Page 12 of Falling for Love

I nod. “She might be the oldest, but have any of us ever said no to her?” I ask with a grin.

Hudson chuckles while Miles merely groans. “She’s a handful.”

“And you adore her,” I remind him.

He lifts one shoulder, but a small smile takes the edge off his normal grumpy look.

“How’s work?” I ask them.

Miles pushes himself off the railing and takes a seat. “Quiet on my end. Not so much on his.” He gestures to Hudson.

Hudson frowns. “Yeah. Jace Kenyon, our wide receiver, got into a fight outside a bar downtown. Bad publicity, and he had to be bailed out.”

I shake my head and groan. “Not the first and won’t be the last with his temper.” Kenyon is known for his tantrums on the field and off. If it weren’t for those golden hands and his ability to run routes like a champ, he’d be long gone.

“Truth. But he needs to settle down or even his talent won’t keep him on the team,” Hudson says.

The music suddenly grows louder, and I glance at my watch. “Opening time,” I tell them.

For the next thirty minutes, I watch from my perch above as the club fills up, and the beat and tempo of the music rises and gets faster. The twins make their way downstairs to do their own thing and eventually, I do the same.

Lucas is standing by the bar, and I know he’ll be out of here early because he wants to get home to Rainey. Now is the perfect time to ask him about an issue we’ve been having with one of our vendors who’s consistently late with orders.

I make my way through the throng of people that are gathered on the dance floor, many having waited in line over an hour before we opened the doors.

Before I get to the corner of the bar where I saw Lucas, a woman with blonde hair and a barely-there dress stops me. “Excuse me, but aren’t you Jack Dare?” she asks, her voice low and husky.

She’s dressed in a skintight bandage dress with a low-cut neckline and cut-outs on the sides, and though I don’t want to presume she’ll come on to me, she’s eyeing me like I’m a piece of candy she wants to taste.

Still, I need to be polite to customers. “I’m Jack. What can I do for you?”

She flips her long hair over one shoulder. “My name is Amy. I went to high school with your sister Rainey,” she says, sliding her hand along my chest. I stiffen at her touch, wishing I’d been wrong about her intentions. “And I think the question is what can I do for you?” she all but purrs.

I reach up and grasp her wrist, intending to remove her hand, just as a rush of awareness has me turning my head to see if someone is watching me. I glance over my shoulder and my gaze locks on a familiar face. “Taylor,” I say in shock as I step back from the unwanted touch.

“It’s Amy.” The woman who is trying to pick me up is pouting, her over-glossed lips turning downward as she realizes I’m not interested.

I meet the stranger’s gaze. “I’m sorry but you’re going to have to find someone else to whatever with,” I mutter, and shift directions so I can walk toward Taylor, but all I see is the back of her head as she rushes away.

“Dammit.” I weave through the crowd and watch as she steps through the exit. I catch up with her outside in the hot, muggy night air. She already has her phone in her hand, and I have no doubt she’s about to send for a rideshare. “Taylor!” I come up beside her.

Looking up, she meets my gaze and the jolt of awareness is just as potent now as it was in the café in Charleston. “Hi,” I say and treat her to a grin.

“Hi.” Her cheeks flush, and it’s all I can do not to reach out and brush away a strand of hair that’s sticking to her cheek. But I keep my hands to myself for now.

“What are you doing in Miami?” But I’m glad she’s here.

Her gaze darts away from mine. “I … umm … I took a last-minute trip.”

“I’m glad you did.”

I know what it must have looked like, catching me with another woman’s hand on my chest, my fingers wrapped around her wrist. Taylor and I aren’t committed. Hell, we never thought we’d see each other again, but I want her to know that brief touch meant nothing. I haven’t been with another woman since I met her, and I considered it, if only to dim the lingering memories of us together. But my dick isn’t interested in any other woman, and neither am I.

“What made you come?” I ask.

“I came to—” Before she can reply, a group of tipsy women walk out of the club and bump into her side.

“Whoa.” I reach out and steady her, my hands on her bare forearms. “You okay?” I ask.