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He wasn’t annoyed. Not that he necessarily had any right to be, but men could be funny that way.
“Hey,” she mouthed, waving the lone clean napkin she’d snatched off the table.
Sam smiled, all the way this time, and ambled over, reaching their group just as the Patriots made another touchdown and everyone cheered. Popcorn went flying when an errant elbow toppled the bowl but Rory only laughed and grabbed a couple pieces to toss in her mouth.
It would be okay.
“Hi, you,” Sam said from behind her, his greeting almost getting lost in the noise. The words still thrummed through her body. Especially when he followed them up with a quick, blink-and-it’s-gone kiss over the top of her hair.
“Hi,” she said, tipping back her head to smile up into those serious eyes. Except he wasn’t looking at her face. All his attention was directed on the two wet circles on her sweatshirt. Specifically the erect nipples poking urgently through the cotton.
“Happy to see me?”
She grinned at his low question. “Of course.”
He jerked a chin at her friends, most of whom had yet to notice him in the melee. “This your regular crowd?”
“Yes.” She cleared her throat as Pete suddenly glanced at her, then swung his gaze toward Sam. There wasn’t any jealousy in the look—they weren’t about that—just open curiosity. “Here, let me introduce you to everyone.”
Sam’s big body tensed behind her but he nodded. “Sounds good.”
After introductions had been made, everyone settled back into the game as the waitress came up to get drink refills and to take Sam’s order. He asked Rory if she wanted some cheese sticks and onion rings and she said yes, already feeling a little sorry that onion rings probably meant no making out later.
Okay, a lot sorry.
Sam settled on a stool beside her and grabbed some popcorn, idly discussing the game with a couple of her friends. But he always included her in the conversation, and when the topic shifted to what he did for a living, he reached out to sling an arm around Rory’s hips. She stood there in the shelter of his big, beefy arm like a beaming student who’d just been presented with an attendance award. Cinnamon-and-spice aftershave and the faint aroma of motor oil tickled her senses, an irresistible combination. Even the dark smudges on his blunt fingertips aroused her, dragging her into a reverie about him with his head under the hood of her car, a sexy smile creasing his face as he murmured how dirty her spark plugs were…
“You coming back anytime soon?”
She shook herself at his soft question, finding herself trapped in his amused dark gaze. “Yeah. I’m here.”
“Nice to know.” He rested his hand lightly on the curve of her butt. “You look cute tonight, by the way.”
Only the slight waver at the end of his comment alerted her to his nervousness. He seemed at ease but he probably knew how to hide his emotions.
She didn’t want him to hide from her.
“Thank you.” Deliberately, she let her gaze travel from his V-neck navy sweater, sans shirt so that wispy dark hair curled along the edges of the cotton, to his bleached jeans, loose on his powerful hips. “You too.”
He reached for his beer then took two sips and set it aside, a smile twitching on his lips. “Never been called cute before.”
“You are.” Without thinking about it, she leaned in to nip his strong chin, her gaze flicking up to his face to gauge his reaction. He sucked in a breath at the quick rasp of her tongue. “Very.”
His hand slipped down to palm her ass. “Rory,” he said, his pointed glances around the table making her realize they were being watched. Pete in particular seemed fascinated.
She moved back a fraction. As much as she understood him not wanting to attract attention, she didn’t intend to pretend there wasn’t anything going on between them. These were her friends.
“So you work on classic cars. Is that how you met our Rory?” Josh asked, snatching a handful of popcorn. “She mentioned she’d dinged her car in a fender bender last week. Though her heap of a car is hardly classic.”
Sam swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. It would be so easy for him to say yes, to take their meeting out of the realm of the strange and awkward to something natural. He opened his mouth, shot her a glance. Asking for help maybe. Help she had no problem giving. The story of how they met belonged to them alone.
“Yes, we—”
“No, we met at Rory’s job. The sign place. I’m one of her customers.” The minute Sam finished, he again reached for his beer and gulped it down. She was surprised she couldn’t feel his heart beating even from a few inches away.
“Oh. Cool. So what kind of cars do you work on? Anything you get a lot of?” Pete asked, his expression even more friendly than usual. He was a car fiend.
Aaron banged down his empty beer. “I got a classic Mustang. Cherry red, ’76. Pristine, man. She’s a fucking beast.”
