He chuckles to himself as he hangs up the phone, and I grin like an idiot at my computer screen and silently squeal.
Just like a teenager.
31
Wes
I have to admit,I like Dakota’s suggestion to meet for a drink, and not even because I want a drink. Because I like how she told me what she wants.
The hotel lobby is a little busier than the other times I’ve been here this week, probably because it’s Friday night. A majority of the people coming through the double doors are heading for the restaurant. Most of them look like couples.
I enter the restaurant and veer left to the bar. It’s full, but I manage to grab a corner seat when two people leave. I order a whiskey, and a glass of the same wine Dakota drank the night of the celebratory dinner.
I’m pulling out my phone to tell her I’m here when a hand slides over my shoulder and soft lips touch my ear. “Come here often?” The voice is low, sultry, vibrating in my ear.
I turn into the sound and look up. Dakota smiles down at me, her head tipping to the side. She wears a tight denim skirt, a white V-neck T-shirt tucked into the front of her skirt, and cowgirl boots. She looks good enough to eat, and she smells even better.
“Are you trying to pick me up?” I raise my eyebrows as I say it.
“That depends,” she answers, leaning over me to pick up her wine off the bar. Her breasts brush against my upper arm, and I’m ninety-nine percent positive it’s on purpose. “Is it working?”
“Damn straight.” Grabbing my whiskey, I stand and guide her onto the barstool. There’s only one seat, so I stand beside her with my forearm resting on the edge of the bar top.
“How gallant of you,” she teases.
“Sweetheart, where I come from, a man doesn’t sit while a woman stands.”
Dakota runs a finger over the buttons on the front of my shirt. “Say that again.”
“Where I come from—”
She shakes her head. “The first word.”
For a second I’m confused, but my brain replays the sentence and I hear it.Sweetheart.
I look down into her eyes. Her chin is upturned, and she waits.
“Sweetheart.”
The mere inches of air between us vibrates with her low moan.
“One more time,” she whispers.
This time, I say it with my lips poised against hers, so she can feel me when I speak. “Sweetheart.”
Her lips press against mine. I’m aware we’re in the hotel bar in the middle of town. I’m aware that this will feed the already turning rumor mill.
What I’m not aware of are my parents walking into the bar. Until my mother says my name, I’m happily tasting the wine on Dakota’s mouth.
“Wes?”
Our kiss breaks off the instant I hear my mother’s voice. I turn and see her standing beside my father. He’s smirking. She looks… odd. Not happy for me, but not mad. I don’t get it, but I’m a grown man. I don’t need her permission.
“Hello, Beau. Juliette.” Dakota hops off her stool and steps around it so she can stand next to me.
“Nice to see you again, Dakota,” my dad answers. He elbows my mom in a way that is probably supposed to be covert but is beyond obvious. “We’re going to get some dinner. You two have fun.”
My mom plasters a smile on her face and repeats my dad’s last sentence.
