“If you’ll excuse me, not-Britney. I’ll be right back.”
I watch him go, because I can’t not get a peek at that backside. Oof. Tingles go down my arms and over my scalp. It’s probably just the alcohol, but I like how I feel right now. The anger and near-panic of what’s about to happen to me is still there, but a man like not-Angus? He could certainly soothe those feelings for a while.
I still can’t quite believe I’m going to be married off to a man that I don’t even know. The screaming match I had with my father about it did no good, nor will it. Nothing I say or do will change his mind. I’m trapped. Sure, I could run away, and I’ve thought about it in the sparse hours that have passed since the worse conversation of my life. But that would mean leaving my sisters alone, defenseless against our father. I’ve raised them since our mother walked out, and nothing could make me abandon them, too. They need me.
No, I have to stay. Like it or not, I have no choice but to do as my father says—if nothing else, to keep my sisters safe. Frankie isn’t that much younger than me. Knowing Dad, he’ll forceherinto the marriage if I don’t follow through. I can’t do that to her.
My chest expands painfully, panic rearing its ugly head. Motioning to the bartender for another drink, I’m slipping further into my despair when a warm body sidles up to me. The cologne is familiar. Pepper, cedar, bergamot. How I recognize it so viscerally, I don’t know.
“Turns out my plans for the evening have been cancelled,” he whispers low in my ear. “I’m all yours, if you want me. I’d love nothing more than to make you smile for real.”
I do not think twice. Whipping out my phone, I shoot off a quick text to my friend and then tuck my cell away.
“Listen, um—” I pause, my eyes searching his.
That confident, sexy, slightly dangerous smile is back. “Clayton.”
“Clayton,” I repeat, enjoying the feel of his name in my mouth. I wasn’t expecting that, but it suits him. “My plans have changed, too. So I guess that makes me all yours.”
“Tell me your name, lass,” he says. “That way we’re not strangers.”
“I’m Charlie,” I tell him. It doesn’t even occur to me to lie, even if this is a one-night stand.
“Charlie. I like that.” He runs a hand over his mouth, fully checking me out, nodding to himself.
And then he steps back and holds out his hand, waiting for me to make my choice. Giving me the space to change my mind.
Which I won’t. I’ll lose my virginity on my own terms, thank you very much.
I take his hand with a smile and let him help me off the stool, the two of us making our way through the crowd toward the exit.
This is it.
There’s no turning back.
2
CHARLIE
I’m not totally naïve.I watch the news and gloss over the horror stories online like everyone does. So instead of accepting a ride from Clayton, I dial myself an Uber and type in the address of the hotel that Clayton gives me. Which turns out to be unexpectedly nice, considering that I just met this guy at a random bar and he took all of two minutes to book us a room somewhere.
I guess I was under the impression that cheap was the only requirement when choosing a place for this sort of…tryst. But no. This place is a pleasing mix of modern and old-world Spanish flair, with terra-cotta roof tiles, light stone and stucco walls, lots of glass, and palm trees galore. Not to mention the gorgeous mountain views, but that’s Napa for you.
When I get out of the Uber at the front entrance, Clayton is already there waiting for me. He grins.
“There you are. When you called an Uber, I was afraid you might’ve had second thoughts.”
“Never,” I tell him with an answering smile.
Truthfully, not a single thought in my mind tried to talk me out of this on the way over. Clayton slips an arm around my waist with just enough grip to be intimate, but loosely enough that I can easily pull away if I want to. He’s a lot taller than me. I hadn’t realized until just now. The top of my head barely reaches his shoulder.
Inside, the immaculate lobby is lit softly by iron chandeliers, and I see well-dressed people coming and going. There’s an entire wall of windows that look out on a lush courtyard where a tiled fountain spills into a stone surround. I appreciate that this guy brought me here, instead of some random motel. I feel safe. And, well, respected.
“Nice place,” I say casually. “You…come here often?” Now I’m the one fishing.
He laughs. “Nah. I just Googled ‘best hotels in Napa.’ Glad it suits.”
I find myself laughing, too. I don’t know why that pleases me so much, but it does.
