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“I did. It’s pretty great too. I can walk around and mingle, drink what I want, say what I want, and go home with whoever I want.” I look Victoria right in the eye as I speak.
That comment wasn’t meant to be a threat to her, like I’d take her husband, nor an invitation that I’d like her to go home with me. I’m just in a mood and taking it out on them.
And now, I feel awful. They don’t deserve my sass. All they did was start a life together, move to the greatest small town in the world to raise their fruit, and happen to have me as a past mistake lurking in their ear.
I blow hard, making my lips vibrate. “Ignore me, guys. I’m having an existential crisis tonight. I wish you nothing but happy days and nights full of orgasms.”
I cheers them and walk away from their befuddled stares.
It’s really hard, pretending to be fabulous all the time. Sometimes, you’re fabu-loss. And when you are, you take a seat and drink your god-awful bourbon, just as God intended.
“Is this seat taken?” a man asks behind me.
I turn to the empty seat meant for Rob, who was supposed to be my date. It’s a sad reminder that he was kind of the man in my life for a short amount of time. Then, I do a double take and turn around because I know who just asked that question.
My jaw drops, and my brows rise at the sight before me.
Robert Bronson.
Sweet love of all things mean and good because he’s here in a black suit, white shirt, black tie, and looking so ravishingly handsome. His dark eyes bear a secret expression as he looks down at me with one hand in his pants pocket and a smirk on his face.
I’ve never seen Rob smirk. I like smirking Rob. I like it too much.
“May I?” He points to the chair again.
I snap out of my haze to swallow down my nerves and nod. I have a dazed expression on my face as he sends my pulses spinning.
“I’ve never seen you at a loss for words.”
“I am a gamut of perplexing emotions right now, yes.”
He takes the seat. I face the table, but he’s angled so his full body is aimed at me. He has one elbow on the table, and the other rests casually on his thigh. I breathe in deeply.
“Hi,” he drawls, and I clench my jaw.
Frustration mounts my nerves, along with overall excitement because he’s sitting beside me.
“Why exactly are you here?”
“I told you I’d be here on your big night. I’m a man of my word.”
“But you yelled at me. You’re supposed to be mad at me because I lied.”
“And you’re supposed to be mad because I didn’t trust you. You don’t look very mad right now. In fact, I’m honestly relieved that you seem pretty unnerved. In a good way.”
He leans toward my shoulder. The heat of his powerful form warms my skin in a way that I get chills for no reason whatsoever.
His breath licks my skin as he utters, “Tara, I’m sorry.”
I turn to him. My face is stunned, yet his is stoic and, dare I say, remorseful. His warm chestnut eyes are looking at mine with a glaze of emotion that says he means what he says. There’s no facade over them, no hidden purpose that I want to decode. His expression shows he’s speaking with blatant honesty.
“That didn’t sound like you were spitting knives,” I comment, remembering how it once was so hard for him to apologize.
“It’s the truth.”
I practically melt at his words. I fear I might become a puddle of mush on the floor, and the cleaning crew will have to come in here after hours and clean up the mess.
I shake my head fiercely and wave my hands. “No. You can’t do this. You can’t walk in here and be all sweet and apologetic. You’re gonna make me over-fantasize this to be something that it’s not. You’re broody, and I’m hopeful. You’re mean, and I’m crazy. You’re supposed to push me away, and I run as fast as I can because that’s who we are.”
