Page 8
“Like in Top Gun?” She tilted her head, studying the silver in his stubbled jawline. God, he wore it well. It was sexy as hell, and she barely resisted the urge to reach out and touch it. What would it feel like against her skin? Or, better yet, scratching along her naked body?
Stop it, Summer.
Schooling her features, trying to pretend she wasn’t imagining him nuzzling every corner of her bare body, she cleared her throat.
He nodded but didn’t elaborate. She knew he could’ve probably bragged, and maybe a younger guy would’ve tried to impress her with his exploits, making it all about him. Instead, he turned the conversation to her. “What about you, Summer Holt?”
The way he said her name, his tone so deep and rich, sent a fresh wave of tingles through her body. And kudos to him for taking the time to remember her full name. Most people couldn’t bother looking up from their phone to even have a conversation nowadays. “What about me?”
“For starters, how did you wind up at Old Glory?”
“I live in Silver Creek,” she said. “So, pretty close.”
“That’s fitting.”
Her brow scrunched. “What do you mean?”
“A silver siren from Silver Creek.”
“Oh, please.” She didn’t know whether to laugh or punch him in the shoulder. Should she be insulted? Maybe the dim lighting made her look every single one of her fifty two years.
“I mean that as the highest compliment,” he murmured. “The moment I saw you, I was drawn to you. Sorry if that sounds cheesy or whatever, but it’s true. That’s never happened to me before.”
“You’re very honest.”
“I’m not usually so blunt, and I sincerely hope I didn’t just fuck this all up by implying you’re old. Because I honestly don’t care about your age at all. I’m the one with grays, anyway, not you.”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret—I color my hair. It’s naturally this shade, but now I need a little help covering those grays I absolutely have.” She wasn’t going to lie and pretend she was ten years younger. What would be the point? She’d lived through too much and earned every trip around the sun. Plus, he might—would?—find out eventually. “The truth is, I’m not twenty-five.” She let out a fake gasp of surprise, and he chuckled. “And I don’t want to be. I’m fifty-two, and I’ve learned to embrace each new year.” Her face fell a bit. “Because the alternative…”
“Isn’t good,” Lex finished. “Trust me, I know.” He leaned in a little closer. “Can I let you in on a secret, too?” She nodded, also leaning in, breathing in his cologne. Spice, tobacco, leather. So masculine. “Youth is overrated. Getting older has its perks.”
“Really?” The word came out far huskier than she’d intended.
He smirked. “For starters, movement now comes with sound effects. Kinda cool.” She chuckled. “I can predict the weather better than the meteorologist, depending on what aches the most.”
“Can I ask how old you are?”
“Ask away,” he invited, blue eyes dancing. They were the prettiest shade she’d ever seen and reminded her of the water surrounding a tropical island.
They were still leaning into each other’s space, and it would be so easy to tilt her head back and press her lips to his. She had a feeling they would be soft, yet firm enough to take command. She was willing to bet the former flyboy liked to take control, and she wouldn’t mind going for a ride with him.
Why were they still so close? She didn’t know and she didn’t care. She just reveled in it. “How old are you, Lex Battle?”
“Forty-six.”
Oh, no. Her heart sank a bit. She was six years older? Dammit. Good-looking silver foxes like him tended to go for younger women, not older.
“Oh.” She couldn’t hide her disappointment and moved back, reaching for her Cosmo.
“Okay, now I’m worried.”
She quirked a brow. “About what?”
“That wasn’t quite the reaction I wanted. It makes me think you don’t date older men.”
“Smooth.” Now it was his turn to arch a brow. “I’m the one who’s older.”
“Ask me if I care?” He didn’t miss a beat. “Because if you think something as silly as a number is going to stop me from pursuing the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met, think again.”
