never should have let that night happen. And yet, she didn’t regret it either. Good things came from that night.
The first few weeks of ignoring Nash had been easy. She’d whipped up some snappy lines and kept him at a safe distance. Life returned to what it had been before she’d had a lapse in judgment and let Nash win for a night.
Things were good. They were back to normal. Until she was into the fourth week after their night together. Everything changed then. And ensuring Nash got nowhere near her heart had proved harder. He seemed to invade cracks in her walls. More and more, she forgot all the reasons they shouldn’t be together.
Wide awake, he was there. In her dreams, he was there. He would not go away. Ever.
When the fifth week came along, she had a softness for him that was utterly dangerous for the power it gave him. Without a doubt, the moment he spotted that weakness, he’d exploit it to his advantage. Her heart had never been at a greater risk. For one thing, he had a terrible track record with women. For another, he was a man who didn’t fight for a damn thing but himself. A man who took and took and took, until all that was left was the crumpled-up women he left behind.
No, thanks.
And yet . . . and yet, she pined for him like a cat pined for a cardboard box.
Because of that, she had done what any normal woman would do. She avoided all eye contact, hoping to hell he would leave her alone. Cowardly, maybe. But when all else failed, what was a woman to do?
She finished off the cosmo, delivering the drink to the customer, then accepted payment and tossed the cash into the register. A slow heat sizzled down her spine, no doubt Nash stripping the clothes right off her body with his gaze. She huffed and grabbed the microphone from below the bar, ready to get her mind on something else. She ducked under the bar’s gate, then lost her breath completely when she hit a hard wall that was Nash’s chest.
Against her better judgment, she slowly looked up into his captivating blue eyes. And then came his panty-melting grin. “Miss me?” he asked, rich with arrogance.
Her lips parted to unleash a sassy retort. Dammit, it never came. “Can I help you with something?” she asked instead.
His low chuckle smacked a tsunami-sized wave of heat into her. The scent of beer and man and pine brushed across her face when he dropped his chin and arched an eyebrow. “I can think of a couple things you could help me with, Freckles.”
She planted her hand against his rock-hard chest and pushed. Damn him. He didn’t even budge. “There’s a thing called personal space. You should learn what that is.”
He wasn’t looking at her. Oh, hell no. He stared at her hand on his chest. She quickly drew herself away, fully aware of the electricity between them. She swallowed deep when he looked at her again. The heat flaring in his expression, matched with his low voice, made her so damn weak she nearly tugged him into her office.
At that, his grin turned devilish. “Not that long ago, you liked when I got this close.”
Her breath hitched, and goose bumps tickled over her flesh. Her mind traveled to places she’d sworn her thoughts would never go again. God, she vividly remembered those lips sliding across her skin. How the playfulness in his gaze morphed into intensity that had been the sexiest thing she had ever seen. Even now, she drew in his scent and he smelled so damn good. Like the fresh, open Colorado country air after being in the city. “That was two months ago,” she reminded him weakly, “and I really wish you would stop talking about that . . . mistake.”
“We weren’t a mistake,” he said smoothly.
“Okay, lapse in judgment, then.”
He chuckled so easily, like nothing ever got to him. “Not that either, Freckles.”
“Oh, yeah, then what was it?”
No matter how many people watched this conversation, he said dead serious, “The best night of both our lives.”
She parted her lips to say something brilliant. Something that would smack him back down to where he belonged. Again, her mind failed to react. Instead, emotion rose up, tightening her throat until she could barely breathe.
Nash’s head cocked, brows drawing together tight. “Now that’s a look I’ve never seen on your face.” She shut her eyes, trying