Lexi Wells took a fortifying gulp of wine. Okay, it was more like she shotgunned half the glass, but who was keeping track anyway? Buzzy warmth spread through her body, and she instantly regretted skipping lunch. The granola bar she’d inhaled a few hours ago did nothing to soak up the booze. She swore she’d sip her next glass.
Lexi glanced around the trendy wine bar. Desperately Seeking Desperate should’ve been the tag line for tonight’s event. She’d attended a few of these local cocktail parties that eMatch had set up, and while it wasn’t as bad as speed dating, it was still awkward. Some people were mingling, but there were also large clusters of same-sex groups, like a junior high dance. Online dating was torturous, and interacting with real live people, when you stepped away from the computer screen, was daunting. At least she knew the wine would be stellar, unlike the last event where the booze had been cheap and the mechanical bull in the corner of the bar had taunted her to relive her college days. She shuddered. No thanks.
So, here she was—looking pretty hot, if she did say so herself—in a deep purple wrap dress and mile-high strappy heels that always gave her a boost of confidence, ready to meet other singles. Her cousin had found love online, so how hard could it be?
But that was over two years ago…
Well, it was fucking hard, and not in a good way. She needed to get good and laid—repeatedly—according to her friend, Amanda. She sighed. The last time she’d had sex had been with her ex-husband, and they’d been divorced for almost four years. Wow. Maybe she should listen to Amanda. Was it possible for her virginity to grow back? She looked down, expecting to see a sign saying, “Closed due to lack of interest.”
Not that she hadn’t had some offers, but she wasn’t going to sleep with just anyone. When they said trolling the Internet, they meant it, and there were a lot of trolls she stumbled across in her search for the perfect man.
Not that he had to be perfect. Just someone she was attracted to, who she could hold a conversation with, who could give her mind-blowing orgasms, hold a steady job, and fall in love with her six-year-old daughter. Was that impossible?
She’d been tempted to make that her bio, but her friend Penny had warned her that if she put the word “orgasm” in her dating profile, she’d probably attract the wrong kind of guy. Who was she kidding, even without that word she didn’t seem to be attracting the right kind.
She set her empty glass down and glanced around the bar. She would allow herself one more drink, hopefully purchased by her imaginary dream man while he told her about his steady eight-to-five job, healthy performing 401K, and desire to settle down with a few kids and a white picket fence. And maybe a dog. She’d always wanted a pet.
Good luck with that.
“Can I get you anything?” the hunky bartender asked her with a suggestive smile.
She’d caught him looking her way a few times tonight, but he was so young, probably early twenties. She’d like to ask him about his healthy performing…
No. Absolutely not. Way too young for her. Not that she was expecting her AARP card in the mail anytime soon at the ripe old age of thirty, but he was still too young for her.
She never thought she’d be here at this point in her life. She was supposed to be settled and happy with at least two kids and a loving husband. She had one child—Abby was amazing—but the loving husband thing hadn’t really worked out. More like Captain Douchebag had done a number on her, and she was still trying to recover.
No, she wasn’t going to get all maudlin thinking about Joe. Tonight was about her. She’d ruined enough years of her life on him. It was time to move on to bigger and better.
She smiled at the bartender. “Can you refill my wine glass with ginger ale? I’m not ready for another drink yet.”
“Of course.”
Twenty-one. He couldn’t be more than twenty-one. Step away from the child.
“Thanks,” she said as she grabbed her mocktail and moved away from him.
The bar had filled up in the hour since she’d arrived. She hated these events. And if you were alone—forget it—it felt like high school all over again. She was tempted to join the small group of women at the other end of the bar, but she knew that men tended to avoid packs…fear of rejection or the inability to draw out the weakest in the herd.
She internally snorted. Clearly, she needed to lay off the Animal Planet marathons, although it was a pretty accurate representation of the dating world. She would stay right here, sipping her soda, nibbling on the appetizers they’d just set out, and hopefully sending out pheromone-enriched vibes to all the sexy and successful men in attendance.
***
A couple hours later, Lexi was ready to throw in the towel. Apparently, her pheromones were on the fritz, since she’d been sucked into one mind-numbing conversation after another with guys she had no interest in. At least she’d gotten a glass of wine out of the last one, who was currently talking her ear off about computer code.
She darted her gaze around the room hoping to recognize anyone in order to politely excuse herself, but the crowd had started to diminish, people leaving in pairs. At least some of them were successful tonight.
She paused on a guy at the other end of the bar. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him tonight. Not that her eyes were following him around the room or anything, but he was just so nice to look at. And his smile…
He had one of those panty-melting smiles where his eyes crinkled, and she wanted to bury herself in his arms and feel that dark scruff against her cheek. A slate gray button down stretched across the breadth of his chest as he leaned against the bar, drinking a beer. He was about a foot taller than her and could probably pick her up while she wrapped her legs around his waist and nibbled on his lower lip.
Whoa. Where had that very detailed thought come from?
She pushed that image away and tried to focus on the guy in front of her. He was talking about operating systems and what his company preferred to use. She nodded, taking a sip of her wine. Hopefully she hadn’t just agreed to another date. This was why she needed a wingwoman. Amanda would’ve made up an excuse and had her out of this conversation in one minute flat.
Fiddling with the stem of her glass, she glanced down the end of the bar again. Shit. He was looking at her, smile still in place. She turned her attention back to the guy in front of her, took a final sip of her wine, and set it down on the bar.
“I hate to do this—” What was his name? Steve, maybe. God, she sucked at remembering names, and she always felt like an ass asking for it at the end of a conversation.
A hand settled at the small of her back. A warm, large hand that obviously hadn’t come from Steve, unless he was super flexible.
“Sorry that took so long. Are you ready?” A deep voice rolled over her in waves, sending shivers down to her toes.
She half-turned to face the voice, her gaze traveling up, over well-defined, broad shoulders to a scruffy jaw accentuating a plump lower lip—the one she’d fantasized nibbling on—before stopping at his eyes. They looked like melted chocolate. The corner of his mouth tilted up in a cocky smile, and she held back the desire to lick her lips. “What?” That totally sounded like a breathy squeak. Apparently, she’d lost her vocal abilities.
“Dinner? I was able to get a table at that Italian place a few doors down.” He glanced over her shoulder at Steve before smiling at her with a small nod.
“If you already have plans…”
Steve stuttered beside her, but she was still caught in her mystery man’s gaze. “Oh, right, dinner,” she said, but it sounded more like a question.
“I guess I’ll go then. Maybe we could see each other again?” Steve asked, pure hope in his voice.
Lexi turned back to Steve. “I’m sorry, but we did make plans,” she said, trying to sound polite, but not encouraging. “It was nice chatting with you, Steve.” When he brightened at her comment, she wished she’d kept her mouth shut.
“If you ever want to grab dinner,” he said, handing his card to her, “give me a call.”
“Thanks,” she said, pocketing the card as he walked away.
“Poor sap, and you’re welcome,” her rescuer said, leaning back against the bar, his grin widening, cockiness brimming from his voice.
She bristled at his arrogant tone. Sure, he was nice to look at, but she knew his type and had no desire to have dinner with another controlling, arrogant man. She’d had enough of that type to last a lifetime.
Yes, he’d saved her, but she wished he’d stayed at the other end of the bar, looking hot, mysterious, and mute.
The woman Grant had been trying not to stare at all night caught his gaze again. He’d spotted her across the room an hour ago and had watched her eyes dart to the door and down the hall to the bathrooms a few times, before she scanned the bar. Their eyes had met twice, this time her smile had been pained before she’d turned back to the most recent guy in front of her. She’d had “rescue me” written all over her, so he’d pushed away from his end of the bar to step in, unable to stop himself.
And now her hazel eyes, that only moments before had held clear interest, held only clear irritation. She flipped a loose wave of auburn hair over her shoulder, drawing his attention to the deep V of her dress. The dress that wrapped around her body, accentuating her lush curves. She was stunning, and he wanted to whisk her out of this stupid meet-up and have her look at him with clear interest again.
She shifted away from him, his hand falling to his side, but that brief touch still tingled in his fingers, and he wanted more.
“Thanks, but I could’ve handled that myself.”
The words sounded forced, drawing him out of his thoughts. “Yeah. Looked like it.”
She huffed. “You do realize how cocky you sound, right? Does that work on most?”
Her cheeks were pink in annoyance, but he was undeterred. He grinned. “Usually.”
“Seriously? I didn’t need your help. Now if you’d excuse me,” she bit out, grabbing her bag and stepping away from the bar.
“Leaving so soon? Can I get you another drink?” he asked, ignoring her snippy tone, not ready to let her leave. Damn. He was usually better at this, and he was sure he hadn’t hallucinated her interest earlier.
“No thanks,” she replied, pulling her purse strap tighter on her shoulder, glaring at him.
“Just one drink. You wouldn’t want Steve to think you’d used me to blow him off, right? That wouldn’t be very nice of you,” he said with mock seriousness.
“But if we stayed for a drink, then he’d definitely think you made up those dinner reservations,” she shot back before glancing over her shoulder.
He followed her gaze to see Steve a couple spots down the bar, already talking to another woman.
“Looks like he’s fine,” she said, turning back to Grant, amusement in her tone.
Wow. Go Stevie boy. Grant hadn’t thought the guy would move on so quickly. He’d looked crestfallen when Grant had stepped in. “Right. So dinner it is.”
“You can’t be serious?”
“Completely. Come on. The event is almost over and, for the last hour, you kept looking at the door.” Her eyes widened, and he wanted to kick himself for being obvious. “Not that I was watching you or anything.” Now he just sounded creepy.
“Right. Well, I’m going to go now,” she said, moving slowly away from him.
He usually had better game than this. “And what? Just chock the night up as a loss? You should get at least one good conversation out of the evening. I’ll even pay for dinner.” He was glad his friend, Matt, couldn’t hear his pathetic attempt to convince her.
“How generous of you. Good conversation and dinner? How could I pass that up?”
She was laughing at him. He shook his head. Jesus. He was floundering. Get it together, man.
“Great. So how’s Italian sound?” he asked. “I’m Grant, by the way.”
“And, I’m going to pass,” she said.
“Maybe I should walk out with you?”
She stared at him. “Why?”
“You know, so that Steve doesn’t think you just blew him off.”
God. He sounded like a moron. Stop talking, you idiot. But he caught the hint of a smile before she masked it with annoyance again.
“I think I’ll be alright, but thanks again.”
She turned and walked away before he could say anything else, her dress swishing around her curves. He almost called out for her number, but he refused to be that pathetic. He took a long pull on his beer before rolling his shoulders back. The drills at work today had been brutal, but not as painful as that brush off had been.
He shook his head and made his way back over to Matt, hoping for a quick goodbye so he could escape. Why he’d agreed to this shit, he didn’t know. He wasn’t even on eMatch, but he had tagged along since his friend hated going to these things alone.
“I’m going to head out,” Grant said once he stopped next to Matt.
“Dude, who was that? And why didn’t you introduce us?” Matt asked.
“Just a woman who looked like she needed rescuing.”
Matt grinned. “Always trying to rescue someone. And how did it go?”
“Saved her from a guy that was boring her to tears, but she claimed she didn’t need my services.”
“Her loss. There’s plenty of women to pick from,” Matt said.
“Whatever. This online dating is your thing, not mine,” Grant said, placing his empty bottle on the bar.
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. You’re going home alone, and I’m taking Lisa,” Matt nodded at the svelte blonde who was walking toward them, “out for a late dinner.”
“Glad to see your night was a success,” Grant replied, rolling his eyes. “But I’m not looking for anything long term right now.”
“It’s dinner and drinks, not a marriage proposal.”
Grant chuckled. “Yeah. I know. Next time, get one of the other guys to be your wingman.”
“You definitely had some options tonight, except the one you wanted. Maybe if you’d had better game, she wouldn’t have shot you down,” Matt quipped.
“Whatever, man. I’m heading out since you clearly don’t need my assistance anymore,” Grant said, just as Lisa stopped next to Matt, who made quick introductions.
“Enjoy your night, and I’ll see you on base tomorrow,” Grant said to Matt. “Nice meeting you, Lisa.”
Grant walked out into the brisk night, pulling his collar up as he jogged to his car. He tried to push aside thoughts of his mystery woman. He wished he’d gotten her name. He shook his head. No. It didn’t matter. She’d probably been there to find an actual relationship. He didn’t have time for that. He had four years left of moving around, then he could retire. When the time was right, he’d settle down, and it would work. He always succeeded when he set a goal for himself.
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