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That sounded like a good story, but I was still hesitant.
“You can see I’m a nice guy,” he said, his voice coaxing. “I’m a business man. I’m a veteran. Have a drink with me when you get off work. Live dangerously.”
“I'm not that kind of girl," I said with a sigh.
He sighed in return. "My loss."
I turned back to the stack of drink orders in front of my station and continued pouring while he watched me. I had a feeling it would be both our loss, because he looked like a man who would be exceptionally intense in bed. Demanding, accomplished, skilled, unrelenting. Mo
st of all, Alpha. Just the way I liked it. The way Dan had been. My body responded to the thought of living dangerously for once, my heart racing, butterflies in my stomach.
Damn…
I couldn’t do it. Not only because I wasn’t quite a year out from Dan’s death but his memorial was coming up and the whole family would be traveling to Arlington for the ceremony. Besides, I had this sense that Beckett was dangerous in a way I couldn’t explain.
He said nothing more for a while, occupying himself with his bourbon and watching me pour drink order after drink order. He seemed determined to wait me out, probably hoping to hit on me once more after I got off shift.
On my part, I watched the clock. I appreciated persistence, but wouldn’t cave, no matter how gorgeous he was.
In about fifteen minutes, I asked Steve to take over while I went outside for a break. Leah popped out with me and lit up a smoke. I never smoked, but I still liked to stand out back and listen to the surf crashing on the beach a few hundred yards away, breathing in the salt air.
“Mr. Hot Stuff seems to like you,” she said as she puffed on her cigarette.
“He’s not my type,” I said, although I had to hold back a smile.
She laughed at that, knowing me well enough to see it for the lie it was.
“Bullcrap. If he was into me the way he seems into you, I’d go for it. It’s been almost a year, Mira. You’ve done your mourning.”
“Steve doesn’t like him.”
“Steve doesn’t like any man you might look at twice. He’s jealous, Mira.”
“He’s not jealous,” I said. “He’s like a brother to me.”
“Not in his mind,” she said and raised her eyebrows. “Maybe a stepbrother.”
I laughed at that, thinking of a book we both read.
“Whatever,” I said with a shrug. “Dan deserves a year.”
“You should just take a chance and live dangerously for once.”
“That’s what he said.”
She smiled. “You see? We’re both right. You deserve it, sweetie.”
“Like I told him, living dangerously is not going to get me into the FBI.”
She shrugged and took a drag on her cigarette, leaning against the wall. “Then you won’t mind if I do? He’s too hot to pass up.”
“Go for it,” I said, regretting that I wasn’t more like her, unable to keep a frown off my face. Leah saw it and laughed.
“See? You care. I was just kidding. Besides, Mr. Hot Stuff hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night.”
I smiled in spite of myself. My body warmed at the thought of taking Mr. Beckett Tate home with me, except of course, I lived with Dan’s parents. Instead, I imagined going to his hotel room and seeing what was hidden beneath that white turtleneck and low-slung jeans. From the glances I snuck between pouring drinks, I imagined he’d be sporting a hard body with a nice six-pack. My body ached for a man’s touch…
“Well, that’s it for me,” I said and opened the back door. “Gotta get back.”
