Wrapped Up in You (Heartbreaker Bay, #8)(83)

“Don’t you worry,” Jenna said. “I’m not done.”

“Please be done.”

But Jenna was now eyeing the man who’d just taken a barstool a few seats down. That’s him, she mouthed to Piper.

Who?

New Hot Guy!

Piper sneaked a peek. He was in military green cargos and a black Henley that hugged his long, leanly muscled body. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and dark scruff, all of which went with his quietly dark expression that said Not Feeling Social.

Jenna stood as if planning on another round of Let’s Embarrass Piper, but Piper grabbed her. “Don’t you dare!”

Jenna just smiled and looked at the man. “Hey.”

He nodded at her.

“So . . . you’re a guy.”

“Last time I checked,” he said dryly.

Jenna jerked a thumb to Piper. “It’s my best friend’s birthday.”

Hot Guy’s gaze locked on Piper.

“She’s made herself a list,” Jenna said.

Hot Guy eyed the still open journal as Jenna assisted by turning it his way for ease of reading.

Honest to God, Piper had no idea why she loved this woman.

Hot Guy read the list and then rubbed the sexy scruff on his jaw. “Is this for you or your grandma?”

Jenna snorted. “Hey, that’s her nickname, actually. Grandma.”

“Some wingman you are.” Piper snatched up the journal and closed it.

“What does ‘me’ time entail?” Hot Guy asked.

“I’m pretty sure it involves batteries,” Jenna answered helpfully.

“Okay,” Piper said and pointed at Jenna. “You know what? You’re cut off.”

“Notice that she didn’t answer the question,” Jenna said to Hot Guy. “She’s good at that.”

“It doesn’t involve batteries!” Piper snapped. No way was she going to admit she’d meant a nap.

Jenna took the journal back, flipped the page, and added something to Piper’s supposedly secret list:

—Get laid.



Then she drew an arrow pointing at Hot Guy, who nodded in approval. “Now you’ve got a list.”

“Keep dreaming, buddy,” she said before turning back to Jenna. “And you. Are you kidding me? You wrote that in ink.” Which meant it couldn’t be erased. And Piper couldn’t rip it out either. She couldn’t just rip out a page from a bullet journal, it went against how she’d been coded. She supposed she should be grateful Jenna hadn’t turned to the next page and revealed her secret secret bucket list.

“Don’t let her bad attitude scare you,” Jenna said to Hot Guy. “She’s all bark and no bite.”

“I like bite,” Hot Guy said, and his and Piper’s eyes locked again. His were an intense, assessing hazel, a swirling, mesmerizing mix of green, brown, and gold. He was good looking, but so were a lot of men. He was leanly muscled—also not all that uncommon. But he had a way about him that created an odd fluttering in her belly. It took her a long moment to recognize it for what it was—excitement. Which made no sense. None. Zero. Zip. She wasn’t looking for anything, and he . . . well, he was obviously both sharp and witty, but his eyes seemed . . . hollow, and he hadn’t cracked a smile.

She stared at him thinking maybe they were kindred perpetually-pissed-off-at-the-world spirits. One thing for sure, he didn’t seem uncomfortable in the least as she studied him. In fact, he didn’t seem the sort to be uncomfortable in any situation.

Around them, the bar was filled with music, talking, laughter . . . the sounds of people having a good time. Someone called out for Jenna to join a dart game. Jenna slid off her stool. “Okay, so, I’m going to abandon her now. Feel free to play the gallant gentleman swooping in to save the birthday girl. Night, Piper.”

“That’s Grandma to you,” Piper called to her back, and when Jenna laughed and kept walking, Piper pulled out her phone and thumbed in a text.

Hot Guy seemed to be very slightly amused, though still no smile touched his lips. “Bet you just told your wingman that you’re going to kill her.”

Gallant Gentleman her ass. Dark and Dangerous, maybe. She shrugged. “I might’ve mentioned she shouldn’t close her eyes when she goes to sleep tonight. But yours is better. Hold please.” She typed a new text: Don’t forget, thanks to my dad, I know a ton of ways to kill someone with my pen.

“Nice,” he said, reading over her shoulder.

“You find violent tendencies nice?”

He shrugged. “Being able to defend yourself is smart.”

She paused. “You know I was just kidding about the pen thing, right?”

He cocked his head and studied her. “Were you?”

She sat back, staring at him. She had been just kidding about the killing Jenna thing. But not about knowing how to do it with a pen. No one had ever, not once, called her out on that threat as being real.

“Your dad military?” he asked.

“Was,” she said. “He’s gone now.”

He gave a single nod, like he got it at a core level. “I’m sorry.”

She supposed it was his genuine and clearly understanding reaction that had her doing something she rarely did. She said more. Unprompted. “We lived overseas in some seriously sketchy places. He made sure I knew how to defend myself and my siblings.”