Then, almost without her willing it, the itch took over her vocal cords and scratched itself. “What are you doing right now? Want to join me?”
She grimaced as silence vibrated down the line. She barely knew this guy, and she wasn’t even sure he liked her all that much, but as soon as the words crossed her lips, the buzzing noise quieted a fraction, dimming its cry for chaos. Question was, had she just scared him off?
“Come on,” she wheedled. “Do you live near your old bakery? I’m not too far from there. Keep me company. I swear I won’t start any fights while you’re with me tonight.”
Oh, she’d bet he was good in a bar fight. His broad shoulders and thick chest, those legs like concrete pylons, the huge fists at the end of the world’s most perfectly formed arms. All that power and focus, intent on defending her honor. She shivered, her thoughts twisting toward something more intimate, and she had a flash of him turning all that power and focus onher. Those big hands at her waist. Those big thighs under her—
She bit her lip and slammed the door shut on that little scenario. It was Finn and Tom’s fault for getting their sex vibes all over the apartment. But she was suddenly unsure if she wanted this quiet, confounding man to sit next to her at the bar while she tried to shush her demons. Since those demons were whispering for her to try picturing him naked, it might be best to stay far, far away from him tonight.
Then his deep voice cut through her thoughts.
“What the hell. Give me the address.”
Seven
Erik wasn’t sure who was at the wheel anymore. Certainly not his brain; that organ would tell him that securing his next job was his only priority. Not his dick either; as much trouble asthatcopilot had been over the years, even it would think twice about messing around with Josie Redhead, who shouted more than she whispered, wore shoes that cost more than his first car, and used fifty words when five would do.
Yet here he was, taking the stairs from the L two at a time and heading toward a bar that wasn’t actually that close to his apartment to meet an excitable, unpredictable woman who wasn’t a friend or even a fuck buddy. He was at the precipice of fear and opportunity in his career, and he was going out of his way to intentionally hold his hand over an open flame for fun.
Nevertheless, he lengthened his stride so he’d reach the address she’d given him as quickly as possible, and before he knew it, he was pulling open the door to Jed’s and stepping inside. He tugged out his earbuds and pocketed them, scanning the dim, low-ceilinged room until he spotted the woman he was there for. She was perched on a stool, her elbows resting on the bar and the tips of her toes brushing the brass railing running near the floor. She’d set her purse on the seat next to her, and the sight ignited a flicker of pleasure. When was the last time his arrival had been expected? Anticipated even? Fuck, he’d been alone in this city for too long.
He crossed the boisterous room to claim the seat next to her, and she greeted him with a smile that radiated such ferocity that he cast an assessing glance at the other patrons in the long, narrow space before claiming his seat.
“Looking for someone?” Her brow creased as she followed his gaze around the room.
He turned back to the bar and gestured to the bartender for another of whatever Josie was drinking. “Wondering who I might have to fight later. You’ve got a look in your eye.”
She threw her head back and laughed, freeing a long spiral of hair to brush against his shoulder. He itched to hold it between his thumb and forefinger to see if it was as hot to the touch as its color promised.
“I told you I’d be on my best behavior.” Her face was the picture of wide-eyed innocence, and he didn’t buy it for a second.
Forcing his tempted fingers away from the red strands, he lifted his chin toward a table in the back. “Just promise you won’t toss a chair at any of them.”
She turned to look at the three leather-clad, chrome-domed biker types plowing through a platter of chicken wings. One glanced up, met Erik’s eye for the briefest moment, and quickly returned his attention to the pile of meat on his plate.
Josie scoffed. “Please. You could take those guys easy.”
Her eyes cut to his chest, then to his face, then darted back down to her drink as the blood pumped harder in his veins. He was aware that his size had its own intimidation factor, and he didn’t particularly enjoy being the cause of someone else’s fear. But Josie had looked at him in appreciation rather than apprehension. In fact, if he didn’t know better, he’d think he’d just been properly ogled.
Another wave of emotion took him by surprise, this one a fair bit sharper than pleasure. For a brief, vain moment, he flexed the muscles that a lifetime of physical labor and a regular workout regimen had given him. Then embarrassment swamped him, and he released the tension he was holding in his body. He shook his head and reached for the glass the bartender set in front of him.
The first sip had him sputtering. “Whatisthis?”
Josie grinned and clinked her glass against his. “A greyhound. Grapefruit juice and gin.” His answering grimace prompted another wild laugh from her. “I take it you’re not a fan?”
He steeled himself and tossed the rest of the drink back, barely controlling a shudder. “Beer,” he told the bartender, who complied with a knowing smirk. Erik probably wasn’t the first guy to choke down something awful to impress a woman, nor would he be the last. Except he wasn’t there to impress Josie. So what, exactly, was he doing at this bar?
She rolled her glass of disgusting drink between her palms and said dreamily, “Greyhounds must be the coldest dogs, don’t you think?”
That. That’s what he was doing here. He forgot about his own shit while he waited for the next geyser of words to spill from her tart mouth.
“Why’s that?”
“Oh my God, youcancarry a conversation!” She beamed up at him, and he drank in the amusement playing across her face. “They just always look like they’re freezing, don’t they? All skinny and lean? I always want to dress them in sweaters. Or let them cuddle with a Saint Bernard. Did you have dogs growing up? Do you have one now?”
“Yes. And no.” He sipped his beer and changed the subject. “How’s the wedding planning?”
She groaned and dropped her head to the bar top. “The florist just canceled. Kill me now. How’s the job hunt?”
