Her voice is almost sultry as her eyes rake over his body in a slow perusal. It sets my teeth on edge. I have no claim overthis man, but it’s clear we came together. The overt flirtation is rude, at best.
“The usual. ” He slides his card across the bar. “Start a tab. Callie’s drinks are on me.”
I get a small thrill as she disappears down the bar without another word. Jaxon doesn’t so much as spare her a second glance.
“You hold open doors, pull out chairs, let your dates order first, and pay for the drinks. Why are you single?”
In a series of moves that probably shouldn’t be as sexy as they seem, Jaxon turns to face me, crosses one foot over the other, and rests his elbow on the bar. “You need higher standards, Callie baby. That’s the bare minimum. When you’re with me, you’ll never so much as touch a door handle.”
My stomach plummets. “Guess my bar has been set in hell.”
When the bartender returns with our drinks, I knock mine back greedily. The burn of the vodka is dulled by the salty tang of the pickle juice, and a subtle warmth spreads from my chest and down to my fingertips.
If I had to guess what Jaxon’s ‘usual’ order is, it would be exactly what was placed in front of him: two fingers of amber liquid that I’d bet my last dollar is bourbon. That’s saying a lot since a dollar is about all I have to my name if you don’t account for my meager savings. I’m still waiting for an insurance payout from the fire that claimed my home and all of its contents, but I’m not holding my breath.
Not usually one for small talk, I let the silence linger.
Jaxon has no such compunction. “So, what’s your favorite book?”
My brows shoot up. “Just one?”
“If you had to choose.”
I bring my drink to my lips and empty the glass. “Impossible. I’ve read thousands of books.”
“Oh, come on. You must have a favorite.”
“Nope.”
“Top five.”
I tilt my head from side to side, considering. “Can I get back to you on that? I need time to think about it.”
“Alright, let’s try something else then.” He downs the rest of his drink and holds out his hand, giving me a devastating smile that’s almost impossible to resist. “Dance with me.”
When I don’t respond, he continues. “I’m an excellent dancer. I’ll even let you stand on my toes.”
My first instinct is to turn him down, but as my gaze flicks to his hand and back to his hopeful expression, I can’t bring myself to do it. I reluctantly slide my palm against his.
An electric current races up my arm.
Jaxon pulls me along with him. He stops in the middle of the dance floor, pressing my palm against his hard chest and settling one hand on my lower back. It’s dangerously close to the angry crisscross scars hidden beneath my shirt. I pinch my eyes shut to quell the phantom pain.
Maybe it’s the alcohol, or the neon lights casting some kind of spell, but I find myself relaxing into him. The man feels like he was carved out of stone, all hard edges and deep ridges. He’s at least a head taller than me, maybe more—I can’t tell from this angle.
Jaxon rests his chin against the side of my head, his soft breath ruffling my hair. Everything around us dissolves until my senses narrow in on the man holding me in his strong arms with an altogether unexpected gentleness.
I inhale deeply as his warm scent envelopes me. It’s familiar, like old leather-bound books with a hint of rich amber. Comfort is the word that comes to mind, something my life has been sorely lacking for longer than I care to admit.
He chuckles, the rich sound reverberating through his chest. “Did you justsniff me?”
I roll my eyes. “No. Why would I do something like that?”
“Because you like the way I smell. It’s ok. You can admit it.”
“You’re so full of yourself.”
He brings his mouth to the shell of my ear. “You could be full of me, too, Callie baby. Just say the word.”
