud club filled with flashing lights and gyrating bodies.

  With my senses flooding back, I realized what I must have looked like on the dance floor with this kid. Needy. Desperate. Cougar. My hands fell to his chest and I shoved. We held each other’s gaze for several seconds. Luken’s expression confused me. I couldn’t decipher whether it was disappointment that the moment was over or shock that he’d been making out with a much older woman. Either way, the spell was broken, and I needed to get out of there.

  “I’m… uh… sorry,” I stammered, stepping back.

  He came toward me. “For what?”

  “For… I can’t… I’ve got to go.” I turned and pushed through the crowd toward the exit.

  I didn’t search for Grace before bolting out of the club. It was like having a bucket of ice water dumped over my head when my hot sweaty skin hit the cool spring night air. Darting across the parking lot, I spotted a parked Uber car. I fished my phone out from my purse and sent Grace a text.

  Me: Got overheated. I’m fine. Going home. Have fun. Talk tomorrow.

  I slid into the backseat and slammed the door. By the time Luken burst out of the club, the car was pulling away from the curb. I forced myself not to look back at him. Focusing straight ahead, I leaned back, inhaled a deep breath, and tried to make sense of what happened back there.

  “IT IS TIME,” Grace said in her best Darth Vader voice, standing in the doorway of my office.

  For the rest of the weekend, I stuck to my story about being overcome by the extreme heat inside the club. It wasn’t a total lie. She didn’t need to know that Luken was the reason I overheated. She seemed to buy my story and never pushed for more information. My hope was that the subject of our little Friday night adventure was a closed book.

  I tilted back in my chair. “God, I forgot today was the start of the training class. Can’t you take notes and slip them to me during third period?”

  “You best adjust your attitude or the teacher will spank you with his ruler. And when I say ruler, I mean…”

  “I know what you mean.”

  Today was the first day of training with the new software. The bank had hired a software developer to design a program specifically for those of us who worked with the wealthier clientele. Grace and I had been at TransSouth for fifteen years. In that time we’d sat through many training sessions on the next “big thing” in financial analytics, only for it to be replaced six months later by the next “big thing” with more bells and whistles.

  Reluctantly, I pushed away from my desk and stood. “You and I both know this is a waste of time.”

  “There’s no one I’d rather waste time with than you, my love.”

  Draping her arm over my shoulder, we headed to Conference Room A, our home for the next two weeks.

  Grace and I arrived to find our two co-workers huddled around a table in the far corner of the room. The conference table had already been set up with four laptops and bulky binders loaded with what was sure to be the most boring information known to man. At the front of the room was a desk with a similar laptop and an overhead projector.

  “Baby girls, come over here and get in on this smorgasbord,” Clayton hollered across the room as he piled another cheese Danish onto his plate.

  Clayton had been with the bank for about four years. Everything about him was round—his bald head, his cheeks, and his body. He’d just turned thirty and was the perfect combination of kind, funny, and crazy in a good way. Susan was the complete opposite. She’d been at the bank almost as long as Grace and me. All these years working with her and there were only two things I knew about Susan. She was a snooty bitch and a bitchy snoot.

  “Well, well, well… nice to see y’all are fueling up for a day of fun. Where’d all the goodies come from?” I poured myself a cup of coffee.

  Clayton popped a grape in his mouth. “Guessing boss man.”

  “Doubtful.” Grace examined the pastry tray.

  It wasn’t that Mr. Morris, our boss, didn’t treat us well. He just wasn’t very thoughtful or generous with the bank’s money, and this was quite a spread for just the four of us.

  Susan took a seat at one of the computers. “If you ask me, sitting in here for two weeks is a complete squandering of my talents. Good morning, by the way.”

  “Well, no one asked you,” Clayton said. “All we need to do is pretend to listen to Poindexter for a couple of weeks. I plan on using my time wisely doing some ninja trip planning.” Clayton held up his iPhone. “By the time this little soirée is over, Clayton’s vacay is gonna be planned and booked.”

  “That’s a gross misuse of company time.” Susan snapped.

  Knowing Grace and I would want to sit next to each other, Clayton reluctantly took the seat next to Susan.

  Leaning into her personal bubble, which was huge, Clayton smiled. “You wouldn’t rat me out would you, Susie Cue? Because Ricardo, my big Puerto Rican boyfriend would not appreciate our vacation plans being fucked up.”

  Clearing her throat, Susan eased away. “As long as you don’t impede my training, I suppose it will be fine.”

  “Have either of you met the trainer?” Grace asked, taking her seat.

  Both Clayton and Susan just shook their heads in response.

  I settled into my spot next to Grace and flipped through the giant binder, not really paying attention to its content. “Well, this trainer is already fifteen minutes late. Not very impressive. The least he/she could do is be on time. We all could be working instead of sitting here wasting the day away. I think I’m going to go back to my office. Text me if Teacher shows up.”

  “I promise not to waste another minute of your time if you stay,” a deep voice said.

  My gaze snapped up to see narrow hips, broad shoulders, a chiseled jaw, and a pair of deep blue eyes.

  “Oh. My. God,” I said under my breath.

  “God. Bless. America,” Grace mumbled.

  Out the corner of my eye, I saw Clayton sit up taller. “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?”

  “What does that mean?” Susan whispered, looking over his shoulder.

  “Will you sleep with me tonight?”

  Luken was staring straight in my direction, but I couldn’t tell if he recognized me. The club had been pretty dark, and we probably spent only twenty minutes with each other. Although they were twenty incredible minutes. Suddenly a wave of annoyance washed over me. How the hell could he not recognize me? Our bodies were pressed together while his tongue was halfway down my throat.

  He leaned back on the desk and rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt. “I apologize for keeping you waiting. I stepped out for just a second and one of the tellers… Hannah, I think, cornered me with some computer questions.”

  Young, perky breasted, redheaded, chatty bitch.

  “Well, let’s get started. Good morning or at least I hope it’s a good morning.”

  “It is now. Damn,” Clayton muttered a little too loudly.

  A faint blush fell across Luken’s gorgeous face. Even in the dimly lit club, it was obvious how handsome he was but seeing him in the bright light took my breath away. I’d never seen a person who
se face was so perfectly symmetrical. Everything worked together to create one hell of a masterpiece.

  Clayton flailed his hands. “I was just playing with ya.”

  Staring at me, Luken said, “I like to be played with.” He held my gaze for a second before clapping his hands and rubbing his palms together. “Alrighty, let’s get this show on the road. I hope everyone is enjoying the breakfast.”

  “So you’re the one who brought the goodies?” Grace asked.

  “Yeah, I feel it’s very important to butter up the trainees on the first day of class.” He winked.

  “I’d like to butter him up,” Clayton muttered.

  “Intros… I’m Luken Schaffer, your LTTranSolution software best friend for the next couple of weeks. Obviously, you all know one another but if you don’t mind introducing yourselves, so I know who I’m dealing with.”

  “I’m Susan Maxwell.”

  Luken gave her a faint smile. “Nice to meet you, Susan.”

  “Grace Rodgers at your service.”

  Grace was sitting at an angle with her back to me, but I could feel her flirty smirk.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Luken said.

  Raising my coffee, I sunk behind the mug and further into my chair.

  Clayton puffed out his chest and announced. “Clayton Sebastian Montgomery.”

  “Wow, that’s quite a mouthful.”

  “You have no idea.” A big toothy grin crossed Clayton’s face at the same time a spray of coffee flew from my mouth. So much for hiding.

  There was no getting out of the introductions. I knew once Cadence hit his ears, the jig was up. Not wanting to ring any bells, I tried to wiggle my way around it.

  I swallowed hard and mumbled, “Caddie…”

  Luken narrowed his eyes. “Katy?”

  Close enough.

  Peeking over the rim of my mug, I nodded.

  “Oh, please… This is the grand and glorious, Ms. Cadence Fletcher.” Clayton made a dramatic sweeping gesture with his arm.

  Fuck me.

  Luken’s head tilted slightly to the side. “What an unusual and beautiful name.”

  Simultaneously, Grace and Clayton murmured, “Mmm.”

  “Well, I guess we better get started. I preloaded your laptops with the software. The first screen…”