Take a Chance on Me(7)

Curious, he asked, “And are you passing?”

Another adorable pout. “I don’t think so.”

That mouth looked like she’d just eaten a bowl of strawberries and the juices had stained her lips. He wanted to bite her. Lick her to see if she tasted as sweet as she looked.

She got all squinty, another pretzel firmly in hand. “I’m drunk.”

Unfortunately. “I don’t doubt that.”

Her gaze caught his. Darted away. Her pink tongue flitted out to wet her full lower lip. It glistened like an invitation. “I’d leave, but I can’t walk. My feet hurt.”

“I wouldn’t let you go, anyway.” He was a little taken aback to find the words true. It had been a long time since he’d wanted anything, but he still recognized the spark of desire. He wanted her, and wasn’t ready for her to walk off into the sunset yet. The right or wrong of the situation didn’t much matter.

She swirled a finger over the edge of her ice water. “Do you think you could stop me?

He cocked a brow and gave her a once-over. “Considering the way you hobbled in here, I think I can take you.”

Dark lashes almost obscured the green of her irises as she squinted. “I’m supposed to be getting independent now.”

“I see,” he said, considering the guy she’d ditched at the altar for the first time. It took a lot to drive a woman out a church window with nothing but the clothes on her back. “Everyone needs a little rescue sometime.”

“You’re not one of those knight-in-shining-armor guys, are you?” She said the words as if they were foul.

“Not normally, but I’m making an exception for you.” He was surprised to find he wanted the role, despite her distain.

“I don’t want an exception.” Her tone had taken on a decided wail.

“Too bad.” Yep, he wasn’t budging on this one. She wanted to stand on her own two feet. He understood, but it only made him more determined.

“Why me?”

“Because I want to.” It was that simple. Besides, she’d probably take off in the morning and he’d never see her again. One night to break the monotony wouldn’t hurt. Before she could respond, he turned and walked the length of the bar. Flipping open the counter, he rounded the corner, striding to stand in front of her. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything chivalrous. Won’t you let me?”

Even white teeth nibbled on her bottom lip and he curled his hand into a fist to keep from stroking his thumb over the abused, moist flesh. Glassy, pensive eyes blinked up at him.

He stepped close enough to feel the warmth of her skin. “What kind of a man would I be if I left you stranded?”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” But her voice quivered, giving away her doubts.

The last thing he should do was touch her, but he did anyway, trailing a finger along the line of her jaw. “Come to my office. You can lie down on the couch and get off your feet. Give yourself some time to think about your options.”

She sucked in a shaky breath. “Are you going to take advantage of me?”

“Maybe later, after the whiskey has worn off.” He brushed the veil away from her face, pushing the tulle from her shoulders. He wanted to rescue her, but had no intention of deluding her into thinking he was a saint.

“Now’s the time I’m supposed to say something proper, right? Like, ‘I’m sorry but I’m off to join the convent’?”

“That would be a waste.” He stroked over the curve of her shoulder.

She shivered under the tips of his fingers. “I was getting married today.”

And he really should care, but he didn’t. Not even a little bit. He leaned down so his mouth hovered next to her ear. “The dress gave you away.”

She pulled in a great lungful of air. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Nope.” He straightened and looked into those big, wide eyes. “Just making sure you’re clear my intentions aren’t one-hundred-percent honorable. Are you going to come with me?”

She scrutinized him for a full thirty seconds, then nodded so slightly that he couldn’t be sure he hadn’t imagined it until she hopped off the stool.

The second her feet hit the ground, her face contorted into a grimace. “Ouch!” She threw out her hands, using his body to catch herself as she swayed, giggling. The alcohol she’d consumed was surely rushing to her head. “I guess you were right about those shots.”

He slid his arms around her waist, wishing for skin instead of the scratchy beads. “I usually am.”

“Aren’t you modest?” Cheek resting against his chest, she sighed.

The sound was so content that it warmed some of the ice inside him. It had been a long time since a woman had rested against him, and Maddie Donovan felt particularly good.

Over her head, Sam caught his gaze, mouth quirked in a sardonic smirk.

Mitch ignored the smug bastard as she cuddled into his arms like a newborn kitten. Next to Mitch’s six-three height, she was tiny and delicate in his arms. The smell of honey and almonds wafting from her hair enveloped him. Absolutely delicious.

Nails tickled his back through the cotton of his T-shirt as she wound herself around him. “You feel awesome.” She must have put her earlier misgivings to rest.