Cobb (Lighthouse Security Investigations #9) - Maryann Jordan Page 0,7
him. Aware of his friends and their wives nearby, he shot his gaze around but saw they only had eyes for each other. Regardless, he was glad when the song ended. She clung to his arm as they walked off the dance floor, her breasts still pressed tightly against him.
“You want to buy me a drink first or should we just head back to your place? Or my place… whichever is closer.”
He swallowed a sigh… this just wasn’t doing it for him. Especially when pale blue eyes haunted his thoughts. Hoping to let her down easy, he offered, “I can buy you a drink, but I’ll be heading home by myself.” He tried for a heartfelt smile, but it was as fake as the boobs pressed against his arm.
She cackled loudly and the nails-on-a-chalkboard sound grated on his nerves. “Oh, you’re so funny.” Peering up at him through half-lowered eyes, she said, “I know a man like you won’t go home alone. You look like just my type.”
“Your type?” Am I going to be stuck wondering what that word means? “Just what type is that?”
“You know… all big muscles… and I’ll bet you’re big everywhere.” Her hand snaked down his abs toward his crotch, and he snagged it quickly as she continued, “You look like the kind of man who knows he can satisfy a woman.”
Still holding her wrist, not willing to see what else she wanted to grab, he held her gaze. “You’re not afraid of going off with a man you don’t know?”
She barked out a laugh again. “I’ve seen you in here before. You don’t look like a serial killer to me. Anyway, the only woman who wouldn’t want to take you for a spin is one who doesn’t have what it takes. Hell, handsome, I’m ready for you.”
He stepped back, his mind no longer on the blonde in front of him but the beautiful Josie. Rochelle tried to move her hand toward him again, but he stopped her. “Not trying to be an ass, but seriously… we danced. That’s all. I’m not looking for more.”
As his refusal sunk in, her eyes narrowed. “Well, aren’t you just full of yourself?” she snorted as her hands landed on her hips. “Bet you’ve propositioned a shit-ton of women over the years after nothing more than a dance.” Shaking her head, she stomped off toward the bar, leaving him alone, her words slamming into him.
Propositioned a woman after nothing more than a dance. The air left his lungs in a rush. Exactly what I did with Josie. Shit, fuck, damn. He still had no idea what she’d meant by saying he wasn’t her type, but it didn’t matter. He’d done the same thing to her that Rochelle had done to him.
And the realization tasted bitter in his mouth.
3
Two Months Later
Josie stared at the sheaf of papers in front of her, reviewing the columns of numbers and tabulations, matching them with names, and comparing them to the last six months of reports. She hated this part of her job but was not comfortable turning it completely over to someone else.
Reaching into her top desk drawer, she pulled out a stretchy headband, slipping it over her neck before pushing the front past her forehead. That’s better. She appreciated her thick hair except when it fell into her face while she was trying to concentrate.
A flash of Jorge gently tucking a strand behind her ear when they had danced moved through her mind. She resisted the urge to drop her head down to bang on her desk. Anything to dislodge the image of the gorgeous man from her mind.
Jerking upright, she pinched her lips. No, just no. Sucking in a deep breath, she squirmed in her chair, trying to stretch the kinks out of her back before turning her attention back to the numbers swimming together on the page.
Her office was small and utilitarian but neat. Several plants graced a small table near the window, adding a splash of nature. The room was painted a calming lilac and colorful pictures adorned the walls. Anything to make the clients more comfortable.
The clinic she ran provided free or sliding-scale services for the elderly. There were several other clinics in the Las Cruces vicinity that provided services for all ages, but her area of specialty and interest was with the aging population. Considering this area of New Mexico was one of the poorest, she had no shortage of people in need.