Page 16 of The Detour

Harley

He’s distracting.

Plain and simple.

Sure, I’ve written almost four thousand words while sitting here—which is an insane amount—but I know it could be a ton more. How? Because every time I hear his voice just above the fray of noise, I stop and look up. Then I proceed to get lost in staring at him for the next few minutes.

The way he throws his head back and laughs heartily with the guys. How he leans on his forearms and dips his head down to have a conversation with someone at the bar. His undivided attention seeming to make the person he’s speaking with feel like they are the only person in the room. All while keeping an eye on every table and directing Vix and a few other servers at times.

Not to mention the few winks he’s thrown my way, followed soon after by a fresh glass of wine.

Winks, mind you, that have me daydreaming about things that can only be described as not safe for work.

Infatuation much, Harley?

With a deep breath, I return to Sophie and Luke and how they’re supposed to be getting it on when Vix stops right in front of me and stares.

I glance up to meet her eyes. “Yes?”

Her grin is wide and playful. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Then why are you staring at me?”

“Because Saint told me who you were and, holy shit, I can’t believe you’re you. You’re her. Do you have any idea how hard I fell for Giovanni and Drea in Heart’s Fall?” she asks.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” She stares at me for a beat longer before shaking her head in my awkwardness at being recognized. “I’m sorry. That probably makes you feel all kinds of awkward. I’ll go now.”

“No. You’re fine. Compliments unnerve me and to add to it, I think I’m just really tired.” I offer a smile and then startle when I glance at the clock on my computer and see that it’s almost two in the morning. I can’t remember the last time I stayed up this late writing without feeling like my brain was being squeezed in a vise.

“It’s really that late. You’ve been working hard over here for a few hours.”

“I guess I have. Wow.” I close my notebook. “Thank you so much for tending to me all night. When you get a moment, can I get my check?”

She waves a hand at me. “Saint said it’s on the house.”

I glance over her shoulder to where Saint has his arm around a man and is having what appears to be a rather serious conversation.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s what he says, and since he’s the boss”—she shrugs— “what he says goes.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

She laughs. “By the looks of how he kissed you, talking won’t do any good.”

My cheeks heat at the unabashed comment. “I don’t even know what to say about that.”

“Say it was good. Say it was amazing. It’s okay to admit it.”

I laugh, surprised how easily she can put me at ease. “I’m fine writing kisses like that but experiencing them . . .”

“Doesn’t happen very often.”

“Never.” I give a small shake of my head. “He claimed to be showing me how a kiss in a romance novel should be done.”

“Girl, I don’t care what he claimed so long as it looked like that.”