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“The hottie beside him practically has her ass cheeks popping out, and he doesn’t even notice her.”
A woman in black heels was next to him, wearing a short red dress, the hem of which had risen throughout the night. Now the bottom part of her ass cheeks were visible, and her thong wouldn’t be far behind. Bones seemed oblivious to her, watching me like I was the only thing that mattered. “She’s not his type.” I turned back around, unable to wipe the smirk off my face.
“What’s his type?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Me.”
Her eyes softened. “I’ve never seen you so happy, Vanessa. Not even before you met him.”
“No. I didn’t discover the meaning of happiness until now.”
She glanced at the bar again. “Still staring at you.”
“He’ll be doing that all night.”
“Is he like that at home?”
“Yes. Every second of every day.”
She sighed, her eyes moving to the ceiling. “That’s one hell of a man. He’s the kind of man who doesn’t make you jealous with other women…but makes all women jealous of you. He’s possessive but not mistrustful. He’s built like a brick shithouse. He’d take a bullet for you or anyone you love in a heartbeat.” She sighed again. “He knows how to handle a real woman. He’s so bad that he’s good. I hope I find a man like that someday…but I suspect he’s one of a kind.”
I’d been with a few men, and none of them came close to Bones. “He’s definitely one of a kind.”
“Does he have a brother by chance?”
I chuckled. “No. Sorry.”
“Damn,” she said. “Maybe I need to walk the streets late at night and hope I witness a crime…”
“Carmen, you better be joking.”
“Worked for you, didn’t it?” she teased.
“You’ll find the right man, Carmen. I don’t know when or how…but you will. Conway was never the kind of guy to be a husband and a father…until he met Sapphire. So you’ll meet a guy and turn him into the man you want him to be.”
“I don’t want to turn him into a man. I want him to turn me into a woman. Catch my drift?”
I chuckled. “Good point.”
“I’m sure Griffin was already a man when you met.”
“Yep. All man.”
She scanned the bar, seeing the crowd of men and women. “I don’t mind being single. It’s fun. I have my independence, I have my shop, and I’m still young. There’s no rush. But all those first dates, awkward bad sex, and clingy men are getting old. Seeing what you have with him makes me want that too. But I know I can’t rush it. I have to wait for Prince Charming to walk in the door.”
“You know what I’ve learned?”
“What?” she asked. “You have it all figured out.”
“You don’t want Prince Charming,” I said. “You don’t want a vanilla gentleman. I liked Antonio, but he was too plain for me. He was too safe, too boring. I never would have been happy with him, not like I am with Griffin.”
“So you’re into the bad boys?”
“Griffin is a man, not a boy. And no, that’s not my type either. I just realized I wanted a strong man who wasn’t intimidated by my sass or strength. I wanted a strong man who was powerful enough to make me feel safe, even though I don’t need a man for anything. Griffin does all those things…makes me want things I didn’t know I needed.”
Her eyes glanced up, following someone through the bar. “Incoming.”
I smelled him when he was feet away. His cologne mixed with his aftershave and body soap filled my nostrils. I could feel the heat his body generated before he actually touched me. He set the drinks on the table, two drinks for us and one scotch for him. He moved to the spot beside me and rested his arm on the surface, his fingers gripping his glass. His gaze burned right through my skin.
“Thanks for the drink.” Carmen sipped hers through the straw.
He didn’t look at her, his eyes on me. “You’re welcome.”
I was used to him staring at me like that all the time, but everyone else wasn’t. “Stop.”
He knew exactly what I was referring to, but he lifted his glass and took a drink without directing his gaze elsewhere. “No.”
Carmen smirked. “Let the man do what he wants. He’s earned it.” She looked at the crowd again, giving us some privacy.
The corner of his mouth rose in a smile. “She’s my favorite Barsetti.”
“You’ve said that before.” I gripped my glass but didn’t take a drink.
“I’m saying it again.”
“Aren’t I your favorite Barsetti?” I took a drink, letting the cool alcohol move down my throat.
“You won’t always be a Barsetti.” He drank his scotch, drinking like an alcoholic even though he’d already cut back.
I kept my face controlled and didn’t react to what he said, but his words hit me right in the heart. We’d talked about getting married before. He said if my father approved of him, he wanted to get married, but since we’d been back together, the conversation hadn’t come up. I never mentioned it, not wanting to rush him. As long as we were together, I was happy. Whether I was his wife or not, the connection we had was unbreakable. After everything he’d been through, he could take all the time he wanted. I wanted him to be my husband, but if he never was, it wouldn’t change anything.
