“When I’m not negotiating contracts for the athletes I work with, I’m usually securing the best endorsement deals I can find, arranging interviews, and scouting new talent.” I leaned further into her touch.
“Sounds like that can make for a pretty long day.”
“Just a little bit. Hence, the occasional night spent in a bar like Bluff City.”
“I’d been meaning to ask, what’s a guy like you doing drinking in a place like that?”
“A guy like me?” I raised an eyebrow and she gave me aget reallook.
I ran my fingers through my thick hair, before answering, “The idea of a drink after work is to wind down. No way in hell anyone I work with would be caught dead in a place like that. And after a couple visits, I realized it’s not too bad after all.” I shrugged and licked my lips. “Good bourbon, a bartender that remembers my order, and a beautiful woman across the bar after a long day. Can’t really ask for much more than that.”
“You want to know one of the first things I noticed about you that night when you walked up to me?” Her fingers untangled from my hair and danced down my arm, leaving goosebumps in her trail.
“Please.”
“This tattoo.” Her delicate touch roamed over the black ink on my hand.
Spread across the back of my hand were four playing cards, each suit from a standard deck of cards, and all four were jacks.
“There has to be a meaning behind it. Are you a poker player in your downtime? Was it a lucky hit of four-of-a-kind that made you a millionaire?” she speculated.
“There is a meaning behind it, but none of the above.” I smirked. “When I first met you, I told you I had a son that came into my life not long ago. I wanted to finish off my sleeve with a tattoo on my hand. Around that time, we had just connected. His name is Jackson. I felt like the jacks were fitting, a play on words, of sorts.”
While tracing the outline of the playing cards on my hand, she said, “That’s really sweet of you to get a tattoo for him. I hope he’s a good guy.” She huffed, the last few words so quiet I was almost positive she didn’t want me to hear.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Sorry. Obviously, I’m sure your son is a good guy.” She chuckled, a laugh laced with little to no emotion behind it, and shook her head before adding, “Technically, my ex and your son share the same name, butJaxhas never gone by the name Jackson.” Hearing her speak of an ex sent a wave of jealousy rushing through me.
“He’s like any boy in their mid-twenties; he has his good moments and bad.” Not wanting to dive into the complicated topic of my son, I focused on what she’d said about her ex. “Tell me about your ex. What makes him a bad guy? That way I know why I have to kick his ass if I ever come across him.”
“I walked in on him having an orgy on Valentine’s Day a few years ago. Guess he forgot to invite me to the party.” A pitiful laugh slipped from her red lips, every ounce of it faked. Shaking her head, she finished, “He’s not worth my energy to talk about, though. Especially on a night here with you.”
Jesus Christ.
A fucking orgy on Valentine’s Day?
“It was a blessing in disguise,”I wanted to tell her. A breakup with aboyas dumb as that one only pushed me harder to show her what it would be like to be with aman.
“Come here,” I said instead, my voice turning dark and my need for her growing the more I thought about someone hurting her.
“I’m about as close as I can be, Spencer.” Her gaze dropped back to my tattoo. Each brush of her fingers against my skin lit me up inside.
“You can always be closer.” Fuck, I hoped I was reading her body language right. She’d been cozying up to me all night, not once had she tried to move. Her fingers had weaved their way through my hair, danced along my tattoos, and with every touch it was like she was striking a match in my veins.
I know I told her I just wanted to hold her, and be near her, but fuck if I didn’t want to kiss her right now. To make a mess of that red lipstick and taste her cherry scent on my tongue.
“If I were any closer, I’d be sitting on your lap.” Her breathing picked up; her chest was rising and falling at a faster pace.
“Would that be so bad?” I shrugged.
Balls in your court, Avery.
“Feeling you pressed against me is a tad more than just holding hands, wouldn’t you agree?”
Her body held up against mine was all I could think about tonight. The main reason I requested that I hold her when we fell asleep was for that very reason. I wanted to feel how her small frame tucked into mine. I wanted to nudge the line and see if she’d allow my hands to wander. To explore her body with a feather light touch. I wanted to nuzzle my nose into the crook of her neck and breathe her in, dreaming of her scent.
“Correct. It’s beyond holding hands. But what if I wanted to cash in on holding you now and not wait until we went to sleep tonight to feel your body against mine?”
