He flashed a grin, wider than his smile, the dimples deeper, his eyes as blue as the hydrangeas she’d been staring at all afternoon. “Wasn’t sure if it was me you were staring at or the view—you know, with you wearing those big sunglasses.”
“I was looking at the view. I saw you out of the corner of my eye.”
Laughter rolled out of him, easy and smooth as caramel. “Neatly put in my place.” Another wide grin. “To be clear, I was looking at you.”
Jesus. When was the last time a guy had made her belly swoop?
Maybe she wasn’t quite as old as she’d thought. But shewastoo old and frankly too uninterested to carry on the conversation. He was cute, but he knew it. And besides, sex—and he was definitely the poster boy for it—wasn’t worth the hype. She gave him a polite smile that she hoped saidThanks but no, thanks, and focused on watching Annika line the drinks up along the bar. One party bucket—an actual bucket, she had discovered, filled with ice, vodka bottles, shot glasses and fruit—for the youngsters and three zingy martinis (one nonalcoholic) for the oldies. Damn, she did not like including herself in that category.
“Need any help?” He smiled again, nodding to the display of alcohol.
“Drinking it?”
He let out a low chuckle. “I meant carrying it, but sure, I can do both.”
Crap, had that sounded like a come-on? “I’ve got the drinking part covered.”
“Shame.” He shot her another twinkly smile before grabbing the party bucket. “Where are you sitting?”
Okay, so she noticed the worn leather bracelets on his wrists, the roped veins on his tanned forearms. The impressive flex of his biceps. She could look, couldn’t she? “I don’t want you to lose your place at the bar.”
He shrugged, and, fine, she’d also noticed the breadth of his shoulders and how they strained the soft fabric of his faded blue T-shirt. “It’s okay, Annika will sort me out,” he said.
I bet she will.“Then thanks. We’re outside.” She led the way to their table on the wharf that looked out across the harbor. The sun was setting, and the scene was like something out of a travel brochure. Pink sky, check; calm waters, check. Good-looking young women laughing and drinking shots and cocktails—check. Sexy tanned male looking like he’d just walked off the beach—double check.
“Oh my God, you’ve pulled already, Aunt Olivia!”
The very inebriated bride-to-be grinned over at her, and Olivia died a thousand deaths. “What I’vepulledis a kind young man to help me carry the drinks.” Damn, she sounded like the great-aunt.
A chorus of “Shame” echoed round the group as the drink carrier, aka Sexy Blue Eyes, placed the bucket on the table.
Olivia shook her head at them. “Please excuse my niece and her friends,” she told him. “They’re young and drunk.”
“Hey, we think it’s a shame too,” Ashley shouted from the end of the table. “And she’s very single, just in case you’re interested.”
This was going from bad to worse. “Please also excuse my sisters. They’re old enough to know better, and the mouthy one is drunk.”
Sexy Blue Eyes let out another deep rumble of laughter. “No apologies needed.” He turned to her, and God, those eyes were the prettiest she’d ever seen. “I’m Connor, by the way. And I’m guessing you’re Livvy.”
“Olivia,” she countered automatically, though for once the name sounded stiff and starchy on her tongue. Like it belonged to the career woman she was back home, not this holidaymaker in Nantucket whose belly was now doing a strange flutter as his eyes skimmed over her face.
“I prefer Livvy. Makes you seem more approachable.” Those twin blue orbs found hers, his gaze steady. “Your family aren’t wrong, Livvy. I am interested.” He winked. “You have pulled.”
With that, he turned and walked back into the bar. No,walkedwas not the right description for the way his hips rolled in a long-legged stride that wasn’t quite a swagger but definitely hit both confident and sexy.
And that was before her gaze landed on the way his well-worn jeans hugged his...
“Oh my God, what a spectacular arse.” Ashley fanned herself.
“It is the bum to beat all bums.” Chloe, Sophie’s best friend and chief bridesmaid, agreed. “A firm peach I want to put my hands on and squeeze. Before biting into the succulent flesh.”
The table erupted with laughter.
“And AuntLivvyhas a shot at doing just that.” Sophie grinned and swiveled to look at her. “He just said he’s yours for the taking. Go get him!”
Olivia went to sit down, her legs feeling distinctly wobbly. Too many martinis. “He was being kind to make up for you lot embarrassing me.”
“Nope.” Jessica had her eyes on the door to the bar. “He’s looking over here right now. And I can tell you, it’s not me he’s hoping will glance back at him.”
