He followed and yelled out, “Hey, Marlie, wait up.”
At her name, the woman turned and blinked at him. Though the evening had turned dark, the sprinkle of white fairy lights in the trees up and down the main drag, in addition to a few lampposts, added to the illumination from an overhead half moon.
“Do I know you?” she asked, looking leery as she gazed up at him.
He knew he didn’t give off the best first or even second impression. Hell, most people knew Damon as “Demon.” An aptly given nickname since the first time he’d stepped on the ice and punched Danny Benson in the face for stealing his puck.
“You don’t know me,” he told her. “But I couldn’t help overhearing you in the restaurant.”
“And?” She planted a hand on her hip, not seeming to feel the cold.
“Don’t you have a jacket?”
“Don’t you have anything better to do than bother strange women?”
“You’re not that strange.” He grinned.
She didn’t grin back.
“Okay, bad joke.” He cleared his throat. “Seems like you’re single.”
“I guess I am.” She looked more angry than sad about the fact.
“Well, how about going out a date with me? I don’t have a trust fund to ruin or mommy issues.”
Her lips quirked but just as quickly flattened. “Look, buddy?—”
“Damon.” Probably better he let her know the real him. The nice him.
“Damon. I appreciate it, but your timing sucks. To be honest, I’m pretty much done with men and dating.” She glanced up as the first snowflake of the evening fell and shivered. “Shoot. I left my jacket in the restaurant.”
“Wait here and I’ll grab it for you.”
“I—”
Before she could reject him again, he hustled back to the restaurant and fetched her coat from her table, nearly running Ben down while he squared up with his bill.
“Hey, watch it.”
Damon ignored him and his missing friend, now seated at their table.
“Damon, what the hell? Where are you going?”
“Be right back, Cade.” He left his buddy and hurried back to an irritated Marlie, not sure what he hoped to gain from the interaction.
The woman clearly had issues with her dickhead of an ex. And she’d already told him no to any future dates. She’d been pretty aggressive, not to mention mean, back in the restaurant.
His kryptonite.
“Here you go.” He gave her his best smile.
Not reassured, she eyed him warily as she put on her jacket. “Thanks, ah…”
“Damon.” Not good that he had to tell her his name. Again.
Most women saw him and committed his face and name to memory. Not that he was that handsome, exactly. But he had size and muscle that attracted attention.
From most people.
