Page 10 of Right Man, Right Time
Behind her is a lanky man whose brow is pinched together so tightly that I bet it could hold a quarter if I slipped it in.
And the other man just keeps blinking . . . rapidly, as if he can’t quite comprehend what he’s witnessing.
From a guess, I think Cranky and Lanky are the people Ollie—that’s her name, right?—is trying to save face with, and the blinker has to be a friend.
“See, told you he was over here,” Ollie says as she places her hand on mine. “He’s just shy, is all.”
Ehh, shy? Not really, but I’ll go with it.
I nod at them, not saying anything while still acknowledging their presence.
“Well, I, uh . . . I don’t know what to say,” the girl says.
“You’re . . . you’re dating Silas Taters?” Lanky asks. Honestly, I’m shocked it took this long for the guy to say something.
“Oh, you know each other?” Ollie asks, clearly having no idea who the hell I am.
“Everyone knows who Silas Taters is,” Lanky says.
Clearly, not everyone.
“It’s . . . it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Lanky says, holding his hand out.
Out of respect for my image, I take it and offer him a solid shake. “Thanks, pleasure is mine, man.”
I feel Ollie stiffen against me, probably wondering what the hell is going on and how her ex-boyfriend knows who I am, so I decide to help her out a bit.
“Ollie and I don’t talk about hockey much . . .” I leave it at that, letting them fill in the blank.
Cranky’s eyes narrow. “Wait, if you’re dating a hockey player, then why are you so up in arms about your assignment?”
Hmm, wonder what the assignment is. Also, really curious why Ollie and Cranky are nemeses. Who threw the first punch? Who wronged who? Was it because the ex-boyfriend was stolen? Not to be a dick, but he doesn’t seem like much of a prize to me.
“Uh, because he just said we don’t talk about hockey much,” Ollie says, and I’m somewhat impressed with her ability to think on her feet. “I clearly don’t want to bother him about it.”
I bring her in tighter and lightly stroke her stomach with my thumb, catching Lanky’s eyes falling to the movement. Huh, the guy has some jealousy showing, so hopefully, this helps her out.
And keeping with the shy guy mentality, I quietly say, “You can bother me, babe.”
She turns a few inches and cups my cheek while saying, “Thank you.” And then, once again, her soft, delicious lips touch mine, and she lightly kisses me. It’s short, but goddamn, is it sweet. I could easily kiss this girl more. She wouldn’t even have to ask me to pretend.
“Well,” the girl huffs. “We should get going. We have plans.”
“Yeah, okay,” Lanky says, his eyes never averting from Ollie’s and my connection.
“Good luck with your assignment. I think you’ll need it,” Cranky says right before she turns Lanky around and pushes him toward the bar’s exit.
Once they’re out of sight, Ollie turns toward me, gratefulness all over her face. And hell . . . she’s beautiful, but I only get a quick glance before she’s pulling me into a tight hug, her tits pressing into my chest. “Oh my God, thank you so much. You completely saved me.”
Not sure what to do, I return the three-second embrace.
When she pulls away, I get a good look at her.
Petite, toned body. Large chest for her size, beautiful long brown hair that seems to be naturally wavy, green, almond-shaped eyes, and plump lips. She’s an absolute smoke show.
“Uh, yeah, glad I could be of service.”
“What the hell is going on?” the friend says as he steps forward. “What was that, Ollie?”
