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The joy. The connection they clearly share.
I want to be out there with them instead of standing at a bar alone, waiting on someone for whom I know better than to get my hopes up.
Gulping my beer, a buzzy rush hits me in the backs of my knees. Before I know what’s happening I’m bending them, swinging my hips side to side in time to the beat of the next song that comes on, a Luke Bryan hit about country girls shakin’ it for him. Theo’s abandon to the beat inspires me to let go too. I tilt back my head and belt out the lyrics, bopping my chin, and for the first time in a while I feel young and free and hopeful.
I feel like anything is possible.
Anything is possible if Theo Morgan turns into this guy on the weekends. I wonder where he keeps this boot scootin’ version of himself during the week. Is this the real Theo? Or is he the Bull deep down—the stingy, mean, showy bond trader who will destroy anyone and anything to advance his career?
I shouldn’t be, but I’m intrigued.
Luke Bryan is telling us to shake it for the birds and then the bees when Theo glances my way. Our eyes meet across the room. His steps slow until he’s frozen, other dancers moving past him in a fast-moving stream of claps and turns and hops.
Time stops. My ears ring and my stomach drops, a cold rush filling my veins, and I watch a fascinating array of emotions flicker across Theo’s face as his eyes lock on mine. Shock. Relief. Curiosity. Deeper shock. Embarrassment.
And then anger. In the space of a heartbeat, his expression darkens with fury, his nostrils flaring, muscle in his jaw ticking.
This face, I know well.
Shit.
Chapter Nine
Nora
Theo grabs his nearest family member and murmurs in her ear—I imagine it’s something like “stay here” or “I’m about to commit murder, don’t tell Mom”—and then he’s stalking toward me, shoulders moving in a predatory roll that simultaneously makes me want to run away and climb him like a tree.
A throb appears between my thighs, and I send up a silent prayer to the universe. Save me.
Or maybe . . . don’t?
My pulse marches in my ears and I flatten my back against the bar, placing my palm on the seat of a nearby stool to steady myself. I don’t know what I did to piss Theo off, but it was clearly an egregious sin.
He stops a step too close to me. For a wild second I think he’s going to lean in and capture my mouth in a hot, hostile kiss. I’m more buzzed than I thought.
But instead he leans in and growls, “What the fuck are you looking at, Frasier?”
The neon red light of a nearby Pabst Blue Ribbon sign catches on the fine sheen of perspiration that covers his forehead and cheekbones. He’s so striking like this—sweaty, mad as hell, chest barreling in and out as he struggles to catch his breath—it makes my stomach somersault. And the clean, cedar scent of whatever cologne or aftershave he’s wearing?
I can’t.
I can’t get in trouble with another coworker. Especially one who could very well be my boss in the near future. I’ve worked too fucking hard to be accused to sleeping my way to the top. Not that I’m thinking about sleeping with Theo. But—
“Hmm?” he presses.
“I was watching y’all dance,” I manage. “You’re actually pretty good—”
“Stop.”
I blink. “Stop what?”
“Make fun of me all you want, but I won’t have you laughing at my family.”
Oh.
Oh.
I set down my beer. “What makes you think I was laughing at your family? I was enjoying watching you with them, that’s all.”
“You’re a shit liar,” he shoots back, eyes bouncing between mine. “I know what this must look like to someone like you. Couldn’t keep your eyes away, could you? You were mocking us, bopping your head like that.”
Now I’m confused. “I love Luke Bryan. Looks like you do too. I wasn’t mocking anyone.”
He tilts his head and lets out a short, annoyed breath. “Why are you here, Frasier?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Ah. So you did come to mock people like us.”
I angle my chin, bringing our faces closer. “I did no such thing. As a matter of fact, I’d be out there dancing with you if I wasn’t meeting—”
“Teddy? Teddy, is everything all right?”
Theo whips around to face his mother and sisters, who have apparently crept up on us. His mom’s eyes are kind as they move to me before she looks up at her son. His sisters peep over his shoulder at me with naked interest.
Teddy?
“Everything is fine,” he replies, tone slightly softer. “Y’all get back out on the dance floor. I’ll join you in a minute.”
No one budges. I wave at Theo’s sisters. He glowers.
