His slow smile widened, his gaze landed on her glass just as she lifted it to wet her parched throat.
Oh. My. God. Ethan Bond wastalkingto her.
Tall. Dark. Gorgeous. The kind of man whose name came with wealth, success, and an effortless confidence that could knock the air right out of your lungs, and your feet out from under you.
He could have any woman in this place. God knew there were plenty flashing perfect smiles, endless legs to go with a whole lot of tits and ass. But he came over to sitnext to her.
Nora Jones.
The woman who’d worked her ass off—literally—to earn the curves she had. No one would call her a model, and she didn’t need them to. She was strong. Healthy. Comfortable in her skin for the first time in her life.
Maybe not as confident internally, but she was getting there.
And if Ethan Bond had chosenherto talk to tonight… maybe she was doing something right.
“From?” he asked. “Or do we just want to sit here and drink in silence? I’m adaptable.”
“Burlington,” she said.
“You’ll get nicer weather here for sure. Not as harsh of winters, but you can’t escape the snow completely.”
“No,” she said, putting a polite smile on her face. She was so not used to small talk.
Or sitting in a bar alone.
Definitely not a man hitting on her.
This was the start of her new life. To be the person she always watched from afar.
It was liberating to know she succeeded that way to strangers.
Not that Ethan was a stranger, but he didn’t know that.
She turned to look at the action some more. The place was more than half full that she could see. More than when she’d been sitting at the slots steadily losing money she couldn’t afford to lose.
But it was all about tonight. About preparing her for the first face-to-face meeting she’d have with her father in over five years.
He’d be in for a shock and she couldn’t wait for his surprise. And maybe a little praise at how she turned it all around.
The bartender slid up and Ethan pushed his empty beer forward.
“I’ll take what she’s having,” he said, a teasing glint in his eye. “I’d offer you another, but unless you want to pound that one, we can sit here like sophisticated adults and chat.”
A soft laugh slipped from her lips. In her own ears it came out low and husky, almost seductive. Definitely not what she’d been aiming for. She’d been trying to keep from giggling like a giddy schoolgirl, but the way his eyes darkened told her she’d nailed something else entirely.
And three hours later, when they stumbled into his room, their clothes falling to the floor as fast as she landed on the mattress, Nora told herself to let go.
To be free.
To live in the moment.
To give herself one night of pleasure, of being the woman she’d always dreamed she could be.
But sometime in the dark hours before dawn, the thrill bled out and the regret seeped in sharp and cold like a nasty slap to the face. Or a condescending statement from her father.
What the hell did I do this time?
The guilt rolled over her in waves higher than a storm pounding them to the beach, drowning her in that familiar pit of self-loathing.
