by Lacey Black
“So I’m sure you’re just as shocked by this as I am,” he starts, strumming his thumb on the pitted wood. “What are the odds?” The grin he gives me instantly makes my panties damp.
“Very slim, I imagine. I am still trying to wrap my head around the fact you’re Rigsby.” I glance up from watching his hands to staring into his eyes. They’re hazel with a dark ring around the edge and flecks of gold sprinkled throughout the irises. His eyes are actually beautiful in a unique way.
“Well, like I said earlier, I’m Royce Rigsby, but most everyone here calls me Rigsby. I’ve been the manager of Elevate for a few years now. I was born and raised in southern Illinois and after I left the Army, I moved here to be with my mom and brother. My birthday is March twenty-third, in case you want to buy me a gift,” he says with a wink, “and I think running is fun. I like to play soccer, but think golf is the most boring game on the face of the planet, and I truly despise, with a deep passion, pineapple on pizza.”
“With a resume like that, how can you be single?” I ask with a laugh, but deep down, I’m serious. Why hasn’t a woman snatched up this man? He’s funny and clearly a family man, if moving to a new state to be closer to his mom and brother is an indication. He has a decent job and can support himself. Plus, he’s probably the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen with my own two eyes.
Royce just shrugs. There’s something that flashes in the depths of those hazel eyes, but he covers it up too quickly for me to determine what it was.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” I reply, though I’m not really sure we’re talking about the same kind of fun. My fun consists of a good book and a bubble bath. By the way he naturally flirts and exhumes sexuality, I picture his fun a little…dirtier.
“Why are you blushing?” he asks, the corner of his lip turned upward in a half-smirk.
“No reason,” I stammer, willing the warmth in my cheeks to subside. “It’s warm out here.”
“Mmhmm,” he sings before throwing me a wink. “So tell me about you, Bestie Tami with an I, which I knew wasn’t your name. You didn’t feel like a Tami.”
“Known a lot of Tamis, have you?” I tease.
“A few.”
Damn, that cocky grin makes me want to…kiss him.
“Anyway, you now know I’m the principal of Grace Private School, which I love. You also know where I live, which is a little creepy,” I add with my own wink.
“And that you like tequila.”
“Actually, I really don’t,” I reply, barking out a laugh when his face registers his surprise. “That night was a particularly rough one with a horrible date, and well, I’m not much of a drinker at all. My friend, Sabrina, left that bottle at my house a while ago, and I felt I needed something to calm my frayed nerves.”
“And then you spilled it.”
An easy giggle slips from my throat. “I did. I barely tasted the first sip before I dropped it.”
“Because some hot stud was running by and got you all flustered?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Only, he has no idea how close he is to the truth. Not that I’m going to tell him that.
I shake my head and smile. “Awfully full of yourself there, Royce.”
He stares across the table at me, the faintest smile playing on his lips. “I like it when you say my name.”
“Royce?”
His smile widens. “It sounds better on your lips than from any other pair I’ve ever heard.”
Even though I’m returning his grin, I shake my head and glance down at my hands. “You’re too charming for your own good.”
“So does that mean you want to hang out with me later?”
I almost say yes. Like right away, no hesitation, but then I remember the plans I made with Sabrina. “Actually, I’m not available tonight.”
“Hot date?”
I open my mouth, but no words come out.
When I shut it quickly, he adds, “That’s a yes.”
“It’s an I don’t know what it is. My friend, Sabrina, invited me to dinner. Apparently, there’s these two guys who work at a coffee shop down the way from the boutique she works at, and she invited them to join us. It’s not a date.”
Royce gives me look. “Oh, sweetheart, the moment those guys take one look at you, it’ll be a date.” When I don’t reply, he reaches over and swipes a lock of hair off my forehead that has escaped from my ponytail, much like he did earlier up on the mountain. “I kinda like the way you blush.”
And cue an even deeper blush…
“How is Jack?” I ask, steering the conversation away from my later plans.
Royce gives me a hard laugh and shakes his head. “He already owns my place. I came out of my room this morning for work and found him lying on his back on the couch with his paws up, airing out his balls,” he tells me, painting a vivid photograph.
The giggle slips from my lips so effortlessly, so quickly. “It is warm out.”
He’s already shaking his head as he picks up a leaf from the table and tosses it to the ground. “Not that warm. He just likes showing off his junk.” He glances down at his watch. “I hate to cut this short, but I have to get back to work.”
A sadness sweeps through me, one I wasn’t expecting, as we get up from the picnic table and stand side by side. “Well, it was nice to officially meet you, Royce,” I say, extending my hand.
The moment his skin touches mine and wraps around it, an electrical charge courses through my blood. My nipples tingle and blood swooshes through my ears, a reaction I’ve never experienced from a handshake. “It’s nice to officially meet you too,” he replies, his eyes drinking me in as if I were a cold glass of water on a hot summer day.
Nervously, I glance down, breaking our eye contact. Yet, I can still feel them on my skin like a caress, heating my skin with every passing second.
“Thanks for choosing Elevate, Quinn.” Something in the way he says those words lets me know he’s not just talking about the ziplining.
“You’re welcome. Maybe I’ll see you around?” I ask, hoping I was able to hide the tinge of desperation I suddenly feel.
The grin he sends me causes butterflies to flutter in my stomach. “Oh, Bestie Tami with an I, you can guarantee it.”
Then he steps forward, and I swear he’s going to kiss me. The breath catches in my throat, and I realize suddenly how badly I’d like Royce to kiss me. So bad, in fact, I find myself leaning in just the slightest. His eyes darken as they drop to my lips. My tongue snakes out, nervously wetting my bottom lip.
When he leans in, I’m disappointed his lips only graze against my cheek in a featherlight brush, but the damage is done. I catch a whiff of his earthy, musky scent that causes wetness to surge through my body, landing between my legs. His big hand wraps around my upper arm, holding me steady with just the slightest touch.
“Have a good evening, Quinn,” he whispers, his voice sounding raw and raspy.
I nod, suddenly unable to find my words. He releases my arm, allowing me the opportunity to grab my keys and phone. I try to ignore the tremble in my fingers. I give him a smile before turning and heading off toward the parking lot, the feel of his eyes with me the entire time.
***
“Oh my God, the hot guy is Rigsby! Rigsby is the hot guy!” I holler into the phone the moment my best friend answers.
“Well, hello to you too, Q,” Sabrina giggles, as I suck in a deep breath of air, and groan.
“I’m serious, Rina. What am I going to do?”
“First off, you can start at the beginning because I have no idea what you’re going on about.”
Sighing, I flop back on my bed, right on top of the shirt I picked out to wear tonight. “Rigsby, Sabrina. I met him,” I whisper.
“The texting guy, right? How did that happen? Tell me, tell me,” she asks, completely enthralled.
“His name is Royce Rigsby, and he works at Elevate. He figured out who I was based on our texts because I told him I was going there,” I t
ell her without stopping to breathe.
“Okay, so how does this hot guy play into it?”
I groan, thinking back on the two times I saw Royce standing in front of my house when he was out for his run. “There was this guy, earlier in the week, who ran past my house. I dropped my tumbler of tequila and he stopped to make sure I was okay.”
“You were drinking tequila?”
“Would you focus, please? Yes, I decided to have a few sips because that was all that was left in that bottle you left. Well, I saw him running, and oh my goodness, Rina, I’d never seen a more gorgeous sight than that. Long strides and a muscular, yet lean body. And don’t get me started on his face. Even from a distance, I could tell he was breathtakingly beautiful. I ended up dropping the glass and spilling my drink.”
“I’d have dropped my panties,” she says, almost absently.
I snicker, because it’s such a Sabrina reply. “Anyway, when I came home the next day from work, there was a bottle of tequila sitting on the porch.”
“Okay, so a hot runner gave you a bottle of tequila. Did you give him your cookie in return?” she asks.
“Sabrina,” I chastise.
“It’s a legit question, Q. So tell me the rest,” she instructs.
“So when I went to Elevate today, it was the hot runner guy who was taking us up the mountain. He’s Rigsby, or Royce.”
She’s quiet for a few long seconds before she whispers, “Did you have sex on the mountain?”
I growl in frustration. “Seriously, Rina?”
She sighs. “I’ll take that as a no. Bummer, because I’d totally love to hear the details on that one.”
Glancing at the clock, I realize I need to jump in the shower. “I’m gonna go so I can get ready.”
“I’ll be there at six fifty. Oh, and wear sexy panties. Or no panties at all!” she adds quickly.
“Goodbye, Sabrina,” I reply on a sigh before hanging up my phone.
I glance at my best pair of jeans, which are a tight pair of skinny ones I’ve only worn twice. I’m pairing them with a deep purple top you can see through, a black tank underneath, and the only pair of four-inch spikey black heels I own. I usually wear two-inch kitten heels all day or flats, but I’ve decided to give this night out some real effort. I’m even going to wear my hair down and use that special curling iron Sabrina got me for Christmas last year that adds big, soft curls.
Why am I doing this?
Not because of Lance or the other coffee house guy, whatever his name is. Because something inside of me cries out in feminine despair. I’m so used to professional attire and buns in my hair, I just want to feel like a woman tonight. A pretty, sexy, single woman.
Even if it’s completely out of my comfort zone.
After a thirty-minute shower, where I scrubbed, shaved, and lotioned every part of my body, I slip on my clothes and start my hair and makeup. Again, that’s something else I’ve always done just basics on, but tonight, I’m going with a smoky purple shadow and extra layers of mascara. Instead of my usual lip gloss, I choose a dusty rose-colored lipstick and add a second layer.
By the time I’m finished, my doorbell is ringing, announcing Sabrina’s arrival. She lets herself in using the spare key I gave her and makes a beeline for my bedroom. “I swear to God, if you’re wearing yoga pants and a—” she says, but stops the moment she steps inside my bedroom. “Holy shit, Quinn.”
I glance down at my outfit, suddenly worrying my gut is spilling out over the top of my jeans or my makeup resembles that of a hooker’s. “Is it bad?” I ask, my eyes wide with worry.
“Badass! Holy shit, you look so hot! Those guys are gonna be eating out of the palm of your hand,” she says as she comes all the way into the room, and I take in her appearance. Sabrina’s wearing a pair of black skinny jeans with strappy sandals, as well as a black Johnny Cash fitted tank top with rhinestones. Her raven hair is pull up in a high, sleek ponytail that cascades down her back. Her makeup is dark, her lips painted a deep red wine color. She’s gorgeous, as always.
I glance down at my outfit, feeling completely out of place. Running a shaky hand down my side, I turn back to look in the mirror. “You sure?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely, Q. No way are you going home alone tonight,” she replies, a wolfish grin on her gorgeous face. “Girlfriend’s getting lucky tonight,” she sings, reaching out and grabbing my arm. “Let’s go. I want to keep them waiting, but only a few minutes. You ready?”
Exhaling, I let her lead me through my house and out the front door. “I suppose.”
And just like that, we’re off to Pork’s for a Saturday night out.
Chapter Nine
Royce
I park my truck in the lot next to Pork’s and turn off the ignition. I don’t spy my brother’s vehicle yet, but I’m a few minutes early, so I’m not worried. I step up to the heavy wooden door, the old country music filtering through the doorway the moment I give it a tug. The familiarity of one of my favorite joints hits me as I cross the threshold, my eagerness for dinner and drinks with my brother front and center.
“Hey, Royce!” Lana hollers from the bar, offering me a warm grin. The moment she says my name, half a dozen ladies turn and lock their eyes on me. It’s something I’m used to, and I’m not just being cocky. Ladies love me. What can I say? I’m a sexy motherfucker.
“Eating or drinking?” Wendy, a waitress I may have slept with when I first discovered this place after moving to town, asks as she approaches. She gives me a smile, but it lacks the fuck-me vibe the others are throwing my way. Wendy’s married now and not interested in taking a trip down bedroom memory lane with me.
“Eating, Wendy. Rueben’s on his way,” I tell her, as she points to a high table along the front wall. “Thanks,” I add when she sets two menus down.
“The usual?” she asks, not bothering to get out her pad to write it down.
“Yep,” I confirm before she turns and walks away. Her ass is nice in her tight jeans, but I realize it’s not the ass I’d like to be looking at. The image of Quinn in her proper khaki shorts is etched in my mind like an engraving on a piece of gold. It ain’t going anywhere.
I open the menu, even though I don’t need it. I already know what I’m having, but it helps me pass the time until my brother gets here. It also keeps my hands busy, so I’m not tempted to pull out my phone and text Quinn. She’s on her date tonight, or whatever you want to call it. Even if she doesn’t think it’s one, the guy she’s meeting will no doubt disagree.
“Sorry I’m late,” my brother says, as he slides onto the pub chair across from me. “I was working and lost track of time.”
I snort. “You’re always working.” It’s the truth. My younger brother by two years is one of the hardest working guys I know. He’s always on his computer, monitoring security threats for the government. It’s some big fancy job he was offered last fall, and he hasn’t looked back since. He gets to work from home, which is pretty great, and has only needed to travel twice in the last year. Both times Cricket, his fiancée, was able to go with him.
Rueben shrugs and pushes his glasses up on his nose. “Not always,” he replies absently as he looks over the menu.
“Glad to hear it. I’d be disappointed if you were. You gotta get your dick wet every now and again,” I tease.
Rueben rolls his eyes. “You mean like you?” Without even glancing up from his menu, he asks, “How many was it this week? Two? Three women?”
My gut churns with his insinuation. Mostly because he’s right. Not about this week, in particular, but in general. It’s nothing for me to go out and find a lady or two to keep me company. Hell, a year or two ago, it was pretty much a given. Every night, out with friends and taking home whoever was willing. Sometimes I’d see them again, sometimes not, but I never felt guilty about it.
Until now.
I think about Quinn and how my body responded each time I saw her. Sure, it was a given because of how stunningly beautiful she is
, but it was also more than that. I was drawn to her smile and laugh almost as much as I was her ass and legs. For the first time, I really see the whole package, and not just tits and ass.
“Actually,” I start, clearing my throat and wishing I had my drink, “there haven’t been any this week.”
I feel his eyes on me, but I keep my gaze down. “Seriously? You sick?”
Shrugging my shoulders, I reply a quick no as Wendy drops off my beer and turns to my brother. “Same for you?”
“Yep.”
I take a pull from my bottle and scan the room. “No, I’m not sick,” I answer, setting my beer back down on the table. “Maybe I’m just taking a break.”
When Rueben doesn’t reply, I glance across the table to find his wide eyes locked on me. “Wow, never thought I’d see the day.”
“What day?” I ask, picking at the label on my beer.
“The day where a woman who catches your attention actually keeps it.” The asshole gives me a cocky smirk as Wendy sets his bottle in front of him.
“What are we eating?” she asks, grabbing her notepad.
“Burger and fries,” I answer.
“Same,” Rueben says, slipping his menu behind the napkin holder. “You’ve already told me you met someone. Tell me about her,” he adds the moment Wendy takes off to place our order.
An uneasy feeling settles in my stomach. Technically, Quinn isn’t anyone to me. She’s someone I’ve been randomly texting, and I can count on one hand how many times we’ve met in person, including the times we didn’t know who the other one was. Sighing, I know he’s not going to let this go until I give him something. “Her name is Quinn, and she’s a principal at a private school in town.”
Rueben takes a drink before asking, “How’d you meet her?”
I open my mouth, but not sure how to reply. Do I tell him about the accidental texting or the front porch meet? Even telling my brother how I met this girl seems complex. This is exactly why I don’t do relationships. They’re too complicated with strings and expectations. The fun fizzles out the moment feelings get involved.
