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Fucking winks! Who the hell does he think he is? He can’t just come in here, looking like he does, making puke jokes, and get all winky.
Before I can come up with a good insult, Dean is suddenly crowding into my personal space. I jerk back with a gasp, and my back bumps into the counter behind me when he bends down toward me. He rests both of his hands on the counter on either side of me, caging me in, his face only a few inches from mine. A couple of seconds pass where he just studies me, and then he removes one of his hands from the counter, using the tip of his finger to pull my sunglasses down just far enough so he can see my eyes.
“You okay?” he asks softly, all of the teasing gone from his voice, nothing but concern replacing it.
My heart pounds, and my hands get sweaty. He’s really concerned, and I like that he’s really concerned. I have no business liking it, because he’s not my type. A fling would have been nice, but I definitely ruined that with the puking.
All I can do is nod in response, since I’m afraid of what might come out of my mouth if I open it. Probably something desperate. Definitely something stupid.
Dean looks back and forth between my bloodshot eyes, and when he’s satisfied that I’m telling him the truth about being okay, he dips his head to the side of my face and puts his mouth right by my ear.
“Just so there’s no confusion, far away from you is definitely not where I want to be. Absolutely nothing about you turns me off. It’s just the opposite, actually.”
Jesus, how long was he standing there listening? And why do I feel like I would have just gotten pregnant from his words alone if I still had that capability?
He drags his palms along the counter as he leans back away from me and stands up to his full height again, while I try and remember how to breathe again.
“Ladies.” Dean nods in Wren and Karen’s directions before his eyes come right back to me. “Think I’ll grab a drink to go with my takeout order before I leave. I heard the orange juice is really flowing this morning.”
Aaand now I want to punch him in the face.
“Eat shit,” I mumble as I push my sunglasses back up in place, which just makes him laugh as our waitress Melanie rushes over and hands him a Styrofoam box.
He thanks her and then turns and heads toward the door of The Barge, whistling as he goes. “See you soon, plus-one!” Dean shouts without turning around, waving over his shoulder before he pushes open the door.
“You’re not my plus-one!” I shout back. But he’s already out the door and heading down the street. And now everyone in this damn place is looking at me again.
“Can we start calling him Daddy now?” Wren asks, making me turn back around on my stool and repeatedly bang my head against the counter.
Chapter 6
Dean
“I hope you starve.”
“Fucking bullshit.”
Tossing my sketchpad onto the table in the corner of my hotel room, I realize it’s pointless to try to concentrate on work. Or anything else, for that matter. Leaning back in my chair, I scrub my hands down my face with a defeated sigh.
“His voice makes me feel like melted butter, and when he looks at me, I want to climb him like a tree…”
Perfect Laura Bennett isn’t so perfect after all. She’s kind of a mess, actually. But a sexy, funny, thrilling mess. And I have never been more turned on in my entire fucking life.
I’ve also never taken one look at a woman and wished I could snap my fingers and make all her troubles go away. I’ve never gotten a nauseous pit in my stomach at the first sign of tears in her eyes. I’ve never made it my mission to annoy the piss out of her just so I can hear her adorably tell me off. And I have definitely never been headbutted and almost puked on, then found it the most charming thing that has ever happened to me.
Now, the only thoughts that are consuming me are about how good it felt to take care of her, have her unload all her problems on me, and for her to look at me like I could make everything better. And wonder why in the hell I tossed and turned all night last night, unable to relax or get rid of the anxious feeling in my gut, until I walked into that diner this morning and saw her again. Until I pulled those dark sunglasses off her face, looked into those gorgeous blue eyes of hers, and made sure she really was okay.
What in the hell is even going on with me right now?
There’s a light tapping on my hotel room door, saving me from having to think about this bullshit any longer. Pushing up from the hard, wooden chair my ass has been parked in for far too long, I let out a groan when my body reminds me I’m too old to be hunched over a table in an uncomfortable chair for hours.
After I brought my breakfast back here and inhaled it, then found out Birdie didn’t plan anything for the guests today so they could relax and get settled in after traveling yesterday, I thought it would be a good time to get caught up on work and enjoy my peace and quiet. I’ve spent the last several hours doing nothing but staring at my sketchbook, pacing my hotel room, ordering shitty room service for lunch, and being so bored with my own company I wanted to put my fist through a wall. I wondered what Laura was doing, where she was, if she still felt like shit from her hangover, and if she’d finally recovered from finding out she was going to be a grandma again.
I let out another, more irritated groan when a louder knock hits my door this time, and my feet move me faster across the room, looking forward to any kind of interruption right now. Even if it’s just someone on the hotel staff bringing up the extra towels I called down for.
I’ll take any kind of distraction right now that will get Laura Bennett out of my damn head.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I mutter under my breath as soon as I fling open my hotel room door, even as my dick stirs to life in my jeans.
