One woman, two men. Which do you think Meghan wants?
“Enjoying yourself, Meghan?”
She stilled. Cole. She’d forgotten all about him. Wearing her best cocktail party smile, she turned to face him.
“Why, yes, I am.” Manners—and more than a little curiosity about how they would respond—propelled her into making introductions. “Have you two met? Cole, this is—”
“I know who he is. And what. Frankly, I’m surprised to see you with him. I wouldn’t think you’d want to be associated with the likes of him.”
Meghan was stunned by his rudeness. “Cole, I don’t think—”
Nick’s hand covered hers. “It’s okay, Meghan. Cole and I go back a long way.”
“We’ve known each other too long, if you ask me.”
Nick seemed unfazed by Cole’s naked hostility. “I agree. But I don’t think Meghan’s interested in our personal problems.”
Meghan heard the steel-rimmed warning in Nick’s voice, looked from Cole’s flushed and angry face to Nick’s hand tightening on her own, and suddenly became very interested in their personal problems. But she wasn’t tactless enough to interrupt their standoff and say so, and after several tense seconds, it was Cole who backed down.
“Have a pleasant evening, Meghan,” he said tightly, and vanished.
Nick resumed his meal as if it hadn’t been interrupted.
Meghan found it impossible to do the same. “Would you mind telling me what that was all about?” In those few tense seconds when Nick’s hand had covered hers, she’d felt the enmity between the men so strongly she would have sworn they’d have liked nothing better than to let fly with their fists, right there in the restaurant.
Nick shrugged. “It’s an old story. Goes back to high school.” With a smile and a wink, he snagged a menu from a passing waitress. “How about dessert? Think they have brownies on the menu?”
Meghan swallowed her frustration with an effort. As usual, she’d get no answers from Nick. You’d almost think he’d been trained in the art of deflection. Half an hour later, they left the restaurant by a side door that opened onto the pier, having agreed on taking a stroll. As they walked the docks, Nick was pensive, but Meghan found she enjoyed his quiet companionship almost as much as she enjoyed talking with him.
She also enjoyed the simple pleasure that radiated from wherever he touched her—her arm, elbow, waist, back. Every nerve ending in her body had become attuned to his touch, and she wished he’d put his arm around her. The thought sent sweet shivers of anticipation down her spine despite the inescapable, sweltering heat.
They returned to the parking lot, and as Nick unlocked his newly washed truck, Meghan admired his hands. So strong, yet capable of heartwarming gentleness, as he’d shown with George. Her gaze roved the breadth of his shoulders beneath his tailored jacket and she suddenly felt a compelling need to slip her hands inside said jacket and explore the hard muscles she knew it hid. To feel the strength of those arms around her, holding her close.
Nick swung the driver’s door open. The sharp sexual awareness in his dark eyes when he caught her watching him rocked her to the core. She stood there, unable to move for the need coursing through her. How was she supposed to survive being alone with him in the truck?
“If I don’t kiss you right now, I think I’ll go crazy,” he said, his voice impossibly deep and husky.
Meghan’s breath caught in her throat. “I know the feeling.”
She stilled. Cole. She’d forgotten all about him. Wearing her best cocktail party smile, she turned to face him.
“Why, yes, I am.” Manners—and more than a little curiosity about how they would respond—propelled her into making introductions. “Have you two met? Cole, this is—”
“I know who he is. And what. Frankly, I’m surprised to see you with him. I wouldn’t think you’d want to be associated with the likes of him.”
Meghan was stunned by his rudeness. “Cole, I don’t think—”
Nick’s hand covered hers. “It’s okay, Meghan. Cole and I go back a long way.”
“We’ve known each other too long, if you ask me.”
Nick seemed unfazed by Cole’s naked hostility. “I agree. But I don’t think Meghan’s interested in our personal problems.”
Meghan heard the steel-rimmed warning in Nick’s voice, looked from Cole’s flushed and angry face to Nick’s hand tightening on her own, and suddenly became very interested in their personal problems. But she wasn’t tactless enough to interrupt their standoff and say so, and after several tense seconds, it was Cole who backed down.
“Have a pleasant evening, Meghan,” he said tightly, and vanished.
Nick resumed his meal as if it hadn’t been interrupted.
Meghan found it impossible to do the same. “Would you mind telling me what that was all about?” In those few tense seconds when Nick’s hand had covered hers, she’d felt the enmity between the men so strongly she would have sworn they’d have liked nothing better than to let fly with their fists, right there in the restaurant.
Nick shrugged. “It’s an old story. Goes back to high school.” With a smile and a wink, he snagged a menu from a passing waitress. “How about dessert? Think they have brownies on the menu?”
Meghan swallowed her frustration with an effort. As usual, she’d get no answers from Nick. You’d almost think he’d been trained in the art of deflection. Half an hour later, they left the restaurant by a side door that opened onto the pier, having agreed on taking a stroll. As they walked the docks, Nick was pensive, but Meghan found she enjoyed his quiet companionship almost as much as she enjoyed talking with him.
She also enjoyed the simple pleasure that radiated from wherever he touched her—her arm, elbow, waist, back. Every nerve ending in her body had become attuned to his touch, and she wished he’d put his arm around her. The thought sent sweet shivers of anticipation down her spine despite the inescapable, sweltering heat.
They returned to the parking lot, and as Nick unlocked his newly washed truck, Meghan admired his hands. So strong, yet capable of heartwarming gentleness, as he’d shown with George. Her gaze roved the breadth of his shoulders beneath his tailored jacket and she suddenly felt a compelling need to slip her hands inside said jacket and explore the hard muscles she knew it hid. To feel the strength of those arms around her, holding her close.
Nick swung the driver’s door open. The sharp sexual awareness in his dark eyes when he caught her watching him rocked her to the core. She stood there, unable to move for the need coursing through her. How was she supposed to survive being alone with him in the truck?
“If I don’t kiss you right now, I think I’ll go crazy,” he said, his voice impossibly deep and husky.
Meghan’s breath caught in her throat. “I know the feeling.”
Liana Laverentz
