Love isn’t on either of their radars, but Carly and Bryant’s paths are about to collide.
The scent of his cologne intensifies, pouring that honey into buckets.
I glance over, and his eyes are solely on me. That damn grin is splashed on his lips.
“Don’t worry. I left my weapon in the room.”
“And your gray sweatshirt, I see.”
Too bad he replaced it with a nice pair of slacks and a polo shirt. The blue in his shirt only causes his aqua eyes to become more vibrant and alluring.
He leans close to my ear, and my breathing hiccups quickly. “NFL quarterback by day, abductor at night.”
I square my shoulders, turning my eyes directly at him. “I’m sorry, okay? But what did you expect a woman to assume? It was dark, and you were some random guy sitting alone on a beach, trying to hide your face. That bubbling personality of yours wasn’t exactly exuding when I walked by.”
I cross my arms over my chest, and his eyes focus on my pushed up breasts.
“I suppose I see your point.”
“Plus, you’re a big guy, and I think you could have handled me pretty easily,” I add.
That damn smirk grows. “So, the thought of us together crossed your mind, too?”
My face instantly heats. “I meant, you pinning me to the ground.” Once the words leave my mouth, I wish I could grab them back, but he’s too quick.
His eyes flash with excitement, and he widens his stance.
“What?” I ask out of pure annoyance to the fluster this man brings out of me.
“I’m just waiting,” he says with his classic flirtatious tone.
“For what?”
“To hear how you wish last night would have turned out.”
“Ugh. You’re impossible. A typical pro athlete who believes every girl is for your taking.”
“I’m just going along with what you’ve been telling me.”
“Let’s just get through this dinner. Then, you can go to the pool bar and use your charm to pick up a random girl for the night.”
He chuckles that hearty laugh, rolling back on his heels. “You’re one of those then?” He purses his lips and nods, as though he has me all figured out.
“One of who?”
“The girl who acts like she’d never resort to sleeping with a pro athlete.”
“First off, I’m a woman, not a girl.”
My arms clamp tighter together, and again, his vision dips to my breasts.
“My apologies. You’re definitely a woman.” The side of his lips tip up as he glances down once more.
I let my arms fall, and his eyes float back to my eyes.
“I’m not playing a game, Mr. Garrity. I assure you, I don’t want you for a night or ever.”
He steps closer, and my heartbeat speeds up, but I stand my ground, meeting his eyes and trying everything in my power to be unfazed by his nearness.
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Michelle Lynn is a USA Today Bestselling Author. She moved around the Midwest most of her life, transferring from school to school before settling down in the outskirts of Chicago ten years ago, where she now resides with her husband and two kids. She developed a love of reading at a young age, which helped lay the foundation for her passion to write. With the encouragement of her family, she finally sat down and wrote one of the many stories that have been floating around in her head. When she isn't reading or writing, she can be found playing with her kids, talking to her mom on the phone, or hanging out with her family and friends. But after chasing around two preschools all day, she always cherishes her relaxation time after putting the kids to bed. 