He shook his head, moving back to his seat. Acting like nothing had happened, casual as ever, Sergei cleared his throat. “No worries.”
I opened and closed my mouth, staring at him as he sat back down like this was just any ordinary night for him. Maybe he went around kissing all kinds of strange women. He was hot enough to attract them. Yet, he never made any move on anyone here, never looked at Rosa like he did me.
Just get back to work.
Stop this stupid nonsense.
Grabbing the mop, I went back behind the bar.
“Natalie, it’s okay,” he said moments later when I dropped the third glass in as many minutes.
I frowned up at him, damning this blush that wouldn’t quit. Or how I was drawn to glance at his lips. “Huh?”
“I’m fine with pretending to be your boyfriend,” he said.
I winced, worried everyone would hear. “I’m so sorry that I put you on the spot like that.”
He shot his hand out to catch the glass that I almost knocked over. With his other hand, he placed it over mine. My trembling fingers felt safe under the heat of his big palm.
“It’s fine,” he repeated calmly.
Why does his voice have that effect on me?
So rich and dark. Commanding. Like all would be right with him in charge so I wouldn’t be so burdened by my life.
“I’m happy to play along if it keeps those idiots from harassing you.”
Watching him as I filled another glass, I searched his face for a catch. If he was interested in stepping in as a fake boyfriend, would he expect something in return?
“What’s the catch?” I asked nervously.
He shrugged and rubbed his jaw. “There isn’t one.”
How?
Why?
I didn’t understand how a sexy man like him could be available to pretend for me, without any obligation to thank him for his help. My struggles with independence and missing a man to lean on thwarted my thoughts.
“If I’m making you nervous, I can go.” He twisted to grab his jacket off the short back of the stool. As he moved, he cringed in pain.
“Are you okay?” I reached out and put my hand on his forearm.
He looked back, glancing at how I’d touched him, and I yanked my hand away. “Just a sore muscle.”
“You… You don’t have to go.” I cleared my throat and tucked my hair behind my ear. “I’m not nervous.”
He arched one brow at me, questioning that claim.
“I’m just surprised. I blurted that out and didn’t think you’d…”
I didn’t know that you’d kiss me.
That it could be that… hot.
“Nat!” Rosa whistled, getting my attention. She hollered out a request for more bottles of beer from the walk-in fridge. I nodded, almost glad for a moment to step away. Going into the cold room chilled me a bit, but with the thought of Sergei kissing me—of his wanting to kiss me again—kept my cheeks pink when I returned.
He’s still here.
