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He chuckled as he kicked back the bourbon. “You’re a smartass.”
I wasn’t going for smartass. I was going for flirty and self-assured. I bit my bottom lip. I wanted him to see me as confident. As confident as he was.
“It wasn’t a line. I used to do dangerous. Not anymore. I gave it up you could say. Let’s call it retirement.”
I felt my pulse race again. There it was. The thrill of something reckless and different.
“What did you do?” I twirled the lemon twist on the surface of my drink.
“I don’t talk about it much.”
“And what keeps you from talking about it? What were you? Some kind of special operations trained killer?” I giggled at my own joke, but I saw the way his midnight eyes cut into mine.
“Oh,” I whispered.
His stare was intense. I had pressed too hard. We were strangers. I didn’t have a right to pry into his personal life. I took a sip of my drink, trying to ignore the excitement that ran through my spine from the way he answered me.
A few seconds passed before Vaughn spoke again. He s
eemed comfortable with the silence.
“Let’s talk about you. What do you do?” he asked.
“I work at American University. Well, actually I don’t work-work there. I was selected for a program.” I realized how flustered his eyes made me. He followed my lips with piercing focus. “I’m in sort of a residency program for attorneys.”
“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a lawyer.” He sat back in his chair. “You look too sweet for something like that.”
Maybe I had disappointed him. I wondered what line of work he thought I was in before I started talking. Did he think I did something fun and sexy? Or was he like everyone else who thought the innocence in my eyes meant I wasn’t old enough to do something harrowing?
“Who said I’m sweet?” I bit my bottom lip.
He picked up his glass. “Good point. Keep talking, pretty girl.”
Shit, what was he doing to me? I felt feisty all of a sudden. I felt like there was a hellcat inside of me who wanted to come out and play. But really, how long could I pull that off? He’d see through my charade before my next sip of vodka. I decided to stick with the truth.
“I don’t practice law like I did. Not anymore—not like that. I was at a firm for two years after law school, but I realized I wasn’t cut out for that kind of law. I didn’t have the stomach for it. Maybe it’s a little like your retirement.” I had a feeling Vaughn wasn’t the kind of man who shrank from confrontation or a fight.
I hadn’t taken my eyes off the glimpses of his tattoo. I wanted to see what the full ink looked like on his arm.
“And you decided to retire to D.C.?” he questioned.
“Sort of. When the chance to help clients at a clinic and teach opened up, I applied. Plus, my college roommate is in D.C. and she really wanted me to move.” I tried to gauge if I was spilling too much information.
He made me feel off-balance, but it was fun. I enjoyed trying to stay centered around him. Every time I tipped too far, I tugged myself back up and then let the pull of his eyes or the gravel in his voice tilt me to another dizzying place.
“How long have you been in D.C.?” he asked. He pushed the ice around on the top of his drink.
“Three days.”
He laughed. “Three days?”
“My room isn’t even unpacked. I’m lucky I have clothes.” I smiled.
He tipped the glass over his perfectly shaped lips. He lowered it slowly. “Maybe I’m not so lucky then. You without clothes sounds like something I’d like.”
The tingle spread through my body. God, he was hot and a fucking amazing flirt. The words rolled off his tongue effortlessly. It was as if he wasn’t even trying.
“Hey, you owe us forty bucks!”
