Holding Strong
Page 59

 Lori Foster

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On her, the pout tempted far more so than on the two ladies he’d sent from his table. With her sky-blue eyes, straight, narrow nose, smooth cheekbones and that full, soft mouth... Yeah, she could make him lose his thoughts. “Same here.”
“Now we both know that’s not true.”
“Is since I sent them off.” Even better than her face was her body—all sweet, supple, curvy perfection. He needed to get his head on straight, and fast. “So how about we keep each other company?”
She seemed to think about it for far too long, making his left eye twitch. Not since high school had he been rejected, mostly because he knew how to hedge his bets. If it hadn’t been for Denver, he might not have ever approached her like this—
“I would love the company.” Lifting her glass, she said, “And another drink.”
Score. Stack ordered them each a drink, considered asking her to move to a table with him, but decided it’d probably be safer to stay at the bar.
He’d just tipped up a fresh beer when she said, “Do you have a date for the wedding?”
He choked, damn it. Grabbing for a napkin and trying to ignore the way she rubbed-pat-rubbed between his shoulder blades, he concentrated on getting his breath back. Not easy when her hand stroked down, then paused at the small of his back.
Even after he caught his wind, she stayed too close, her hand still touching him, the warmth of it sinking right through his T-shirt.
If he thought much about her small, soft hand on him, he’d get a boner for sure.
He cleared his throat. “Sorry. Went down the wrong pipe.”
“I was talking about Cannon and Yvette’s wedding.” She tipped her head. “Not asking for your hand in marriage.”
Jesus. Much more of that and he’d be strangled again. “I never take a date to a wedding.” Best to clear that up right now.
“Because women get ideas?”
The back of his neck prickled. “Yeah. Something like that.” He cast a look at Denver, but he and Leese had their heads together, both of them looking far too serious.
No help there.
He hated to ask, because he just knew it’d be a trap, but he heard himself say, “What about you? Got a string of guys waiting for the word?”
“Like you, I hesitate to go with anyone.” Finally she retreated, leaning out of his space to sip at her drink.
But with her body aimed toward his—for the sake of conversation, maybe—and her legs so long, her knees bumped the outside of his thigh.
Since when did an innocent touch like that become so hot?
Since the knees belonged to Vanity Baker.
Thank God she wore jeans. He’d seen her in itty-bitty skirts and shorts and it never failed to inspire lust.
“Stack?”
“Hmm?”
The smile flickered into place again. That, too, was a turn-on, how her lips always twitched and one side went up first, then the other, as if she fought every grin.
“You’re here to keep me engaged in conversation, but you’re not holding up your end of the bargain.”
“Right. Sorry.” What the hell had they been discussing? Oh, yeah, Cannon’s upcoming wedding. “You hate to take dates to weddings, too? How come?”
She lifted her glass as if in a toast. “I lose my better judgment when I drink too much.”
He eyed her half-empty glass. Do tell.
“So it’s risky to have a guy in the line of fire. But I’m the maid of honor and I’m going to look pathetic to be there solo.”
Oh hell. He felt the noose closing.
Very softly, she said, “You did run off Leese.”
No fucking way! “You were going to ask him?”
Again she sipped. “Actually, I think once I mentioned the wedding he would have asked me.”
Knowing what he did now, Stack couldn’t stop obsessing on how much she might have imbibed already. “And you’d have accepted?” She deserved better than a new fighter with a shit attitude.
So what was he? A better-grade fighter with a shit attitude?
When she sipped again, self-preservation sank in. Stack took the glass from her and set it out of reach.
Her eyes flared. “You didn’t just do that.”
“Did.” He braced an arm on the bar and leaned into her. “Stay away from Leese.”
This time when she tilted her head, her hair drifted over his wrist. “Giving me an order?”
“Call it a concerned suggestion.”
“I’ll think about it,” she said, and her gaze was on his mouth, making it harder for him to breathe. Just...making it harder all around.