Modern Heart: City Love 3 Page 8

  “Well, she better hold it all in until Max and I are back from New York or I won’t be happy,” Christa yelled.

  Maddy arrived at our table and lowered herself slowly onto the stool next to me. “Thanks.” She reached over and picked up her drink. “Not sure why I bother. Anything I drink just goes straight through me.”

  We all grabbed our glasses and proceeded to smile into them.

  Maddy waved a hand at us. “It’s OK. I know I’m getting huge.”

  “How on earth do you manage to sleep?” I couldn’t help asking.

  “Oh, I’m not really sleeping very well. It’s weird. I’m tired, but hormones seem to keep me going,” she replied.

  “There he is!” Cate interrupted. She jumped up and started waving frantically at someone across the other side of the bar.

  I frowned. Who was Cate waving at? It didn’t take long to figure out because he towered over the rest of the crowd.

  “Don’t,” Christa warned, laying a gentle hand on my arm. “It was all of us, if you must know. We didn’t feel right having your going away drinks without inviting the man responsible for getting you the exhibition.”

  I released a pent-up breath and stared into my drink.

  Everyone stood when John arrived at the table. I was the last to stand and found myself studying the table with intense concentration. From the corner of my eye, I saw each of the girls give him a hug to greet him. When he came to stand in front of me, I looked up at him reluctantly.

  He grinned at me, rather shamelessly in my opinion, and opened his arms wide.

  I glared at him.

  He laughed heartily, then bent down to kiss me on the cheek. His lips grazed my skin and I scowled. He still smelled the same, damn it. Salt, sea, and a hint of spice. I stepped back rudely, but in truth it was because I was shocked by the way my cheek burned from his lips.

  “Scarlett,” Cate said. There was a note of disapproval in her voice. “That’s no way to greet John.”

  “It’s OK,” said John. His lips twitched with the effort of holding back another grin. “We’ve previously established that Scarlett doesn’t do hugs.”

  Cate’s eyes widened and she shot me a what the? look.

  My glare was distinctly of the butt out variety.

  Sensing my mood, Christa gestured toward the bar. “Why don’t you go grab John a drink, Scarlett?”

  After John told me what he wanted I headed to the bar alone. Christa wasn’t one of my closest friends for nothing. I needed the space and she’d sensed that. As I waited in line I tried to figure out why being around John was so unsettling for me. There was more to it than his exquisite back, that was for sure.

  A guy waiting next to me in line accidentally bumped my shoulder when someone pushed past him.

  “Sorry,” he apologized.

  I knew that look. He wasn’t sorry at all. And he was my type, I noticed. A little younger than I’d normally go for, but he was that interesting blend of trendy and offbeat. Unlike the majority of the men in the city bar dressed in suits, he wore a low key checked shirt and jeans. He was well put together without being slick.

  His eyes were still on me. “Have you been here before?” he asked.

  I knew straight away that it wasn’t a pick up line. Like me, he seemed a little out of place in the glossy city bar.

  “It’s not really my scene,” I told him, “but a couple of my girlfriends work right near here and it’s a convenient place to meet.”

  “Same. One of my mates works nearby.”

  “He works in banking then,” I said.

  He blinked, and I noticed his eyes were an appealing mixture of green and brown. “How did you know?”

  I laughed. “It was a guess, but seriously look around you.” I turned and gestured to the crowd. “Bunch of posers, all of them. Except for my friends, of course.” I shot him a knowing grin.

  “Glad it’s not just me then. Hey, can I buy you a drink?”

  I paused and assessed him. Taller than me, but not too tall. His brown hair was a little too long and messy, with hints of gold to it. He was pretty well built from what I could tell. While I liked the more creative types I still preferred a man with some substance to him. I liked to think it had more to do with my artistic disposition than a dislike of skinny guys. Guys with a hint of muscle tone were much more interesting to paint.

  “What?” He smiled at me, but looked a bit uncomfortable at my confident appraisal.

  “I’ll tell you what. I’m here with some friends, but if you’re still around later, I might take you up on that offer.”

  We’d reached the front of the line and I ordered John’s drink. Once I paid for it, I turned to go.

  “Hey!” The guy grabbed my arm to get my attention, but quickly dropped his hand when he’d realized what he’d done. His expression was perplexed. “What’s your name?”

  “Scarlett.” I gave him a small smile then walked away.

  If he was wondering why I didn’t ask his name, he’d do better not to think about it.

  As I made my way back to the table, the schooner of beer in my hand, John caught my eye. I almost faltered but managed to keep going.

  Dropping my eyes, I forced myself to breathe evenly. I knew myself well enough to know what was going on. I had an itch to scratch.

  If I let the man I wanted scratch that itch, it would spell disaster for us both.

  The guy I’d met at the bar? He didn’t know it yet, but he’d turned out to be the perfect distraction.

  *

  Several hours later, my girlfriends stood to leave.

  It was still early by my standards, but pregnancy hormones or not, Maddy looked exhausted. Paul was driving in to the city to pick her up and would drop Cate home on the way. Meanwhile, Max had arrived to pick up Christa.

  “Can I give you a lift, Scarlett?” Max asked.

  I glanced past him to the other side of the bar. The guy I’d met earlier was sitting alone, sipping a half empty beer, his friend having left about half an hour ago. “No thanks, Max. I’m good.”

  Cate looked hopefully between John and me. “Well, I guess we’ll see you guys later.” She leaned in to give me a quick peck on the cheek. “Next time I’ll see you it will be in New York. I’m so excited!”

  I tried not to roll my eyes. “Alright, Cate. I’ll give you a call when I arrive.” We were on different flights but were both staying at the same hotel.

  “Excellent! See you then.”

  The rest of them said their goodbyes, leaving John and me standing alone at the table.

  “We can grab a taxi together if you like,” he said.

  It was a reasonable suggestion seeing as we both lived in the inner city, about a five minute drive apart.

  “No, I’m good. You go.”

  “It will be safer if we’re together.”

  I tried not to laugh. I’d made it to thirty living in the big, bad city without anyone watching out for me. I was pretty sure I could make it home. My pride smarting, I spoke before really thinking. “I’m meeting someone.”

  John flinched. He looked past me out the window.

  I swallowed the guilt threatening to rise up. Way to go, Scarlett. “Thanks for coming,” I said genuinely. “And thanks for making the recommendation about my artwork too. I’m not sure I’ve ever said it.”

  It was very un-Scarlett like behavior.

  John returned his gaze to me. His dark brown eyes appeared black in the dimly lit bar and there was a hard edge to them that was out of character for him. “No, you haven’t. Where are you meeting him?”

  I hadn’t said it was a him but I wasn’t going to be perverse. “Does it matter?”

  “It matters to me that you’re safe.”

  His good guy tendencies were enough to drive a woman insane. Well, not Cate, or probably Christa or Maddy, for that matter. But me? He was pissing me right off. “I’m a big girl, John. And I’m meeting him here. You already said you have a soccer game in the mornin
g, so just go, alright?”

  “It’s that guy, isn’t it?” He nodded in the direction of the as-yet-nameless guy I’d met in the line for the bar.

  “John—”

  “You go. I might just hang around and have another quiet drink.”

  I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at him, not at all happy with the implication of his words.

  “Enjoy the rest of your night, Scarlett.”

  He shot me a steely look and turned on his heel, presumably to go to the bar to order another drink.

  I watched the movement of his shoulders beneath his suit as he walked away from me. Fury burned in my chest. He had no right. No right to make me feel this way. I could hook up with whoever I chose, whenever I chose. His big brotherly actions, if that’s what you’d call them, made me feel like I was a rebellious teenager about to do something reckless.

  I’d give him reckless.

  I stalked over to the bar, my boots clicking purposefully across the wooden floor. I pushed myself between John and the bar.

  “Forget the drink,” I told him.

  He looked down at me, his dark eyes wary now and confused.

  “Let’s get a cab.” I grabbed his arm and pulled him from the bar, toward the exit.

  If he was going to insist on continually butting into my life, then he’d have to endure the consequences.

  Chapter 11

  As fate would have it, there was a cab driving toward us when we arrived outside. Before John could protest, I’d waved it down and climbed into the back seat.

  He remained on the footpath. “Scarlett—”

  “Get in, John.”

  He closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them again he looked tired. “What are you doing?”

  “Going home. With you.”

  “No. You’re not.”

  “Get in the fucking car, John.” It wasn’t the strongest pick up line of all time, but it would have to do.

  He didn’t say anything and he didn’t move. A muscle twitched in his jaw. I realized I desperately wanted to run my palm across the stubble of his cheek and to map the shape of his face with my hand.

  “This is a limited time offer,” I reminded him.

  He laughed, but there was nothing warm about it. “Go home, Scarlett.”

  His words stung. More than I cared to admit. “So you’re denying it?”

  “I’m not denying anything. I’m just not playing your games,” he said softly.

  “This isn’t a game, John.”

  “Then why does it feel like it?” He shook his head and I couldn’t tell if he was shaking it at me or himself. Without saying anything, he turned away and started walking down the road.

  “Son of a bitch,” I murmured. I said a quick sorry to the cabbie and climbed out of the car. “John! John!”

  I sprinted to catch up to him. When I reached him he didn’t stop walking and I was forced to walk beside him, my shorter legs doing double time to keep up with his long strides. That I had chased after him at all was something I’d need to analyze at a later date.

  “You were going to sleep with him, weren’t you?” John asked, still looking straight ahead.

  “I—” Usually I wouldn’t hesitate to be honest but that muscle was still twitching in his jaw. “If you don’t think you’ll like the answer then why ask?”

  He swore under his breath, stopped walking abruptly and turned to me. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why were you going to sleep with him?”

  I stared at him, teetering between anger at having my decisions questioned and the awareness that I had potentially hurt him. “Because I felt like it.”

  It was a weak response and we both knew it.

  “Was it because of us?”

  The question hung in the air between us. The sounds of the traffic, car horns, and pedestrians walking past all faded until there was only him.

  “There is no us, John,” I said eventually.

  “No?” The intensity of his gaze was electrifying.

  I envisaged painting him with sparks pouring from his eyes, alight with his frustration, then quickly recalled myself. I swallowed. “I mean, there’s this.” I made a small gesture between us. “But there’s no us. There can’t be.”

  “And what’s this?”

  I was sick of playing this game, but I’d started it. “An attraction,” I admitted.

  “That’s all?”

  “What else would there be?”

  John stepped back as though he needed to get away from me. “Oh, I don’t know? A connection?”

  I shrugged. “So we have a connection, so what?”

  He stepped forward again, but this time he was so close I could see where the black of his iris merged with the dark brown of his eyes. “It scared you enough to run away and sleep with a random stranger.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” I scoffed, but I was deeply shaken by the accuracy of his statement and his upfront honesty.

  He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “And back there?” He inclined his head in the direction we’d came. “You just thought you’d drag me home, have your way with me, and that would be the end of it?”

  “You want me, John. Don’t deny it.”

  His mouth curled at the edges. There was nothing soft about it, nothing of the good guy my girlfriends so loved.

  “I’m not going to deny it. I want you to do all sorts of things to me, Scarlett. I’ve spent too many nights thinking about it already. Thinking about all the things I could do to you …”

  My breath left me, like a traitorous friend who had betrayed me unexpectedly. My chest felt tight with the lack of air. Desire pooled in my stomach.

  Where was the John I knew? The dependable, Mr. Nice Guy who was good to look at and easy to dismiss? This John was dark and sexy, with a smoothness that made me want to unwrap him until I could feel him skin on skin.

  He reached down and stroked a palm across my cheekbone and desire shot down my legs, making me feel unsteady on my feet.

  This time I was the one to step away. This wasn’t right. It was so far from right I almost felt like running. I was the one who was always in control. In my world, I was always the one to seduce. Nobody got hurt that way and the men I slept with admired my initiative.

  John was watching me carefully. “Let me in for just a second, will you?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He stepped in closer. “You will.”

  His lips were on mine before I had the chance to protest. He wrapped his arms around me. And suddenly I didn’t want to run away anymore.

  The kiss was softer than I expected, and his lips, and then his tongue, slowly eased the tension from my body. He tasted the same as he smelled. Salty and spicy, and so damn good I wanted more. I opened myself to him, I couldn’t help it, and suddenly the kiss went from downright sweet to something else entirely.

  In one easy movement, he picked me up. With his arms under mine, he swung me around so I was leaning against the building behind us, a protective movement to shield us from the prying eyes of passersby. The concrete wall felt like ice on my back but that was probably because the front of me was burning up, pressed against John’s solid chest. He pushed a strong thigh between my legs to hoist me up to his level.

  My hands were in his hair, roaming over his face, the stubble grazing my palms and wrists. It made me wonder what it would feel like against the skin on my stomach or between my legs.

  I pushed myself against him and a low groan escaped his throat, like a tiger growling. The sound of it heated my blood. I could feel the hard length of him against my leg. His hands were on my hips, holding me in position and they gripped me tighter.

  “Scarlett,” he murmured.

  I didn’t reply except to pull his head back down so I could taste those lips again, to drink him in.

  “Scarlett.” His tone was firmer and there was a distinct hint of frustration to it.

  I ignored him, my hands trave
ling down strong biceps. Even in my lust-induced state I felt driven to study this man, who was a living, breathing work of art.

  “Scarlett!” He pulled back roughly. His fingers dug into my shoulders as he held me at arm’s length. “Stop.” He was breathing heavily, his broad chest rising and falling with the effort of retaining control.

  Fuck control.

  I tried to move toward him but he wasn’t letting me go anywhere.

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  I let out a frustrated huff, my breathing similarly labored.

  “I’m not a limited time offer.”

  I frowned, hearing my earlier words thrown back at me. “John—”

  “You take me to bed and I’m not leaving the next morning. I’m the sort of guy who sticks around.”

  His transparency was admirable, but he was fighting a losing battle. “That’s why I never invite men back to my place. I’m the one who leaves in the morning.”

  He shook his head at me in amazement. “So when you ordered me into the cab, where were we going? My place?”

  “Yes.”

  John let go of my shoulders and took a step back. He turned away. Putting his hands on his hips, he stood and watched the road, seemingly to gather his thoughts.

  I leaned back against the wall. This time, instead of it being a cool relief, I felt a chill. I was not going to feel guilty. He knew me well enough to know what he was getting into. I may have developed an attraction to him, but that didn’t mean I was going to turn my world upside down to suit him. I didn’t do relationships and there was no point denying it.

  He walked back toward me. He came so close I resisted the need to suck in my breath.

  He looked down at me. “The only way I’ll sleep with you is if you ask me home,” he said quietly.

  I stared into his brown eyes. They were genuine and filled with certainty.

  I tipped my chin up in defiance. “What makes you think I’ll ask you?”

  “Because of this.”

  He rested a palm on the wall up above my head and leaned down. His lips brushed mine, just a whisper of a touch, but it left my body humming and my senses swimming.

  When he was done, he didn’t move away. He watched me carefully, his breath continuing to taunt the sensitive nerve endings on my cheek.