Page 11 of Right Man, Right Time
Biting the corner of her lip, looking coy as shit, she says, “I took a chance, and by the grace of good luck, it worked out for me.”
“So you don’t know each other?” the guy asks.
Ollie shakes her head. “No.”
“Never seen her before,” I add.
“Well, hell, you convinced me. I thought you were hiding something from me, Ollie.”
She chuckles and shakes her head. “Nope, just a random guy.”
“Hell,” the guy says while pulling on his hair.
Yeah, hell is right.
I could have convinced myself we were together just from that kiss and the way she cuddled into me. I hate to admit it, but it felt good for a second to have someone need me again. To have someone touch me, cuddle into me, treat me as theirs.
Turning back toward me, Ollie says, “Well, I’ll let you get back to your drink. Thank you so much again. I can’t tell you the kind of favor you just did for me. I truly appreciate it.” And with that, she takes her friend by the arm and starts to pull away.
I’m not sure what comes over me.
Maybe it’s the kiss.
Maybe it’s the thought of having to see Sarah around my sacred space.
Or maybe it’s the Scotch.
Before I can stop myself, I say, “You owe me.”
She pauses and looks over her shoulder. “What?”
I grip my glass and lift it to my mouth. From over the rim, I say, “You owe me.” I take a sip. “I did you a favor, so I think you should do me one.” I kick out the barstool next to me and nod toward it. “Take a seat.”
Her eyes flit from the seat and then back up to me. “If you think I’m going to sleep with you, you better think again.”
“I don’t want to sleep with you,” I say, even though the prospect of it is appealing. Wouldn’t mind tasting those lips again.
Her friend leans down, and even though it seems like he tries to keep his comment quiet, I can still hear him. “I think you should at least listen to him. He did just let you sexually assault him with your mouth.”
“Hey, I gave him three seconds to say no. There was no sexual assault. That kiss was consensual . . . right?” she asks me on a wince.
I nod. “It was consensual.”
“See. Consensual. Everything is on the up and up.” She gestures toward me. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have some drinking to do tonight, and I’m sure you have the goal at hand. Have a good night.”
“Sit. Down,” I say in a firmer tone, which stops her.
She slowly turns on her heel. “Uh, excuse me?” she asks, a spark of fire lighting up her burning irises. “Did you just try to use some alpha-hero voice on me?”
“Alpha-hero voice? What the hell is that?” I ask.
“I don’t think he reads romances like you,” the friend says. “And I think he has a point. You owe him.”
“Ross, whose side are you on?” Ollie asks, flapping her hands.
Ah, his name is Ross.
Man, does he look like a Ross. The name fits him perfectly.
