“Okaaaaaay then,” she says. “He’s cuuuuuuuuute!”
“And definitely checking you out.”
She takes another sip. Then she looks back. “Oh my. His friend is not bad either. Actually, I think he might be even better looking. You should totally check him out.”
I do not want to check anyone out. Against everything in me, my eyes move in that direction anyway.
The friend is leaning on the bar right next to Gray Shirt. He has a bottle of beer in one hand and is scowling like he wants to hit someone. He’s freaking enormous. His shoulders are stretching his white shirt to the limits. The sleeves are rolled to the elbow, giving me a good view of his ink and his really strong forearms. There’s something about a man with good forearms. His dark hair is long, past his shoulders, the way a lot of the island males wear it. He’s pretty darned spectacular.
I realize I have been looking for too long when his friend clocks me doing it and leans in to say something. The big one’s gaze flicks up and finds mine.
Crap!
I jerk my eyes back to my drink.
Gray Shirt pushes off the bar.
“Shit, shit, shit!” I mutter.
“What?”
“They’re coming over.”
“They are not.”
“They are absolutely coming over. We should run.”
“We are not running.” Carla giggles. “Keep calm. It’s fine,” she adds.
It’s so not fine at all because they’re coming over. I can see them in the mirror behind the bar, weaving through the bodies,Gray Shirt in front, White Shirt a half-step behind. Gray Shirt is smiling. White Shirt is not. If anything, his scowl is worse.
“Ladies.” Gray Shirt arrives first, hand already extended toward Carla. “I’m Flint. Please let me buy you a drink,” he asks Carla.
“I’m Carla.” She giggles. “I would love another Cosmo.” She holds up her empty glass.
His eyes stay on Carla. “It’s really good to meet you. One Cosmo coming right up.” Then he catches himself. “Oh…um…hi,” he says to me, holding out his hand. “I’m Flint, and this is Ridge.” He gestures to White Shirt guy, who is even bigger right in front of me.
“Ridge.” I say the name because it’s a good one, and because the man attached to it has stopped a foot from me and has not said anything yet. “I’m Robyn. And this is Carla…which you know already.”
I’m blabbering. I force myself to stop.
“Hi.” Carla beams, waving at Ridge, even though he’s standing right there. She manages to look cute doing it.
“Can I get you a Cosmo, Robyn?” Flint asks as he starts to shove his way to the bar.
“I’m good,” I yell, holding up my still half-full glass.
“Evening, ladies.” Ridge’s voice is deep and rough. His eyes are an unusual gray-green. I’m not sure which dominates. His mouth quirks up at one side for a second, and then it’s gone.
I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.
“Um…hi.”
“Do you guys come here often?”
“No,” Ridge says.
“Why not?” Carla asks. “Do you live in the area?”
