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His eyebrows rose. “I ran into your chair?”
“Isn’t that how it happened?”
“I say we round up some witnesses and get the truth.” He looked over one shoulder and then the other. His skin was a golden bronze. He must spend time outside. “Should we try that table?” He pointed to a couple making out behind us.
Damn it. I was calculating a list of all his traits in a two-minute exchange.
“What if we order a round and call it even?” I suggested. I resisted the impulse to rest my fingers on his forearm. I could see where the muscles rippled under his skin.
He pulled out the chair for me. “I’ll agree to that if you tell me your name.”
I tucked the bottom of my dress under me as I took the seat. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Who was I? I’d never hit on a guy like him before. Much less a guy who looked like he did.
“I’m Elliot.” I smiled.
“I like it. It’s different.” He sat in Greer’s old seat. “I’m Vaughn.”
Even his name was hot.
Another waitress appeared at the table. She noticed Vaughn and never looked at me. “Can I get you something?”
“What are you drinking?” he asked me.
“Oh, I’ll take another Cosmo.” I had a rule about not switching liquors during the night. Three Cosmos put me on the wrong side of alcohol consumption, but I couldn’t turn him down.
“A Cosmo for her and a bourbon and coke for me.” He stared at me while he ordered the drinks, dismissing the server.
“Got it,” she responded.
I swore the waitress winked at him.
He pushed forward on the table. “I’m not crashing a date or anything am I?”
“A date? Oh no.” I shook my head. “My roommate was called into work and had to leave.”
“I was wondering why a pretty girl was in here alone. Something didn’t add up.”
Pretty? He thought I was pretty. Had the man seen a mirror? I tried not to stare at his features, but there was something strong and confident about him. Maybe it was how the lines of his face made perfect angles. He had a solid jaw and sharp cheekbones.
I knew the line made me blush. “I could ask the same thing.”
“Are you calling me pretty? Because that might be a first.” There was something serious about the way he flirted. Maybe it was the low tone of his voice.
I immediately glanced at my drink to escape how he made me feel.
“I just wrapped a meeting with some co-workers,” he explained.
“What do you do?” I asked.
“I’m in lending.”
“Oh.” I tried not to sound disappointed. I don’t know where that came from. I expected him to say he had some kind of fascinating position I’d never heard of.
He smiled at the waitress when she handed us our drinks.
“Yeah. Not really that exciting,” he admitted. He must have noticed my reaction.
“So was that a line about being in a dangerous line of work? Do you secure death-defying loans?”
