The Trade(20)

I glance at the bartender who took my order. He’s talking to Maddox Paige who’s across the bar. His eyes shoot to me and narrow, darkening a shade when they fall to my breasts.

Ugh . . . pig.

Not only is he as discreet as Swiss cheese—is that a saying?—but he’s also commandeering my drink order by distracting the bartender.

Screw it, I’m not that thirsty. I turn quickly and run into a thick chest, my hands flying out in front of me to lessen the impact.

“Oh, pardon me,” I say quickly and take a step back. When I glance up, I see a kind pair of eyes staring down at me.

Slowly, as recognition hits him, his smile tugs on the corner of his mouth. “Natalie, I didn’t know you were here.”

Rich and sultry, his voice thrills me in all the right ways, making me wonder what it would sound like if we were both in the bedroom, naked, spread out against a fluffy comforter . . .

Wow, Dottie really got into my head.

Turning on a smile and swallowing my nerves, I say, “Hey Cory. Yeah, Jason and Dottie dragged me with them. I was just going to their place for some ice cream.”

He looks me up and down. “You go to your brother’s apartment for ice cream looking like this?”

A blush creeps up my cheek and for a second, I think Cory is flirting with me—just for a second—until the bartender whistles to grab my attention. “Miss, your drink.”

“Oh.” I take it and thank him with a tip that he doesn’t deserve. When I turn back to Cory, I watch him signal to the bartender for another beer as he sets his empty glass down.

Unsure what to say, I try to scoot by him but he asks, “What do you have in there? Sprite?”

I laugh and say, “Close. Sprite and vodka.”

“Really?”

I nod. “Yeah, it’s one of many drinks I prefer when socializing.”

“One of many? How many are there?”

“A few. Depends on how I’m feeling. I wanted something simple tonight so I went with vodka and Sprite. If I was feeling a little more colorful, I would have asked for a dash of cranberry juice and a lime.”

“So why aren’t you colorful tonight then?”

Not wanting to get into the ins and outs of my personal life and the insufferable dating experiences of the last couple weeks, I say, “Oh you know, work stuff. My boss is a demon.”

“Isn’t your boss Jason?” he asks, looking a little confused as he takes his drink from the bartender and tips him as well.

“My point exactly, a demon.”

He chuckles and gently places his hand on my back and points to a table. “Want to catch up?”

Catch up?

As if we’re old friends?

As if we actually know each other but haven’t seen each other in months and therefore, we need to fill each other in on our personal lives?

Umm . . . am I missing something?

But from the press of his hand to my back and the way he’s looking at me hopefully, I find myself making my way to the table with Cory at my side.

I just hope Dottie doesn’t get any smart ideas.





Chapter Six





CORY





I told myself I’d stay away.

I told myself I wouldn’t talk to her unless she approached me.

I told myself I wouldn’t even consider touching her.

And yet, here I am, looking like a lovesick puppy, pawing at her feet, pushing her away from everyone so I can have a moment alone.

Didn’t see her . . . what a fucking lie.

The moment she walked into the room, I saw her. It was as if my eyes were magnets and she was the only metal in the room. I was drawn to her, and for good reason. She’s so goddamn gorgeous.

Curvaceous body in a skin-tight black dress, heels that make her legs look longer than they are, legs I could envision wrapped around my waist, holding on tightly as I thrust harshly into her. Her shoulder-length hair has that ombré thing going on that all the girls are sporting now, but it isn’t dark and brassy like some of the hairdos I’ve seen. It’s a beautiful shade of caramel with the front pieces highlighting her face, making her blue eyes stand out even more than before.

And then . . . that smile.

Fuck. When she ran into me, recognized me, I caught a glimpse of it. It wasn’t extended fully like I saw at the fundraiser, but it was big enough to make my heart trip in my chest and for my pulse to jump-start.

Before running into her, I spoke with a few guys about the upcoming season and their holidays, but the entire time I could feel where she was in the room, like our bodies were doing a blind tango, never touching, but close to it. Every time I looked over at her, to see her talking to Jason’s fiancée, I begged, pleaded for her to lift her head, for her to see me, but no such luck. She was buried in her conversation with Dottie. When I saw her go to the bar, I warned myself to stay put, I told myself not to move closer.

She’s married.

There’s nothing I can do.

But as she tapped her foot, waiting for her drink, I felt myself down the rest of my beer and before I could stop, I was headed to the bar for a refill.

The entire time, I reiterated what a moron I am, that was until I asked her to catch up.

First mistake of the night, walking over to the bar. Second, asking for more time with her.