Rory (Hope City #7) - Maryann Jordan Page 0,7

his face full of concern.

The sound of her name from his lips and whiskey-smooth voice curled around her, easing her breathing. Nodding, she blushed but continued to chuckle. “Death by pickup line. You got me with that last one. I can’t even think of another line.”

“Then how about I give you one for good measure,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “My buddies bet me that I wouldn’t be able to start a conversation with the hottest person in the bar. How about I buy you a drink with their money?”

Her mouth dropped open as her eyes widened. “I gotta hand it to you, that one’s a winner.”

He jerked back slightly, holding her gaze. “So, you’ll let me buy you a drink?”

Nodding slowly, she tapped her perfectly manicured fingernail against her now empty glass and winked. “I’ve only had one, but I can handle another.”

“How about before that drink, I entice you to a dance?”

The idea of moving around to music while close to him was exactly what she’d love to do. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she grinned up at him. “That you can definitely entice me with.”

“Good to know.”

She’d been so engrossed in her flirting with Rory that she hadn’t realized Harper and Bill were staring at her. Harper was smiling, but Bill had a speculative expression. Before she had a chance to give more thought to her friends’ reactions, Harper slid from her stool and said, “I’m going to head home. I’ve got an early day tomorrow, and Bill said he’d drop me off.” Leaning closer, she offered a hug and whispered, “Are you going to be okay?”

Sandy squeezed her best friend and nodded. “Don’t worry about me. I like him, but you know I’ll go home alone.”

Harper leaned back, her eyes searching, and nodded also. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

Turning back to Rory, she glanced at his outstretched hand and smiled. As his hand wrapped around her fingers, he assisted her from the barstool. He slapped some money onto the bar, and she grinned when he maintained the hold on her hand as they greeted others while weaving through the crowd.

Once they made their way to the small area for dancing near the back, she lifted her hands into the air, her Lemon Drop giving her just enough of a buzz to enjoy the beat of the music while focusing her attention on Rory. She loved to dance and had no doubt he noticed her moves as his appreciative gaze moved from the top of her head down to her stiletto heels and back, settling on her eyes. She mentally added bonus points to him for his gaze not lingering on her breasts.

Her clothing was carefully chosen to compliment her features but was never slutty—and never showed too much skin. “A lady should always know the difference between beauty and desperation.” She shook her head to dislodge her grandmother’s words, but as the main female in her life as a child, the southern matriarch’s teachings were firmly implanted.

She glanced down at her clothes. Coming from work, her light grey pencil skirt ended just above her knee, and the pink silk blouse exposed no cleavage. Generally, that didn’t keep a man’s eyes on her face, but with Rory, she felt as though he was just looking at her.

While these thoughts were swirling in her head, the music changed to a much slower song. Thrilled that he didn’t just grab her but instead held his arms out and tilted his head to the side in an open invitation, she stepped closer and lifted her hands to his shoulders. His hands slid around her waist, and she reveled in his embrace. As the song continued, they swayed back and forth in each other’s arms, her cheek resting against his chest. After a moment, she felt the slight pressure of his cheek now resting on the top of her head.

Wrapped in his arms, she was barely aware when the song ended. Leaning her head back, she inwardly purred with warmth moving through her at being close to his body. At least, she hoped the purr was inward.

“You look flushed,” he said, bending his face closer, his eyes peering deeply into hers. “Are you all right? Do you need some air?”

Her usual flirty quip died on her lips. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Air would be good.”

With his arm around her shoulder, he guided her toward the front, his free hand outstretched to help part the crowd.

“I usually just dart between