Stealing Rose (The Fowler Sisters #2)(19)
I guess that’s what I get for daydreaming about sexy strangers who kiss me and abandon me, all in a matter of five minutes. Was the entirely too brief incident in Cannes a sign of things to come? Is that what I have to look forward to? Becoming consumed with work, having missed opportunities, and going home alone every night?
How depressing.
Stopping short, I realize I’m in front of the White Swan. It’s a beautiful pub, the exterior painted black with white-framed windows, the name painted in gold. Flowers spill out of boxes set just above the pub, and a giant lantern flickers as it swings gently to and fro with the breeze.
Nerves assail me out of nowhere and I bite my lower lip, unsure if I should enter or not. Why am I cautious now? It’s no big deal. If I hate hanging out with Violet’s friends, I can leave.
“Rose.”
I glance up to see Violet standing in the doorway of the pub, looking adorable in a flippy black skirt and a plain white T-shirt, a bold, chunky silver necklace dressing up the outfit. Slowly I approach her, pleased at the smile on her face, the way she glances down at her left hand and twists the diamond ring Ryder just gave her into place.
My sister looks so happy. And I’m filled with the sudden need to keep on making her happy, too.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Violet says as she pulls me into a hug.
I cling to her for probably a little too long, but she doesn’t protest. “I’m glad I came too,” I admit as I pull away from her.
She sends me a look, one I recognize and that I’ve received many times. It’s the stern, I’m-going-into-mother-mode look she’s so fond of giving me. I step back and she holds out my arms, examining me before she nods her approval. “Cute dress.”
“Love your outfit too,” I return.
Violet takes my hand and pulls me into the pub. “It’s casual Friday at the office. You’d know this if you came in once in a while.”
“Give me a break,” I murmur, hoping she won’t keep badgering me for not going to the Fleur offices. I want a guilt-free night, not one where my sister is trying to make me feel bad.
“All the single guys in here are going to give you the eye, what with the short skirt,” she continues as she pulls me through the pub. It’s already crowded, filled with plenty of the work types who are just off for the weekend, many of the men clad in fashionable suits and with equally fashionable haircuts. The place practically breathes GQ.
“Maybe I’m trying to attract a few guys. Looks like there are plenty to choose from,” I observe.
Violet flashes me a smile from over her shoulder. “Well, you’re a breath of fresh air compared to the corporate working girls who usually fill this place up. You’re all cute and flirty tonight.”
I feel cute and flirty tonight. And I like it.
A lot.
“Okay, here we are. This is my sister Rose, everyone. Rose, this is … everyone,” Violet announces as she stops at a round table filled with people. I stand at her side, releasing her hand as Ryder gets up from where he’s sitting and approaches me, giving me a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Rose,” he says with a cheeky smile before he releases me and kisses Violet full on the lips, making her wobble a little on her feet.
I’m so caught up in my sister and her future husband that when I finally check out the friendly faces sitting at the table, my gaze snags on one in particular. A rather familiar face. One I had just been thinking about, believing I’d never see him again.
My mysterious stranger. The man who kissed me senseless, squeezed my ass, and then walked away from me as if I were a brief pit stop.
“Rose.” Ryder slings his arm around my shoulders, the grin on his face infectious despite my shock. I think he’s had a few beers already. “I’d like you to meet our friends.” He starts the introductions and I nod and smile at them, murmuring a hello as I try to avoid my stranger. Because really, this is incredibly embarrassing and weird considering the last time I saw him I was naked.
In his arms.
His hands on my ass and his tongue in my mouth.
“And this is Whitney,” Violet pipes up, going to stand beside a beautiful, very blond and very icy woman who’s wearing a brittle smile that could shatter at any moment. Her eyes are big and blue, her hair shaped into a stylish bob that frames her heart-shaped face perfectly. I think I hate her. “She’s my dearest friend since arriving in London. I know you’ll adore her.”
Considering the proprietary way she’s snugly pressed against my mysterious stranger, I’m sure I’ll just adore her too.
Not really.
“So nice to meet you,” I say weakly at Whitney, and she nods and murmurs much the same. Not that I really hear her.
My gaze is stuck on my stranger, who’s staring at me with the same sort of bewilderment that I’m feeling. He looks completely different tonight compared to the last time I saw him. Wearing jeans and a faded red T-shirt, his light brown hair mussed, stubble covering his cheeks, those intense brown eyes locked on mine. He looks like … a regular guy.
A gorgeous regular guy, though, most definitely.
“And this is Whitney’s friend Caden. He just came into town,” Violet says, patting Caden—hearing his name just made me shiver, oh my God—on the shoulder.
“Caden.” I repeat his name, liking the way it feels on my tongue, how it sounds when I say it. It’s a good name, strong and sexy, and it fits him. “Nice to meet you.”