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“But doesn’t it mean bad luck or something?”
“Yeah, but I like to think I’ve transformed the meaning of it.”
He looked at her like he wasn’t sure what she meant, and Jinx could tell he was one of those guys who would never get what made her tick. And that was okay because she had no intention of going any further than a drink and some banter to save her slightly dented pride in front of Logan.
Yes, she was playing a game, but she knew a football hunk like Russ would have no trouble replacing her, so what was the harm in it? Besides, she couldn’t stop herself at this point.
They arrived at a blue Plexiglas bar with colored lights behind it, and Russ pulled up one of the high bar chairs for her, taking the one next to her.
When the Manhattans were set on the bar in front of them, Russ clinked glasses with her and the strong bitter taste of the whiskey seemed like the perfect tonic right now. The way it hit her stomach was not great since she had been too nervous to eat anything except a bite of apple before she left Jenna’s apartment and the server working for Portia had refilled her rum and Coke at least three times while they were talking about her jewelry.
She focused on Russ, trying to let his playful banter take her mind off Logan, but she was failing miserably on that score.
And there it was—the tingle of Logan’s eyes on her back. Jinx did not dare turn her head to confirm it, but she didn’t need to. She was one of those people who would bet the house on her feelings. Yeah, maybe she’d been wrong a few times, but…
Oh. Aha. Bet confirmed. Logan appeared in her peripheral vision now, stepping up to the bar on her right side. She kept her focus on Russ, letting her fingers touch his forearm that rested on the bar.
“Hey, Russ,” Logan said, his voice smooth and deep, the sensuality of it vibrating right through her.
“Hey, Logan,” her new friend said. Jinx wasn’t surprised they knew each other. They obviously ran in the same circles. And long before Logan became a huge success he used to make friends with everyone he met.
She stared into her drink, his scent surrounding her, that same sandalwood she used to smell on him when she was a teen. If she looked at him, her game would be up. He would see how much she wanted him, how much power he had over her in so many ways.
“Jinx…”
“What?” she ground out between clenched teeth.
Russ let out a rumbling chuckle. “So you’re the one who got her all pissed off, huh? You tend to do that to women.”
“Guess so,” Logan said. “Listen, will you excuse us for a minute?”
“Sure, man.” Russ got up. “No harm, no foul, right?” he said, obviously worried he’d moved in on a woman who might belong to Logan.
As he walked away, Logan said, “How many drinks have you had tonight?”
Her head snapped around and she glared at him. But he was so close that it threw her off, shaking her up. Good thing she was sitting on the bar chair or she might have buckled. It also meant she was face-to-face with him rather than staring into his broad chest as she would be if she were standing, not that she couldn’t feel the overpowering force of his gloriously masculine physique next to her. But his face… Logan’s sculpted cheekbones and dark penetrating eyes and sumptuous lips that she wanted so badly on hers…
She stopped her wild thoughts and shot back, “None of your business.” She turned away, her fingers wrapping around the stem of the cocktail glass. She wanted to take a sip in defiance of him, but with him watching her so closely she was afraid her nerves would make her hand wobbly.
The steady calm and confidence she had fought to maintain earlier with Portia had completely dissolved at the sight of him. Suddenly she was that awkward teen again, the girl who spied on him and her brother whenever she could, every glimpse of Logan a treasured image to store away in her secret vault.
Of course, there was the time at a community picnic when she saw him in the woods kissing a girl, his hands all over her. It had both excited her and upset her. At night in bed she would move her own hands over her body pretending it was Logan, imagining him kissing her, craving her with the hunger she felt for him.
His hand reached out and pulled her glass away. He glanced at the bartender, saying, “She’s flagged.”
That did it. “Stop playing big brother. I don’t need anyone watching over me and I don’t need your favors.”
“So, how come you showed up tonight?”
“I actually came here to tell you that very thing, but when I got to the door they sent me directly to Portia.”
“Great. Bet she loved your work.”
“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “She hasn’t made a definite commitment.”
“She will. And you should charge her for—”
“I do not need your advice or guidance.” Jinx slid off the high bar chair intending to walk away, but she slipped and nearly toppled. Logan caught her, one arm around her waist, the other under her breasts. And there was that burn again.
