How about that hottie at the end of the bar? If this were my one-night stand, hes the guy Id pick.
Lisa Randall followed her best friends gaze. Courtney had good taste. The man swiveling on a black leather stool had dusky brown eyes, the enticing shadow of beard along his hard-planed cheek, and broad shoulders that narrowed to slim hips. But I didnt say I was going to do it. Just considering it.
Well consider fast, Girlfriend, before someone else scoops him up. Courtney licked her lips. Possibly me.
What about Jared?
Courtney shrugged. What about him?
Lisa rolled her eyes. Since theyd moved to L.A. from Texas, Court had been involved in four relationships--five if you counted the guy theyd met driving out here and stayed with for a couple of weeks until they'd gotten settled. Fun-for-the-moment guys, but not husband material. Courtney wasnt looking for long-term.
But Lisa was. And in the last two years all shed met were Mr. Wrongs.
Well? Courtney nudged her shoulder.
Lisa slid toward the edge of the booth for a better view. Im thinking. Stalling, you mean.
Her heart hammered with the same intensity as when shed had to sing a solo for fifth grade graduation. What if he isnt interested?
Courtney sipped her pina colada. Only one way to find out.
This was crazy. But sometimes, after a bad breakup, it was good to cleanse the palate, right? At the thought of partaking of that delicious specimen of maleness, Lisas mouth watered.
You deserve this. She swung her legs over the side of the bench. And at that moment, Mr. Hotter-than-Midland-in-August stopped swiveling and met her gaze.
Holy macaroni. His eyes were pools a woman could drown in. Though they remained fixed on her face, his intense gaze had the effect of slowly, painstakingly undressing her.
It was not an unpleasant feeling.
Go time, Courtney whispered.
Limbs that felt like somebody elses legs propelled Lisa from her seat and toward the bar. She felt as if she were moving in slow motion but maybe that was just the way shed remember it afterward. Dont trip, she warned her high heeled sandals. Remember to breathe.
Up close, the man had a killer smile. Not a fake grin, although how would she know if he were sincere or not? She strode confidently toward his barstool as if she did this kind of thing every day of her life. Hi.
Great opening, Lisa. You couldnt think of something, anything more original?
Hey, he said. His voice was deep and yet mellow, smooth as sanded glass. Can I buy you a drink?
Okay, so he wasnt any more polished at this than she was. But shed come this far, shed look like a fool if she backed off now. Sure. Dirty martini, please. She sat on the stool next to his.
He ordered the cocktail and another scotch for himself. Im Matt. Lisa.
Nice to meet you, Lisa.
He didnt ask if she came here often. Or say that her eyes reminded him of the stars, or that she looked good in her black rhinestone-studded jump suit that Courtney had convinced her to buy. He just sipped his drink as if he had all the time in the world. And there was no need to make small talk, was there? They both knew why shed come to sit next to him. At least hed offered her a drink first. Because there was no way she could do this sober.
As she sipped the liquid courage, Lisa stole glances at her companion. He didnt look nervous. Probably he was used to women coming on to him. Maybe she was the second or third this week.
Does it matter? The cold vodka slid down her throat in a brain freeze. She winced.
Put your hand over your mouth and blow into it, Matt advised.
She did as he suggested and the pain stopped. Thanks.
No problem.
She drank her martini at a slower speed, knowing what draining the bottom signaled. Matt downed his scotch but seemed in no hurry, content to let this thing evolve according to Lisas comfort.
At last she pushed her empty glass aside, trying to quiet the pounding of her heart. Thanks for the drink.
He nodded. Then wiped away a droplet of sweat from his upper lip. Want to get some air?
She slid off the stool and followed him to the door. Her eyes searched for Courtney but her vision was a little bleary.
My trucks just over there, he said, pointing to a dark colored pickup. We can drive down to the beach.
Sanity fought its way past the blur of surging primal emotions. I dont think so, Matt. Shed just picked up a guy in a bar. What if he was a serial killer? She tried for a light tone and a silly grin. My mother always told me not to accept a ride from a stranger.
He couldnt deny he was exactly that. Fair enough, he said. We can just take a walk down the block.
They set out, but before theyd made it to the corner, the humidity and the mosquitoes attacked Lisa with a vengeance. She reversed direction. Does your truck have air-conditioning?
Yes.
Why dont we just sit inside and listen to the radio or something?
The or something seemed to pique his interest. He opened the passenger door and helped her step up, then slid his well-shaped butt into the drivers seat and turned on the engine and the air. You want to pick the radio station?
Lisa could have cared less whether they listened to classical music or gangsta rap. She just wanted something to drown out her pounding heart, and her heavy breathing. She reached for the tails of Matts shirt but hed already grabbed it and yanked it over his head. Lisa peeled herself out of her jumpsuit and climbed onto his lap in her bra and panties. His bare lap.
The last vestiges of anything resembling rationality fled. As she clutched and pawed, ached and moaned, Lisas last discernible thought was wondering if the trucks windows would fog up like in that love scene from Titanic.
