“I can’t believe we lived in New York City for six years and almost never went out to the clubs,” I said as we walked down Main Street. At 9:30 most people were on their way home fromdinner, but a line had started outside The Wharf—a seafood restaurant by day, dive bar/club by night.
They’d cleared the tables in the back of the restaurant and a DJ was set up in the corner. A long bar spanned the length of the room in the back. We navigated in that direction.
My heart caught in my throat when I saw the most handsome brown-haired man I’d ever seen in my life leaning against the dark wood bar. The sight of him made every nerve ending on the surface of my skin prickle with awareness. And for once, I didn’t feel guilty about it.God bless Natalie for making me wear the hottest dress in my closet tonight.
Not once had it occurred to me that I’d run into him out on a Saturday night. But we didn’t talk much on the weekends, so I didn’t know what he usually did. Maybe he went out all the time.
Who was watching Luna?
By the time my mind ran through its stream of questions he caught me looking at him. First, a hint of surprise. Then, a smile that spread across his face like a reflex.
I smiled back just as broadly and stopped walking for a moment. His grin was infectious, and I had this feeling I could look at that stunning face—his dark eyes alight, that wide, easy smile—forever.
He waved us over and I grabbed Natalie’s hand to weave through the growing crowd on the dance floor. “That’s Luke,” I said. Natalie’s head swiveled and she found him right away, gaping. He was wearing a black T-shirt, shorts, and those boat shoes. I could see the tattoo on his shoulder peeking out from under his sleeve. His dark brown hair was tousled, but his beard was trimmed and tidy. He was the tallest one in the group of guys he was standing with. I didn’t blame Natalie for staring.He looks hot.
“That’s him?” Natalie asked, shocked.
“Yep.”
“Wow,” she said as we closed the gap between us, waiting,probably deliberately, until we were in earshot to add, “you told me he was handsome, not that he’s a Greekgod.”
Luke’s lip ticked up.He must have heard her. We were two and a half strong cocktails deep at this point, so we weren’t being particularly quiet, even with the music blaring.
“Hi!” I shouted. “This is my friend Natalie. Natalie, this is Luke.”
“Hey, nice to meet you.” She took his hand. “Thanks for keeping my friend here gainfully employed.”
“She’s very employable,” he said, licking his lips and flicking a glance in my direction.
I tried—and failed—to bite back my smile.What does that even mean?
Luke introduced us to his friends—Jeremiah and one of their other friends from college who was visiting and apparently the instigator of this night out. Natalie and I ordered vodka sodas and lingered by the bar with them.
“Good thing Auntie Francesca was willing to babysit,” his friend—his name was Clark—clapped Luke on the back.
I pouted.
“What’s that face about?” Luke asked.
“I’m jealous. Do you think she likes Francesca more than me?” I whined. I had no idea where this stream of consciousness admission was coming from.
“Are you anin-your-feelingsdrunk? Because it’s kind of adorable.” His smile seemed like it was just for me. “Also, it’s not a contest. My kid can have more than one female role model.”
“You think I’m a role model?” I squeaked. That was such a nice thing for him to say.I don’t know if I’d consider myself a role model. I did fail at my job, after all.
“Of course,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows like it was a silly thing to ask.
I beamed at him. He was so nice. And nice to look at. And strong. And sensitive.Damn, I’m drunk. I should get out of here before I embarrass myself.
The music changed to one of our favorite songs from law school and Natalie grabbed my hand. “The dance floor beckons!” she said.
“You coming?” I called over my shoulder.
Luke shook his head. “Yeah, no,” he drawled. “I don’t do”—his hand gestured in the direction of the dance floor—“that.”
I popped my shoulder up as if to say,suit yourself, and followed Natalie into the crowd, hips swaying.
I looked over after a song and made eye contact with him from across the room. He was leaning an elbow on the bar, a beer in his hand, not even pretending he wasn’t watching me dance. My stomach somersaulted.
