Chasing You (Thirsty Hearts Book 4) Page 5

  “Jesus. I should have known you were one of those high-maintenance women. Avocado on the side. Dressing on the side. No cheese. No mayonnaise. Or is that just a black thing?”

  “What?” she screeched.

  “Th-the no mayonnaise thing.” Sam’s eyes got wider as his face grew pinker. Soon, he’d be purple.

  “How about I just don’t fucking like mayonnaise?”

  Sam put up a hand as if to slow her down. “Whatever. I’m not trying to be racist. I honestly thought that was a thing, maybe.”

  Alexa decided to ignore his ramblings about black people and mayonnaise, but she knew she was done. She pulled two twenties out of her purse and threw them on the table.

  “That should cover my sandwich and the wine.”

  “You’re leaving? The food is still coming.”

  “Take mine. My treat. Have a nice night.”

  The staccato beat of her delivery smacked the fight—and the words—out of Sam. Alexa heard nothing behind her as she stormed out of Logan’s and down the two blocks to her car.

  Sliding behind the steering wheel, she exhaled. How had that gone down the toilet so fast? She pressed the start button and put the car in gear. It didn’t matter. Life was too short not to bail on nonsense.

  Hell, if I was going to spend the evening arguing, I could have done that with Graham. The thought exploded in her mind, and she raced to put out the fire.

  * * *

  > Date was a bust. What are you up to?

  The surprising text lit up Graham’s phone and his mood. Rather than communicate via messaging, he picked up the phone and called her.

  “Oh, hi. I didn’t expect you to call me.”

  “You wanted to know what I was doing. I was sitting here licking my wounds because one of Austin’s most stunning women put me off until this weekend.”

  In truth, Sierra was coming over later, when she finished slinging drinks at a whiskey bar downtown—slender, wicked Sierra with purple streaks in her jet hair and a matching pair of butterfly tattoos on her hip bones. Graham viewed them as placement markers for his thumbs.

  He wondered if Sierra was her real name. Given the unnaturally large globes on her narrow-ribbed chest, he figured that at some point she’d been a stripper. She had the talent. She often showed up at his house and began peeling off her clothes as soon as he opened the door. Sierra would fuck him into a coma and be gone by morning, which is how he liked it. Most of the time. For some reason, Alexa’s accommodation of that still irked him.

  His evening entertainment wouldn’t be over until extremely late—probably not until 2:30.

  “You’re full of flattery this evening. You must be lonely.” Her low voice swayed toward him over the phone.

  “Without you? Always. Where are you?”

  “I just left Logan’s. I was going to head home, but I’m all geared up to be out.”

  “Is your date still at Logan’s?”

  “I have no idea. I’m not going back there.”

  Graham pictured some poor schlub left slump-shouldered and pathetic to drown in tap beer as Alexa sashayed away. His loss. “Where do you live?”

  “Why?”

  “I thought I’d be a gentleman and meet you somewhere near your house.”

  “Oh. There’s a wine bar just off Lamar before you get to Barton Springs. In a house.”

  “I know the one.” Like a lot of places in that neighborhood, it was hipster heaven, but it was relatively chill and they’d be able to talk.

  “I could be there in ten minutes.”

  “It may take me twenty, but I’ll meet you there.”

  “Great.”

  Did she actually sound excited to see him? Graham would have to toast the schmo she dumped for the evening. Poor bastard or lucky bastard? The woman always gets to decide.

  Chapter Eight

  The unsuspecting house turned wine bar was tucked in an increasingly high-toned neighborhood near Zilker Park.

  Graham surveyed the long room to the right of the front door and didn’t see her, so he walked straight back. The heels of his dress shoes thwacked hollowly on the wood floor.

  A couple with blond dreadlocks sipped burgundy wine at the bar and assessed him as he entered—from the crisp French blue shirt, tucked into belted and expertly creased trousers, to the offending loafers. They exchanged smug snickers.

  Slipping into the back room, he saw the spiraling curls of his first date for the evening at a small round table in the corner of the room, facing the door.

  “I probably should have changed,” he announced, dropping into the chair next to her.

  “You do kind of look like a banker.”

  Alexa stretched her jean-clad legs, adjusting her flowing cotton top in a cornflower blue and sage green print.

  “I had meetings, and it’s not like I’m wearing a tie.”

  “In Austin, you look like a banker.”

  “Maybe I’ll start working on my dreads.”

  Alexa scrunched her nose. “Confession? White people in dreadlocks freak me out. I don’t know what’s going on there.”

  “They’re hip. White people can’t be hip?”

  “You’re free to do whatever you want. This is America. But,” she popped the word for effect, “it still freaks me out.”

  “Duly noted. Scratching dreadlocks off my list of style choices.”

  The waitress saw him and headed their direction.

  Graham looked at Alexa’s glass. “What are you drinking?”

  “An Oregon Pinot Noir. It’s delicious.”

  She pulled her glass to her lips and tipped the garnet liquid into her mouth. Graham loved the taste of wine or whiskey on a woman’s lips. Boozy kisses warmed your insides.

  She caught him staring and grinned around the rim of her glass.

  Graham mulled the tasty mix of Pinot and Alexa. “It looks delicious.”

  “What can I get you?” The waitress squeaked her question in one of those high-pitched, little-girl voices.

  Graham pointed to Alexa’s drink. “I’ll take what she’s having.”

  “Good choice. Would you guys like to get a bottle? You can take it with you if you don’t finish. We’ll cork it up for you and bag it.”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s okay.”

  Their conflicting answers muddled together.

  “Bring the bottle.” Graham turned to Alexa. “I’ll take it if you don’t want it.”

  “I’m just not going to drink that much. This is my second glass.”

  “Already?” He hoped Alexa didn’t always slam her drinks.

  “Not my second here. I had one on my shitty date. Or half of one. That’s how bad it was. I left my alcohol.”

  “Ahh. That’s a crime. I’m sorry.” Graham tilted his head in feigned sympathy, watching Alexa’s dimples flare.

  “You’re not in the least bit sorry.”

  “Hey, I’m trying to comfort you in your time of dating need.”

  The sweet smile she flashed him had him thinking some not-so-sweet thoughts. He cursed his luck for already having a late-night dance partner. Of course, Sierra was a sure thing. Nothing about Alexa was sure—even with the smile and the low seduction of her voice.

  “I know. Thanks for meeting me out.”

  “Any time.” He returned her smile and tapped the table. “How was your Christmas?”

  They chatted about their families and the holidays until the waitress arrived and poured his wine. A few sips plus her light mood encouraged to him to get some answers to some nagging questions.

  “Question…What were you doing in Dallas over New Year’s?”

  “I think you know what I was doing in Dallas over New Year’s.”

  In the low light of the bar, her eyes looked sleepy and seductive. Easy, man. He couldn’t take Alexa home tonight. Could he? The fantasy came and went. Sharing her—even with another woman—didn’t appeal.

  “I mean, why Dallas. Just up for the weekend or what
? You had to run off on New Year’s Day. Where’d you go?”

  “My cousin lives there. I had plans with Melissa to meet at her place for lunch.”

  “Melissa is your business partner, right? Is that who you were with on New Year’s?”

  “Yeah. That’s her. We had to get to Taryn’s for lunch. Plus, weren’t you and I kind of finished?”

  Finished? “I wasn’t. I think you noticed that. I wouldn’t have minded…you know…” Graham chuckled. “Buying you breakfast.”

  The corner of her mouth flickered at the innuendo. “Or ordering room service. You mentioned that. I just…didn’t want to extend something into the next day that I didn’t figure would turn into anything. I thought you lived up there.”

  “I used to. I grew up there.”

  “You were visiting friends?”

  “Yes.” Graham sighed. “One of my school friends was going through a tough situation. Lady related. Then, he got all depressed and bailed on me.”

  “Poor you.”

  “Exactly,” he chuckled. “Poor me. Don’t worry. He got it straightened out. They’re getting married on Valentine’s Day. He and his fiancée are expecting a baby.”

  Jonah had called him a week or so after New Year’s. Betting on Shannon worked out for him. He was the baby daddy, and they were now living in bliss. Another one of Graham’s wing men off the market.

  “I’m glad it worked out for him. And you get to put on a suit and buy a gravy boat.”

  “Nope. He’s doing a small, family-only wedding.”

  “You’re wiggling out of being a groomsman?”

  “He asked if it bothered me that I don’t get to be a best man. They don’t have any attendants. Honestly, I don’t think his wife-to-be has any family or many friends in the area.”

  “Odd.”

  Graham shrugged. “Whatever he wants. It’s funny. We used to run the streets together, and now he’s picking out curtains for the nursery. If you knew Jonah, you’d know how insane that is. I’d tell you stories, but we’re sworn to secrecy on the juiciest ones.”

  At times, Graham didn’t know what to make of his friend’s sudden domestication. Jonah was so…happy. The security of finding the one turned Jonah into a different guy. Graham enjoyed himself, but he had never been that happy.

  * * *

  For a moment, Alexa thought Graham might get sentimental. Only a flash, then the wickedness returned to his eyes.

  “My cousin is pregnant,” Alexa said. “She’s been overtaken with baby fever, but Taryn has always been that girl you knew was going to get married and be mommy. And her husband already had a daughter, so she’s been in mommy mode for a while.”

  “Jonah’s wife has a kid too.”

  “A ready-made family? Crazy, right?” Alexa cringed as if she’d swallowed something foul.

  “Totally.”

  “I mean. I’m pretty sure—” Alexa broke off her thought and laughed.

  “What?”

  “Are we going to talk about marriage and kids?” She grimaced again.

  “No. What’s your favorite sexual position?” Alexa palmed her face. Graham snapped his fingers over her head. “New topic. You’re welcome.”

  She raised her head. “There’s room for conversation between those two topics.”

  Graham covered the base of the wine glass with his fingers and circled it on the table, swirling his wine.

  “Okay. Here we go.”

  Alexa watched his strong, neatly trimmed fingers work the glass and swallowed. She hoped his next question didn’t have anything to do with sexual positions.

  “What’s your type? Guys, I think, mostly don’t have a type, but women tend to have a type of guy that they’re looking for. You all are very specific.”

  “I don’t know.” Alexa examined the raw wood beams of the ceiling above as she considered his theory. “I’ve dated different kinds of guys. They might all be tall because I’m tall. They tend to be athletic because I’m athletic. Other than that, I date all kinds of guys—personality-wise and career.”

  “So, eighty percent of the guys you’ve dated haven’t all been doctors? I know a lot of women who really zero in. They want to date a lawyer or a guy who owns a boat…or a lawyer who owns a boat.”

  “It sounds like you’ve been dating gold-digging women. Doctors, lawyers, and boats? I mean, I will admit I don’t want to have to pay guy’s rent. But I’m also not looking for a guy to pay mine.”

  “An independent woman.”

  “So everyone says. What about you? If I went through a scrapbook of your past girlfriends, would eighty percent of them be blonde or all be kindergarten teachers?”

  Alexa wasn’t sure she actually wanted the answer to that question. She didn’t usually spend much time contemplating the other women in a man’s life.

  “No kindergarten teachers, but I’ve dated all kinds of women—professional women, cocktail waitresses, women who own their own gym. All kinds.”

  Graham splayed his hands wide in front of him.

  “So, I’m squarely in your demographic? Female and breathing.”

  He grinned and gave her a thumbs up. “Precisely. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I like beautiful women, but what man doesn’t? Personality wise? Mostly, it’s just about chemistry. I know when I meet a woman if I’m going to see her again tomorrow. That’s my only qualification.”

  A shred of her heart sank, but she scraped it up and forced some humor. “Dammit. Now I don’t feel special and all.”

  “Oh, you’re special. You’re sexy, blunt, but sweet.”

  “Never in my life has anyone called me sweet.” Ever. Sweet wasn’t a goal of hers.

  Graham stretched his legs under the table, knocking his foot against Alexa’s. That sensation spreading up her leg? No. Not sweet. He disagreed.

  “What you’re doing for Toby and Sarah is sweet.”

  “They’re my friends. I don’t know that I have enough wide-eyed optimism or a perky enough personality for sweet.”

  “If it counts for anything, I meant it as a compliment.”

  Alexa raised her glass. “Compliment accepted. By the way, it’s nice of you to help out with the benefit. You just met Toby and Sarah, and you didn’t have to do it.”

  “They’re good people, and I get asked to donate to a lot of causes that aren’t as personal as this one.”

  “Well, it’s real sss-weet.” Alexa put on her most affected southern accent. Graham took a fake bow in his chair. “It’s nice to know that you’re not just some Casanova.”

  “Only on the weekends. And national holidays. But I could be talked out of that if I met the right woman. I’m open.”

  “But you have no idea who this ‘right woman’ is.”

  “I haven’t found her yet, and your Mr. Right is out there somewhere, too.”

  An itch in her chest seemed to start on the inside. Alexa scratched at it with no effect. “I try not to get wrapped up in the idea. It’s like a cult. All the married people in the world won’t rest until they are no single people whatsoever.”

  “I’ll settle down eventually.” The pitch of his voice fell off in defeat.

  “You sound thrilled.”

  “We’re both equally thrilled. Maybe it’s fate.” He took another sip of wine.

  Alexa knew better than to mistake his sardonic smile for a sincere one.

  She took another fingernail to her sternum and shifted the conversation to cover the details of their early family lives. Graham spent his endlessly torturing his baby sister, leaving Alexa glad she never had a brother.

  “I can’t believe you set her Barbies on fire.”

  “I was trying to play fireman. I didn’t know the shoeboxes she was using for Barbie’s house would be so flammable. Lesson learned. I’ve never heard my father yell as a loudly as he did when he came home. They had to replace the floor in the den and the hallway. It was all one big piece of ruined carpet.” Graham spread his arms wide. “Yeah, my parents
were not amused.”

  Wistfulness clouded his eyes, then cleared. She could imagine a young and mischievous Graham getting into all sorts of trouble. Hell, she can imagine the older, roguish man in front of her getting into trouble.

  “I missed out on siblings, but I’d visit relatives and hang out with my cousins in the summer. I was always well-behaved.”

  “Really? You have a streak of the troublemaker in you.”

  “My bad behavior didn’t start until adulthood. Even now, I’m still about ninety percent good girl.”

  “See? Sweet. You’ll have to tell me more about that ten percent.” He rolled his wrist over and checked the time. “It’ll have to be another time, though. I have an early start tomorrow.”

  Having to get up early was an excuse for a man sitting on the edge of your bed putting on his shoes. As the conversation flowed, Graham appeared to be more and more interested in her. She hadn’t mistaken his flirtation.

  Alexa dug through her bag for a breath mint and put off analyzing the minutia of the man’s behavior, then signaled the waitress to bring their bill.

  “Don’t worry about it. I got it.”

  “Oh, I’m not reaching for my wallet.” She popped a Tic-Tac and hooked her purse on her arm. “I just want to go to the restroom before I leave, and I don’t want to leave my purse.”

  Graham’s let out another laugh that drew the attention of the other patrons and handed the server his credit card. Alexa stepped around the corner to the bathroom.

  When she walked out, Graham was no longer at the table. She found him waiting for her in the foyer. He held the door as she walked out and followed closely behind.

  “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  Alexa nearly argued with him. Her car was parked only half a block away. Instead, she pointed the way, and they walked. Their arms brushed with every step on the narrow sidewalk until they reached her vehicle.

  “Here we are. You have safely delivered me to my destination, so you can go get your beauty sleep.”

  He turned and looked down the street. Something told her rest was not the reason for ending their date.