Around me, I could hear the low murmur of voices, the two men who’d chased after Carly at first, and the others who joined up soon after. I heard what sounded like a report, and then a stream of cussing, a promise of regular updates. I didn't look at any of it, letting myself enjoy the time alone with my drink.
I finished it far sooner than I wanted to and finally turned around. I saw the neat little bar area where she’d poured the glass and went over, intent on washing it up. I may have been rough around the edges, but I had some manners.
“Do you have a job?”
Carly's question stopped me in my tracks.
I went still, my spine going poker straight. Slowly, I turned. Meeting her gaze dead-on, I inclined my head. “Why?” It came out more harshly than I'd intended, but I didn't apologize.
A cute, impish sort of smile curled the corners of her pretty mouth. Man, I should have stolen a kiss when I'd had the chance. I’d regret that for the rest of my life. Maybe she’d never remember anything else about me, but if I’d kissed her, I could have given her something to remember.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?”
That question caught me off-guard, and I didn't have an answer for her. Scowling, I reached up and rubbed the back of my neck, trying to figure out the best way to answer.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the looks a few of the hotel suits slid me. They were quick. Subtle, too. But I know that kind of look. You stupid or something?
Or something.
I curled my lip in their direction.
Judging by the subtle tensing of Julio’s body, he realized something was amiss. Now he was real subtle, but I caught the quick turn of his head, the way he cocked his eyebrow at his people. Their faces blanked quick as you please.
Fuck ‘em.
“I figure you had to be somebody,” I said, shrugging. “Reporters don’t go around shoving their cameras in the face of your everyday average bombshell just for the hell of it. But...no. I don’t know who you are.”
Carly’s head fell back as she laughed. Maybe I should've been embarrassed by that, but the sound of it wasn’t mocking. I knew when I was being laughed at.
And I knew that wasn't it. I hadn’t heard the sound of pure and simple happiness very often, and maybe that was why I recognized the difference so easily.
She was just happy. Delighted, even. And it had something to do with the fact that I didn't know who she was.
This day just kept getting weirder.
She came toward me, still grinning, although the laugh was fading. I could still hear the echo of it, and it was hard not to let my mouth curve up in reaction. I wanted to smile at her, share in that bright, infectious pleasure, despite the fact that I didn’t really understand why she was so delighted.
It was a puzzle, and I was so busy trying to figure it out that she caught me off-guard. Not something that normally happened to me. It wasn't smart, not for a guy like me. It could end up getting an ex-con like me dead, so I'd spent years honing my awareness. But she was something I'd never expected. Or experienced.
I tensed as she reached out, my body reacting instinctively. When her fingers brushed my cheeks, I caught her wrists. What the hell was she doing?
Then she swayed closer and the shock had me loosening my grip. I didn't understand why her goons weren't stopping her. Because there was no way she actually wanted...
She dragged my mouth down even as she rose up on her toes. Before my brain could process, she pressed her lips against mine.
Hard.
Lust, visceral and hot, twisted through me like a punch to the gut.
Fuck.
She was already retreating when I caught her shoulders and did exactly what I’d wanted to do pretty much from the second I’d tackled her out on the street. Then, it would have been pretty damn out of place. Now...well, maybe it was out of place, but for that split second when her lips had brushed mine, I felt it. That strange, seductive tug.
And, hell, she started it.
I waited for her to pull back, but she sighed against my mouth and leaned closer.
What should have been a fast, impersonal kiss became something slower, softer...sweeter. I licked at her lips and she hummed deep in her throat, opened her mouth for me. My fingers tightened on her shoulders and I started to slide my hands down.
But the loud clearing of somebody’s throat interrupted before things could go any further.
We broke apart and I could feel my face heating up while she studied me. There was something in her eyes I hadn’t seen until that moment, and I wasn't sure how that made me feel.
She took a step back and I wanted to grab her, pull her close, make everybody go away, make the whole world go away. And I knew she could do that for me, do the one thing that no one else had been able to do. She could make me forget. Forget where I was, who I was.
Instead of acting on what I wanted, however, I put more distance between us. My booted foot kicked something and I looked down, realizing I’d dropped the glass that had held the bourbon. I stooped down, grabbing it. When I straightened, I caught sight of her from the corner of my eye.
Lust clenched my stomach at the look on her face. She was still watching me, wearing a small smile. The kind of smile a woman gets when maybe she wants a man to make the whole world go away.
I could do it, too. But she’d hate me after, either because she'd found out who I was or because I'd left before she could.
“So.” One of the suits cleared his throat again, cutting through the silence.
I hunched my shoulders and cut around her to the counter. I needed something between us.
The hotel suits were studiously looking elsewhere, while the other two – I decided to call them Tango and Cash – were glaring at me. Hard. That was fine. I planned on getting the hell out of here anyway. Once I left, maybe Tango would finally call that damn cab and get his ass to one of the hospitals a few blocks away, so they could set his arm. He was all pale, his forehead shiny and his mouth tight with pain.
I hurt just looking at him.
He was older than I'd realized too, and that just made me feel worse about what I'd done. He wasn't exactly old, but he had at least half a dozen years on me.
“Are you going to answer my questions?”
I shifted my gaze to Carly, for just a moment, and tried to remember what she'd asked me. After a moment, it came to me. “No, I don’t know who you are, and no, I don’t have a job at the moment.” I paused and then gave a thin smile. “I’m between projects.”
Between projects sounded so much better than unemployed. Especially when I was unemployed – again – for the third time in a year. I’d start job hunting first thing tomorrow and, sooner or later, I’d find something. But it would be suck work, for suck pay, despite the fact that I was qualified for all sorts of jobs. There were plenty of people out there willing to hire people with a record, but there were ex-cons and then there were ex-cons. I was one of the latter.
“Between projects,” she echoed. “So does that mean you have something else lined up?”
I glared at her. “What is this, Twenty Questions?”
“Is it bigger than a breadbox?” She grinned, apparently not intimidated by my annoyance.
Damn, that made her all the more desirable, even if her questions were annoying me.
“I’m curious.” She shrugged. “I...well. It won’t do me any good to talk about it if you have a job lined up. Do you?”
“There’s always something floating around.” I kept my voice vague and glanced at the door, then the time. It was already nine. It was going to be eleven by the time I got home, even if I left now. And I wanted to get an early start tomorrow, so I needed to get out of here. “Look, I need to get going, so if you all don’t—”