“Your leg is wet.”
He leads me to his booth and sits down, picking up the black fabric napkin from the table.
“Here, let me.” He pats his knee, and for a second I contemplate sitting in his lap. But then he chuckles. “Your foot. So I can clean your leg.”
Right.
My leg.
Balancing on my left foot, I lift my right leg. He cups the back of my calf and guides my foot to his knee. His fingers are gentle, barely skimming my skin but the fire burning beneath is intense.
He wipes the cloth napkin down my leg. Capturing a droplet with his thumb, he brings it to his lips. His tongue darts out, and he licks away the moisture.
“Bourbon.” He grins. “I’m more of a whiskey man, myself.”
I smile. At least I think I do. This man has my brain short circuiting with his touch.
“Did any get into your shoe?” He grabs hold of the heel and tries to pull it off.
“No.” I clear my throat when the word comes out nearly breathless. “Just my leg.”
He drags his gaze up my leg, over my torso, slowly etching a deep desire as his eyes make their way over me. I almost giggle when our gazes meet up.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“All done.”
“Thanks.”
“You can put your foot down now.” He smirks, making no attempt to move my foot from his knee.
“Oh, right.” I jerk my leg back and put both feet back on the floor. “Thanks.”
He drops the napkin onto the table and peers around the wall of the booth. “It’s safe if you needed to go somewhere.”
Safe? What’s safe?
Oh, the floor. The mess has been cleaned up.
“No. I was just taking a minute before going back to my table. My friends were discussing—” I stop myself; blabbering isn’t like me. I take a breath. “I was just taking a lap.”
His mouth quirks up to one side. “Taking a lap?”
“Yeah, you know around the lounge.”
“So avoiding your friends?”
“In a way, yeah.” I nod. “I just needed a second.”
“You can hang here if you still need a second.” He gestures to the seat across from him.
“Oh.” I glance over my shoulder to our table.
Kara and Rosa are staring at me. Rosa’s jaw is hanging open, and Kara is giving me two thumbs up, her unspoken order to keep doing whatever the hell it is I’m doing because she full heartedly agrees.
I swear sometimes that woman can read my mind.
“It’s up to you. Your friends seem to be doing okay without you at the moment.”
