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Heather: I didn’t know that was a date.
Ryker: You’re right. A date ends with a kiss. Dirty and deep, making you long for more.
Holy hell! I could practically feel his lips on mine. I was on fire. On freaking fire. My skin was sizzling, the tips of my breasts turned sensitive. The brush of my bra was torture. This was getting out of hand. I had no idea what to write back.
Next thing I knew, I had an incoming call from Ryker. I seriously considered not answering. Surely, the sound of his voice wasn’t going to improve... anything. But it would be rude to ignore the call. Plus... I wanted to hear his voice. It was just a call.
The second I answered, I knew I was in deep trouble.
“Hi, Heather.”
“Hello, possible stranger,” I teased. I had no idea why I kept up the charade. Well, it was fun.
“You need a reminder about our evening. Let’s see. You came to look for me under the pretense of making it up to me for the other night.”
My jaw dropped. “It wasn’t pretend. I absolutely meant it.”
“You also used that excuse to invite me to a drink,” he went on as if I hadn’t interrupted.
“Again, not an excuse.” I was grinning. By the tone of his voice, I was sure that so did he.
“So my good looks and talent didn’t have anything to do with your invitation?”
Yes, they totally did, but I couldn’t admit that and not talk myself into a corner. Of course I would have offered to pay repairs to anyone, but inviting them for a drink? When I didn’t reply, he simply went on.
“We had drinks. Then you had to leave, and I tried to trick you into staying. I almost convinced you—”
“You didn’t.”
“Really?”
Eh... what could I say? He’d gotten an excellent read on me.
“You know, even though your interpretation of the events is a little imaginative, it does ring a bell, Ryker.”
I was fully aware that I’d avoided answering every time he’d put me on the spot.
“Imaginative?” he asked.
“Very,” I emphasized. “Are you still at the Northern Lights?”
I wondered if any woman in the audience had caught his eye... if he was leaving the bar alone. What on earth? It wasn’t any of my business if he was with a woman. Except... I was really hoping he wasn’t.
“Nah, I’m home already. Set was short, and I left right after. I have an early call tomorrow,” he said.
“Oh. I assumed you slept in, since you work in the evenings.”
“Guitar playing is just something I do for fun. My day job requires me to wake up early, unfortunately.”
“What is your day job?”
“Venture capitalism.”
“You work in finance?” Holy hell.
“Yep.”
His leather jacket flashed in my memory. I’d gotten an eyeful of his jeans too. They screamed nonconformity and all-around bad boy.
