Night's Touch(7)

Sitting there, she ran her finger around the rim of the glass while she watched the couples on the dance floor. She really was out of her league here, she thought. As soon as she finished her drink, she’d go home. No more walking on the wild side for her.

“You get stood up?”

Cara looked at the man who had taken the seat to her left. He wore a black T-shirt, tight black jeans, and a pair of black leather boots, and he was far and away the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. Thick black hair brushed his broad shoulders. His eyes were dark brown under straight black brows; his nose was thin and sharp. His lips were full and sensuous. She had the strongest urge to run her fingertips over them to see if they were as warm and soft as they looked.

“Are you talking to me?” she asked coolly.

“I asked if you’d been stood up. You keep looking toward the door.”

“No, I haven’t, not that it’s any of your business.”

He shrugged. “Sorry. Just trying to make conversation.”

“I’m sorry, too,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“No problem.” He gestured at her empty glass. “Can I buy you another drink?”

“I guess so.”

“What are you drinking?” She hesitated a moment, reluctant, for some reason, to let him know she didn’t indulge. She was over twenty-one, after all. It wouldn’t hurt her to have one drink.

He was watching her, waiting for her answer.

“A pineapple daiquiri.”

Vince gave the bartender her order and asked for a glass of red wine for himself. It was not his usual drink of choice; ordinarily, he ordered a Bloody Mariah.

“I’m Vince.”

“Cara.”

“Nice to meet you, Cara.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t seem like the type to frequent this joint.”

“Why not?”

“Look around, honey. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you don’t fit the profile.”

She wanted to be offended, but how could she when he was right? She was the only one in the place who didn’t look like they had just stepped out of a cheap horror flick.

“I just sort of stumbled into the place,” she admitted. “Until last night, I never knew The Nocturne existed.”

He nodded. “You met someone here, didn’t you? And you came back hoping to see him again.”

“How did you know that?”

He shrugged. “I used to do the bar scene a lot.”

“Used to?” She smiled at the bartender when he placed her drink in front of her. He winked at her, then moved on down the bar. She wondered what the wink was for until she tasted her drink. He had thoughtfully left out the rum.

“I’ve been a little off my game the last year or so,” Vince said. “Been spending a lot of time by myself.”

“Were you sick?”

“In a way.”