* * *
Ilove Britt.I really do. I love her so much I don’t blame her when a cowboy with a big, shiny buckle and an even bigger hat comes to our table and sweeps her off herfeet.
His name isDane.
OrDax.
Or…something that starts withD.
The point is, Britt’sgone.
It doesn’t take long before the other girls I’m with have caught the eyes of other wannabe cowboys and left the table. They all offered the requisiteAre you sure?before walking away, and I reassured them it was fine. I like being alone, and I happen to be really good atit.
My fingers are slick with condensation as I peel the wrapper off my beer and rub the wet paper into a tiny, hard ball. I flick the small wad and watch it roll across the table and onto thefloor.
The slow-dancing couple from earlier is back on the dance floor, but now they’re moving to the tempo. Even though they’re moving appropriately this time, there’s something different about them. Some kind of sensuality. Maybe it’s magic. Or chemistry. Whatever it is, they haveit.
I push the bottle to the middle of the table. Time for me to leave. I may like to be alone, but I don’t care for torture. I stand, grab my purse from the table, andspin.
I take a step away from the table and bump into something. Or, rather,someone.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…” My sentence hangs unfinished as I look at the person I’ve runinto.
I must have a thing for smiles, because that’s what grabs me first. The left side of his mouth pulls up more than the right. It’s a happy grin. Immediately I picture a light shining from somewhere inside him. An inherent, ambientlight.
He extends one long, deeply tanned arm. “No worries. I’m Isaac.” The smile doesn’twaver.
I place my hand in his. “I’m Aubrey.”Am I smiling? My face feels numb.My whole body feels numb.God, I hope I’m smiling. That’s what a normal person woulddo.
“Nice to meet you, Aubrey.” He nods when he says my name. “I hope you aren’t leaving. I was just coming over here to offer you one of these.” He lifts his left hand to show fingers intertwined around the necks of two beerbottles.
My lips twist. A few miles away my bed is calling my name. “Actually, I was headingout.”
Isaac’s frown is partly a pout, which accentuates the fullness of his lower lip. “Can I convince you to change your mind? It would be a terrible waste of good beer to let it get warm.” He holds one bottle out to me, eyebrows raised. “This beer needs to fulfill its destiny.” He moves the bottle a fraction, so it swings gently side toside.
I eye his hopeful face.I was headed home. To my TV. And ice cream.In my head I see Britt’s stern look, and it makes me wonder if she’s staring me down from the dance floor behindme.
“OK.” I nod. “But I’m not taking an open drink from someone I justmet.”
His lips shift like he’s trying not to laugh. “You think I’ve poisoned yourdrink?”
I shrug. “I have a rule, that’s all.” Actually, it’s my dad’s rule, but it makes sense, and I’ve always followedit.
He nods and curls the beer back into his chest beside the second bottle. His grin turns crooked as he watches me for a few seconds. I don’t know what he’s looking for, but I’m sure I won’t measureup.
Tears burn in my eyes, but by sheer will I hold them back. The last thing I want to do is show emotion to another man. I’ve learned by now that men use emotions as weapons. There is no way I’ll give someone the power to hurt meagain.
I shouldgo.
My breath whooshes up in surprise when Isaac grabs my hand. Without looking back to see my reaction, he pulls me through the crowd and to the bar. Two people leave, and he quickly claims their seats. He sets the bottles down on the bar and pulls out the stool on theright.
“Let’s try this again.” He winks at me. “Aubrey, it’s nice to meet you. Please sit and have a drink with me from a bottle you see the bartender open and hand toyou.”
Laughter bubbles up my throat as Isit.
Isaac bypasses his seat, leaning over it and setting his forearms on the edge of the bar. I try not to notice the ripple in his arms. Or the way his shoulders pull back. Or his stunning profile.How does a man get lips like that?Fillers. That must be it. I pinch my average-size lips together to keep fromlaughing.
He focuses on the bartender, and, when he gets his attention, lifts his head back slightly. Isaac points down at the bottles in front of us and lifts two fingers in the air. He smiles politely and thanks the bartender when he delivers thebeer.
