LUNA
I walkedinto the Drip to the sound of whistles and cat calls, courtesy of Monica. “Look at you! You’re like the hot, curvy librarian all teenage boys wish they had working at their high school.”
I grinned, my face heating from the attention my friend had just drawn as I made my way to the counter. “It’s not too much?” I asked, running a hand along my front to brush at the non-existent wrinkles. The top was a bright candy apple red that might have looked plain if not for the adorable eyelet sleeves. I wore it tucked into a high-waisted black pencil skirt that hit just below my knees, and paired the whole outfit with round-toed sling-backs with pencil-thin three-inch heels.
It had taken some serious cajoling on Cheyanne’s part, but I’d eventually caved and let her take me on a mini-shopping spree so I could get a suitable wardrobe for my new job. I would have gladly paid for it myself, but until my paychecks started coming in, there was no way I could have afforded it. Then there was the small matter of most of my business clothes either not fitting thanks to the stress pounds I’d put on or being on consignment shop racks waiting to be purchased second-hand so I could have some extra cash.
“Are you kidding? The red is so bold and fun. And I’d kill for your ass in that skirt.”
“It’s my first day at a new job, Mon. This isn’t about my ass looking good. I want to make sure I look professional.”
“You do. Absolutely,” she assured me. “You look like a professional hot, curvy librarian straight out of a teenage boy’s fantasy.”
I snatched one of the wrapped straws out of the holder on the counter and aimed at her forehead, missing the mark when it caught air and veered to the left. “It’s not about that!”
She cut her eyes at me, her expression screaming, girl, who you fooling? “Of course it’s not. Because you don’t care about looking good in front of the tall, built, ten-years-from-certified-silver-fox attorney.” She snapped her fingers sarcastically. “Oh wait, you’ve already been there and done that.”
My expression fell, my features going blank. “Should have known that particular bit of gossip’s already started its journey down the grapevine.”
Monica leaned forward, bracing her elbow on the counter, and rested her chin in her palm. “Oh, sweetie. It’s been three days. That juicy little nugget’s already made it to the end of that vine and is on its return trip, hitting up extra stops along the way. Everyone’s talking about it.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper and waggled her brows. “I have to know; how was he? Those serious starched-collar types are usually the biggest freaks in the bedroom.”
My face felt like it was about to catch fire, and I was certain my cheeks had to be the color of my shirt. I felt a small twinge between my thighs, my nipples stiffening into diamond points, as the memories of our night at the inn flashed through my brain. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with me? The man had proven himself to be a grade A, prime one asshole of the highest order, and if that wasn’t bad enough, his little felon daughter wasn’t much better.
“I knew it!” Monica whisper-yelled, pointing at my face. “He totally rocked your world! That’s why you’re all flushed right now, isn’t it; because you’re remembering?”
“I hate you so much,” I hissed. “And I’m telling Sam you’re overly interested in my sex life.”
“Meh.” She shrugged like it was nothing. “My man takes care of things at home, believe me.” She gave me another eyebrow waggle that made me laugh. “But we’re the boring married couple now.”
“I highly doubt there’s anything boring about your relationship.” Fact of the matter was, Sam Killborne had been labeled Whitecap’s most eligible bachelor when he moved to town years ago. With his looks, his build, and the fact that he was a former professional football player, the single ladies in town had gone a little insane in their competition to catch the man’s eye; not that any of them held a candle to my girl, Monica. “They’d been married nearly a decade now, and I was convinced that #relationshipgoals had been created just for them.
Her features softened, her eyes glazing over dreamily. “This is very true. Okay, so I’m just nosy. Also, I want all my friends to find their happily ever afters like I did with Sam. Cheyanne’s got Trent, and the two of them are so sickeningly adorable I could puke, so now I’m shifting my focus to you.”
“Well, you can take that focus, turn it around, and send it right the hell back where it came from. You know my rule.”
Monica held up her hands grudgingly. “Yeah, yeah. You don’t do relationships.”
I nodded briskly. “That’s right. No relationships.” I let out a grumble as she made my usual coffee. “Believe me, if I’d had any clue who he really was, I wouldn’t have touched him with a ten-foot pole.”
But then I wouldn’t have gotten to experience that once-in-a-lifetime unicorn sex, I reminded myself silently.
Monica blew out a raspberry and set my drink in front of me. “Sure, keep telling yourself that. But I swear to God, one of these days you’re going to meet someone who knocks you flat on your ass, and I’m going to be right there to say ‘I told you so’ when it happens.”
I took my first fortifying sip of that blessed caffeine before giving her a big, cheesy grin. “I’d expect nothing less. I’m off! Have to hustle so I’m not late for my first day.”
“Good luck!” she called, waving after me as I sauntered out of the coffee shop on my new heels. “You’re going to slay it, babe!”
I cruised along Water Street with the sun shining brightly through the windshield of the zippy new rental car I’d be driving around until mine got out of the shop. I found a place to park about half a block from the cheery yellow house-turned-law-firm and climbed out, hooking my purse on my shoulder before beeping the locks and heading toward my new workplace.
The grass was still lush and emerald green. The flowers in the beds were still vibrant as I made my way up the front walk. I’d half expected the door to be locked, and let out what I hoped was a subtle sigh of relief when it pulled right open and I was greeted by the welcoming coolness of air conditioning inside.
My heels clicked on the parquet floor as I stepped across the threshold and started in the direction of the empty desk I’d seen last time I was here. “Hello?” I called out, proud that the nerves I felt fluttering in my belly didn’t come through in my voice.
Nate stepped out of his office, a finely built man of six-plus-feet in a bespoke suit that made my belly quiver the moment I laid eyes on him. His button-down shirt was a light blue this morning, tucked into a pair of navy slacks. His brown leather belt matched his dress shoes to perfection, both of which cost a pretty penny. He’d stripped off the jacket at some point after arriving, and I noticed that, just like the day I’d come in for my disastrous interview, he was without a tie, the top button of his collar undone.
It really was cruel for a man to look that damn good. I’d heard mention from Georgia that he was forty—eleven years older than I was, not that he looked it, the stupid jerk. I didn’t have the first clue what he looked like when he was younger, but looking at him now, it was obvious the asshole had only gotten better with age.
“Nice of you to finally make it,” he groused.