Blake
took
another
gulp of
his beer
and
tried to
shake
out the
dark
thoughts
closing
in on
him.
Maybe
after a
few more
drinks,
he’d
actually
be able
to
forget
his
situation.
Maybe.
The
music
screamed
along, a
bass-heavy
beat
pounding
against
the
walls.
Blake
drained
the last
of his
beer and
turned
around
to face
the
bartender.
“Another,
please,”
he said.
The
bartender
nodded,
and soon
another
ice-cold
bottle
was
cradled
in
Blake’s
hand. He
brought
the
bottle
up to
his lips
and
turned
to face
the
crowd
again.
Before
he could
take a
swig,
however,
a woman
standing
at the
edge of
the
dance
floor
caught
his
attention.
He
lowered
the
bottle
so he
could
get a
better
view.
Long
legs,
muscular
yet
slender,
snaked
their
way up
to a hot
little
black
dress
contained
in a
spider
web of a
sweater.
Red
curls
spilled
down the
back of
this
beautiful
creature
in silky
waves,
stopping
just
above
one
taut-looking
ass. If
he was
looking
for…
But
you’re
not, so
take it
easy.
Blake
shook
his head
and took
that
first
sip of
beer,
squeezing
his eyes
shut to
block
out the
woman.
When he
was done
drinking,
however,
he
couldn’t
stop his
eyes
from
settling
back on
her. She
was
sandwiched
between
a girl
about
her size
with
funky
short
hair and
a man in
a black
leather
blazer.
Is she
with the
guy or
is the
other
girl?
Not that
it
mattered.
It
didn’t.
It
absolutely
didn’t.
God,
she’s
beautiful
though.
Blake
watched
as
Leather
Blazer
swept
Short
Hair
onto the
dance
floor. A
small
smile
tugged
at
Blake’s
lips as
Red
Curls
was left
standing
alone at
the edge
of the
swarming
crowd.
Why did
it
please
him to
know she
wasn’t
with
Leather
Blazer?
She
looked a
little
awkward
standing
on the
fringe
of the
dancing.
Like she
didn’t
quite
know
what to
do with
herself.
Her left
foot
tapped a
rhythm,
making
all the
muscles
in her
leg
constrict
and
relax,
constrict
and
relax.
Blake
couldn’t
take his
eyes off
that
shapely
leg even
though
the beat
it kept
wasn’t
quite in
sync
with the
music.
As if
under
their
own
power,
Blake’s
feet
took him
a couple
of steps
closer
to the
dance
floor—something
his
conscious
mind
would
never
do. The
heat
from the
flickering
overhead
lights,
from the
crowd
itself,
gushed
over
him. He
stopped
just a
few
yards
behind
Red
Curls,
admiring
the view
of her
in
greater
detail.
Go back
to the
bar,
man.
Don’t
talk to
her. You
don’t
need any
more
complications.
Blake
was
about to
head
back to
the
safety
of a bar
stool
when Red
Curls
turned
around,
catching
him in a
piercing,
green-eyed
gaze.
He
wasn’t
going
anywhere
now.
