She snickered again. Making her laugh was beginning to feel more valuable than the thrill of adrenaline. “Actually I’ve just been referring to you as Smooth Talker, not too bad.”
“It’s Sanders. I’m Sanders.”
She stopped and her gaze narrowed before she tossed out her hands to the side. “Fine. I’m Roxanne.”
“See, that wasn’t too hard,” I teased and then immediately started singing the famous song by The Police that shared her name. She gasped and covered my mouth with her hands after a few people stopped to stare at me.
“Stop. Oh my God!” She was laughing though and I continued through her fingers. “Shh. Stop,” she pleaded with a grin, casting looks from side to side.
I pulled her closer. Her laughter stopped as her hands fell to her sides. Her gaze grew heavy as it dropped to my lips. I’d pay money to know if she was replaying our earlier kissing like I was.
She cleared her throat and stepped back. I gave her space but kept her hands grasped in mine.
“You know that song is about a hooker, right?” she asked with one arched eyebrow.
I frowned in thought before saying, “Actually, I think it’s about a man who’s fallen in love with a woman and is telling her she can forget about her dark past and just focus on their love.”
Her mouth parted slightly and she studied my face like she was just seeing it for the first time. A moment later, she cleared her throat and the cool mask she wore was back in place.
“Most people call me Roxy anyway,” she said in a soft voice and pulled me to start walking again.
I hoped I hadn’t accidentally offended her as she grew quiet again. But at least I had her name. A name that suited her perfectly and now I couldn’t see her as anyone else but beautiful Roxy. “Roxy, The Beautiful Woman Who Stole My Heart On the Dance Floor. But I suppose I could shorten it to just Roxy. Roxy and Sanders. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
I snuck a glance to find her shaking her head with a quiet smile. “You’re one of those painfully optimistic people, aren’t you?” she asked.
“I just know how fast life can change. I prefer to live in the moment.”
She went quiet again and I could almost see her digesting those words as her brow furrowed and lips pursed. “Life can change in an instant. We agree on that.” Her free hand fiddled with the edge of her jacket as we walked.
“My best friend deals with that by trying to control every aspect of his life,” I said. “I go the other route.”
“What do you mean?”
“I like adventures. Skydiving, bungee jumping, base jumping. Really anything that involves a waiver and a free fall.”
“Oh, okay. So you’re a crazy person.” She softened her jibe by poking me in the ribs.
“Nah. Just an adrenaline junky.”
It had always been like that. The moment the darkness started to creep in the edges of my mind, I pushed myself to some new limit to clear the fog. I had just been about to explain that many of my adventures were part of my job so I didn’t seem as flaky but she spoke up first.
“I think I’m more like your buddy,” she said.
“Ah, a control freak.” I kept my tone light so she knew I teased.
“I never thought about it like that,” she said. Again her voice got that airiness to it, like her thoughts were far away. “I guess, like you, I know things can be taken away without a moment’s notice, so it’s best to be prepared.”
Her words rang so true. My life had changed in a moment more than once and seeing her so guarded made me understand that she had experienced darkness too. Where I spun out, she held on tighter.
“It must be exhausting to try and prepare for every situation. Plus, where’s the fun in that?”
“You and I are very different people.” She said it with a forced smile that made me feel sad but I couldn’t identify why.
I struggled for what to say next. I wanted to learn everything about her but sensed the more I pushed, the more she’d clam up. As we walked, her head was on a swivel as she took in the tall buildings and shops of downtown Denver. Even this late in the evening the streets were still fairly crowded and the warm summer night held that magic of endless possibilities.
“Are you from a big city?” I asked her when she stopped to study a colorful mural painted on the side of a brick building.
She shook her head without taking her eyes off the street art.
“Medium sized?”
Finally, she turned to narrow her eyes at me.
“Small town?” I ventured again.
She hesitated to debate her answer, then said, “Small town. Am I gawking?”
Yes. And it was adorable. “Nah, just curious. You’re hard to get info out of, you know that?”
When she turned toward me, her brows were furrowed and she fidgeted with the cuffs of her leather jacket again.
“Sanders.” I didn’t like how she said my name with such finality. “I’m leaving in just a few hours. It would probably be better if we both understood that tonight can’t go past this.” She gestured to the city around us. “Let’s just keep things light, and no more significant details about our normal lives. Just be in this moment, like you said, okay?”
My gaze roamed over her face, taking in the serious squint to her eyes and her full lips, slightly turned down. She must have felt this connection too. There was no way this was one-sided. But she was holding back, as though afraid to reveal too much. I would respect her wishes, even if I felt an ache start to burn in my chest.
“Fair enough,” I said lightly. “But we’re still getting ice cream.”
“Oh. You had better provide. Never tease a woman with treats unless you plan to deliver.”
“I would never.” I linked my arm back through hers.
“Yeah, you’re way too smooth. I knew a guy like you once,” she said. “A real Romeo.”
“I guarantee you’ve never met anyone like me, baby.” I said it with over-the-top swagger.
She shoved me and rolled her eyes. “You really are too much.”
“So this guy you knew—”
She held up her hand. “Nice try,” she said. “But we won’t ruin such a nice time by bringing up the past.”
“You’re a tough cookie, aren’t you?” I asked her and squeezed her hand.
“Just ask the guy who told me to smile once,” she said. “You’ll have trouble though because his jaw is still wired shut.”
She said it so casually I almost missed the joke. I threw my head back and laughed. When I was done, she was focused on the ground, her hair hiding her face. She reminded me of Skip, in that she didn’t say much, but when she did, it was usually perfectly on point.
“Ah, nuts,” I said as we came to a stop in front of the closed ice cream shop. “I didn’t think this through.”
Little did she know that not thinking things all the way through was very much my MO. Maybe there was some freedom in keeping things light tonight after all. I didn’t have to tell her about how I almost ruined my business this weekend and she could keep looking at me like I was a dessert she rarely let herself indulge in.
She studied the closed storefront. “You’re a terrible tour guide.”
I guffawed. “Okay. Challenge accepted. I know where we can try next. How are your feet?”
She glanced to her shoes. “My feet?”
“Are you good to keep walking?” I asked, she wasn’t wearing heels though, just Chucks.
Her mouth opened and closed with a shake of her head. “Lord, they don’t make them like you where I’m from,” she said.
“Considerate?”
“Something like that,” she mumbled and then added, “I’ve got hours of walking in these bad boys.”
We walked for a while passing storefronts closed for the day and bars with people spilling out. We found a food truck that served fried ice cream and spilt a paper dish under strung lights. We stood close, faces near and she told me about her best friend a
nd a book club she was in. Or at least it sounded like some sort of book club, she was hazy on the details. I told her about Skip and growing up together in a suburb of Denver. Her dry, caustic humor had me cackling more than once. She wasn’t quick to smile but that made it all the more rewarding when she did.
There was something about the way she listened to me that told me she understood me inherently, on some base level. She intrigued me. She kept so much hidden it only drove me to want more.
“My throat is raw,” she said. “I can’t remember the last time I talked this much.”
I took the empty dish and tossed it in a nearby trash can. Our time together was coming to an end.
“No?” I asked. I felt my nerves taking my words.
“I’m not usually a big talker,” she said.
“I am.”
“I gathered that.” She smiled at me. “You’d think not being able to share many details we’d have run out of things to say.” She yawned widely.
But we never stopped talking the whole night. Not once, sometimes we talked over each other, two separate conversations seeming to happen at the same time, back and forth, weaved like intricate knitting. I was so close to telling her I needed to know more. A phone number. A freaking social media account, I’d take anything.
“My flight is in three hours,” she said. “I still have to pack my suitcase and get to the airport.”
My heart constricted. Despite my best attempts all night long, she wouldn’t share more than surface-level details. Skip once told me I could charm Sasquatch into buying a winter coat, but she didn’t crack at all.
“Where’s that flight to again?” I asked, carefully not looking at her.
She tsked. “Nice try.”
“Not even a last name?” Panic made my voice shaky. Fear gripped me like a jumper three sizes too small. This couldn’t be the end. I leaned forward and grabbed her hands. “We can’t end like this. Tell me we’ll see each other again.”
Her face shuttered, emotion slipping into a cool mask.
“You don’t know me.” Her head shook solemnly. “The truth is, I’m never so open. I never … I’m not normally like this,” she finished.
“We cannot let this be the last time we talk to each other.”
“We’re from different worlds,” she said sadly.
This was more than just dancing and kissing. This felt like the most important thing. I couldn’t let her go without hope. There had to be more for us.
We walked in silence back to the front of her hotel.
“Thank you for a wonderful night, Sanders. I’ll never forget it.”
When I looked up at her, my sadness must have shown clear. She reached out and brushed a thumb over my cheek.
“I’m not ready for it to end,” I said.
“It’s not meant to be,” she said firmly but her voice shook.
I stood up straighter. My heart started to race with hope.
“My dad told me he knew the moment he met my mom she was the one. He was in Australia for a work trip and happened to pass her on the street. He literally stopped her just to talk to her.” Her eyes widened slightly at my words. “At first she told him it wasn’t meant to be. He always insisted luck brought them together because they happened to be at that exact place at that moment.”
“You make your luck in life,” she said.
“That’s what she told him!” I hadn’t meant to shout it but I was too excited to keep this locked down. How couldn’t she see that this connection was so real? I calmed my voice. “And so he stayed. Left his entire life for her. He showed up at her house every day for a month to help her dad on his farm. She called him ‘Farmer Charmer.’”
My voice tightened talking about my parents. They weren’t a topic I ever brought up, but if I didn’t try everything, I would regret it.
“That’s very sweet. They sound lovely. They really do.” She smiled softly.
“He never gave up and eventually they got married. They were meant to be.”
“But life isn’t destiny or magic.” As she spoke, she looked just past my shoulder, thinking about something that waited for her back home. “Life is about showing up and working hard.”
I grabbed her hands and squeezed them. “You feel this.” It wasn’t a question.
She let out a soft sigh before she met my eyes. “I feel a connection too. But look, our lives are totally different. We live worlds apart,” she said.
“I can’t believe our paths would cross like this only for this to be it.” I brought her closer to me. Her gaze flicked over my face and she dropped her head to my shoulder.
“I’m not one for blind leaps of faith. There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” Her voice was muffled and her body trembled against me.
I wrapped my arms tight around her. That tiny sign of emotion gave me hope that this was her fear talking. That she wanted more.
“Roxy,” I said. “Can’t we at least try?”
She straightened off me abruptly and stepped back. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll get on my knees and beg.”
“Please, no. I don’t doubt that you would but this hurts me too. I’m just trying to be smart about this. If you believe it’s meant to be, then hold on to that. Okay? Maybe I’m wrong.” She fixed her fringe and spoke one last sentence. “I hope I’m wrong.”
I ran a hand over my mouth. I couldn’t speak, my emotions were too close to the edge. What else could I do? She needed to go. I wasn’t going to make her feel bad. Was this karma for my screwups?
“I’m going to go.” I closed my eyes against the pain as she spoke. “Thank you. You have no idea what this night meant to me. You’re amazing.” She pressed a palm to my cheek.
I leaned into the touch unable to watch her leave. When I opened my eyes again, she was in the lobby of the hotel. She looked back and her eyes shone as she gave me one last sad wave.
I stood there staring after her for longer than I cared to admit, hoping she’d come running out. But she never did. Whatever held her back was bigger than our instant connection.
I stumbled back across the street to the bar where my car was parked. My heart ached in my chest and I wondered how many hits it could take before it gave out.
Carillo’s was shut down for the night, the parking lot mostly empty. I was so lost in my head that I didn’t see Ty, the bouncer, until we practically bumped into each other.
“Sanders. What’s up, my brother from down under?” He pronounced under as “undah.”
“Hey, Ty,” I mumbled, getting my keys from my pocket.
“What’s wrong, man? I’ve never seen you frown before.”
“I met someone.”
“The girl from your work? I saw you talking.” He pointed to where I returned the jacket to Roxy. “I take it that things didn’t go so well.”
“Not so much.” I turned to go to my car when his words hit me. “What do you mean, from work? I just met her here tonight,” I said.
“Really? I assumed she was part of your crew since she gave me William’s name to get in.”
My head shot up. “She did?”
He looked around, my sudden shift in mood had him suspicious. “Yeah, she said she was with Outside the Box, or maybe she just said she knew him. Sorry, man, I see a lot of people in one night, I can’t remember exactly what she said.”
“I could kiss you!” I grabbed the big man’s shoulders and shook him.
He chuckled but backed away wearily. “Check with William. I’m sure that she said she knew him.”
My heart raced with hope. I hadn’t lost this day after all. I’d call Skip, AKA William—my best friend and co-owner of Outside the Box—first thing in the morning. There was still a chance.
Roxy may not believe in destiny, but I did. And the universe just smacked me in the head with the mother of all signs.
Chapter 5
Roxy
The axe went flying out of my hand and the handle hit the target. It flopped to
the ground with a sad thump. Instead of our usually scheduled meetup, we’d decided on this outing last minute. Even though Kim was at rehearsal, Suzie, Gretchen, and I took the SWS on the road and headed out to Knoxville for a change. They’d been hammering me for details ever since I got back yesterday afternoon. I slept the rest of Saturday instead of preparing for my meeting with Vincent this week to discuss my promotion. They let me be, but now on Sunday they were done waiting patiently.
Tons of students milled about the surprisingly packed hipster hangout, making us feel ancient. There was a bar with a few local brews on tap and lanes designated for throwing axes. Beer and weapons seemed like a risky business venture, but even I had to admit it was fun. Us scorned women typically have a lot of energy to burn. Though tonight I wasn’t feeling very scorned, more sorry.
“And then I packed my bag and left for the airport.” The next axe flew out of my hand and hit the target but didn’t stick. “This is stupid,” I mumbled. I shook out my arm not at all surprised at my total lack of athletic ability.
Gretchen walked forward in the lane next to mine. “You just left? Without even getting his number?” Her axe flipped smoothly in the air and glided down the lane as though guided.
THUNK.
Hers hit the center of the target and stuck with the satisfying thunk I had been hoping for. Of course.
“Ugh,” I growled.
“You warmed it up for me.” She winked and fixed the oversized sunglasses propped in her fiery red hair.
“But no. I didn’t even get a last name,” I explained. My stomach soured remembering his face as I walked away.
There had been a magic to the night that I couldn’t wrap my mind around, let alone explain. It would sound hokey if I tried to. But when he spoke about the song Roxanne, I felt like he could see right into my past. When he held my hand for every person to see, I felt proud. And when he spoke about his parents, I felt … like I would disappoint him. He was so hopeful but I couldn’t be enough for him when I had a whole life here to maintain.
We had only just met. It didn’t make sense.
I wasn’t sure how we’d even fit together. And that was getting ahead of myself. These two seemed perfectly comfortable with who they were meant to be. Ever since I left the Iron Wraiths, it was like I was trying to find my place. All I knew was that I couldn’t screw up the life that I had built up. I wouldn’t go back to my old life.
The One That I Want (Scorned Women Society Book 3) Page 3
