I shoved my way into the crowded, dim hallway, wondering why in the hell the owner of the joint hadn’t invested in some decent lighting. Once inside, I cringed hearing all chatterboxes behind me, all giggling about something. Grown ass women acting as if they were teenagers.
Ignoring their bantering, I shoved my mind into a vacuum and stood in front of the counter, gripping the edge as if alifeline. How many deep breaths had I taken over the last two years? I’d researched online, learning a simple activity such as concentrating on how many breaths I took in a two-minute span could calm the anxiety.
Tonight it wasn’t working.
Maybe the date on the calendar. Maybe the memories. Maybe Danny’s call.
Or Randy admitting he wanted to go down on me. Yuck.
With a single lift of my head and a moment of honest reflection, I could admit all of the above were ticklers as to my nasty mood swing, but the icing on the cake was all about Montgomery. Not only how incredibly handsome he was, but because of the way I’d reacted to him, both with my mental reactions and how my body had betrayed me.
More important and perhaps repulsive was the need furrowing inside, growing exponentially every time we ran into each other. The feeling of freefalling or wanting to. Of letting go in a way that maybe I’d regret one day, but needed if only as a reminder that a passionate woman was still inside. Fighting for freedom.
Aching for companionship.
Longing for even one night of raw, unbridled carnal sin.
Even a little primal activity tossed in for good measure.
Of course I wasn’t going to allow myself to stoop so low. I didn’t know the man or his background, including if he was married, had ten kids, or had some sexually transmitted disease. My mind would win out against my body’s provocation.
I was wrong. I was invincible.
And I was still horny as shit.
All because of a tall, dark, and potentially dangerous man.
Not only to my person, but to my slightly off kilter mental state. Another deep breath. Another moment of longing. A hard glare at the reflection of a woman who’d once centered her life around discovering joy only to have her dreams and hopes dashed by reality.
My gaze fell to the necklace I’d chosen for the evening. I ran my finger across it, the ruby setting my birthstone. I’d had the piece for years, treasuring it to the point I almost never wore it, too fearful of losing something so precious. There was a distinct reason I’d worn it tonight, although in doing so, memories constantly tugged at my mind.
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself.” As soon as I muttered the words, a dolled-up chick from behind me said something to one of her friends. My glare was hard enough to crack the glass. My goodness. Terrible mood swings all because of a guy who carried himself like a stalker.
There was no other reason for him to be in this bar. The food was mediocre, the music so-so. Unless you called watching wayward brides-to-be falling on their asses after challenging a fake bull entertainment, there was nothing unique. At least the drinks were good. As long as you remained with the basics.
What in God’s name was I trying to convince myself of?
I took a step away, running the tip of my pinky across the corners of my mouth, and smoothed down my dress. As if for the first time, I really took a look at what I’d chosen for the evening. For an event of this nature, I’d normally choose jeans, maybe a fancy sweater. Not a dress that left nothing to the imagination.
Montgomery had noticed, his heated gaze crawling all over me as if mentally peeling away the material.Yeah, and you appreciated him doing so. Admit it. In fact, you were hoping he’d make an appearance.
“Not true.” Another two words so the girls behind me had additional fodder. Maybe what I really needed was another full glass of wine. The day would pass. The sun would rise tomorrow, at least hopefully so. And I was blessed to have an amazing business and tremendous friends.
I waited, taking another few deep breaths as the gaggle of girls finally left, three tossing me angry looks. They were tourists. I could tell by their clothes.
What was I saying? The dress I’d chosen was asking for trouble. After splashing water in my face, I snatched a towel, blotting instead of wiping. There was nothing worse than raccoon eyes.
The whooshing of the door interrupted my few seconds of peace. Maybe it was the final nudge I needed. I couldn’t hide forever. With my eyes still closed, I turned sharply, immediately smacking into something hard.
There was a shot of current jolting me from my moment of reverie, an instant sense that the hard body I’d run into had nefarious intentions in mind. I didn’t need my eyesight to know who it was.
Montgomery.
I opened one eye first, willing the oppressive man away, hoping he was a dream.
Or a nightmare.
But he was very real, peering down at me with a slight scowl, his eyes effectively piercing my entire soul.
