Bait (Wake, #1)(59)

“You're from San Francisco? That's cool,” he answered and smiled at my colleague.

“Born and raised. Live in the Mission area,” she replied, beaming.

We finished getting the pamphlets out and making sure the sample food was holding its temperature as the hustle and bustle of a trade show ensued all around us.

It was forty-five minutes later before Casey finally showed up. When my eyes found him he was talking to a lady by the door and handing her his business card. I watched as he leaned in and whispered something in her ear and then gave her a huge Casey smile. He looked back at her as he took his first steps away.

My gut lurched.

My head knew better. I had no business being anywhere near jealous of any woman he was with, but I was anyway.

I pretended to be looking at something with an early attendee, but I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He always looked so alive. Well, apart from the night we met, when he’d been aloof and dismissive initially, then attentive and affectionate. I'd only seen him a handful of times, but every time was the same. The way he wore his clothes like he didn't care, but still managed to look like he stepped out of a catalog had me captivated.

He walked to us, smiling and waving at others, looking like he didn't have a care in the world. He wore red jeans—yes, red jeans—and a black scoop neck T-shirt tucked in loosely behind his belt. He was sexy as hell. Wild curls sprang from his head and he was unshaven, I wanted to say, “f*ck this show, let's go back upstairs.” Or, “hell, f*ck upstairs there's room under this table.” He looked that good.

Of course, he was there to peddle beer. And I bet he did a damn fine job. Casey was naturally charismatic and always looked like he was up to something. It's one of the things I liked about him the most. His playfulness.

When he walked past me, he looked over the gentleman's shoulder whom I was talking to, and in a mocking way pouted his lip and shook his head feigning agreement with what I was saying. I had to cough to disguise my laugh.

I then heard my phone vibrate. After finishing up with my first real interested bystander, I glanced at it.

Casey: This is going to be fun. I'm going to f*ck with you all day.

Shit. I didn't think that was an empty threat. It was going to be a major pain in the ass trying to concentrate on work with him standing right in front of me, but having been warned officially that he was deliberately trying to crack my professional exterior? I needed to have my game face on.

I managed to hold it together an hour later as he performed a rather vulgar oral pantomime, which took Melanie down cold. She had to excuse herself.

I didn't budge when Casey slipped a finger through his zipper and waggled it at me, I only responded with the most classy nose-itch/bird flip I could muster while still in business character.

Me: I'm a little tougher than you think, Lou. Better quit while you're ahead.

His table was busy when I sent the message. I did that intentionally to goad him. It didn't hurt that I pretended to take a picture of my boobs first. He watched, eyes bugged out and then his gaze darted to where his phone was, desperate to look when it signaled he had a new message.

Point for me.

When his line slowed down and he had a quick break to look, he only said over the aisle, “Real cute, Betty. We still on for tonight?”

I looked to Melanie, knowing that she was familiar with my relationship status, and said the only thing I could, “Only if Melanie and Troy go.”

“Excuse me,” Troy said to his customer. “I'm in,” then he continued with his schpeal.

I looked to Melanie again and her smile said it all.

“Looks like we're going out,” I said.

The one-up shenanigans continued through the afternoon, but stopped when I went to the bathroom to discard my panties. When I sauntered back, I conveniently stopped by his side of the aisle and dropped them at his feet.

No one except Troy could see them, since there was a table skirt, but I effectively made Casey loose his train of thought completely. When his customer left their booth, I watched as he picked them up and smelled them before pocketing my underwear in his red jeans. A few minutes after that I witnessed him adjusting his erection.

I think that's called a hat-trick.



We agreed to meet in the lobby at nine o'clock to go out in Hot-lanta. I changed into a little, army-green silk romper and paired it with my nude pumps after I took a quick shower, but opted to not rewash and dry my hair.

It saved me some time. I was secretly hoping that Casey would be in the lobby and as I rode the elevator down almost an hour before we had all agreed to meet. I was surprised. He’d had the same idea, because on the way down I got a text asking me if I wanted to get an early start.

The elevator pinged and he was sitting in a club chair facing the doors as I emerged only about ten feet away.

When the doors opened, catching his attention, he smiled just for me realizing that we had shared the same idea.

“Does a hobby horse have a wooden dick?” I rhetorically asked, returning his funny anecdote from months ago. I looked him over and he hadn't changed at all. Still wearing the same clothes he had all day. He sat laughing at me as I swayed my hips in my short romper and heals walking to him.

“Is Troy down here yet?”

“Nope. Just us.” He grinned. As he usually did, he had a teasing gleam in his eye. He stood offering me an arm, “Shall we?”